The Little Mermaid, Leadership, and Longing
In which I meander about the movie and emotional life experiences
When The Little Mermaid original animated film came out in 1989, I was 8 years old, right between the ages of my two youngest daughters now. My dad was an Army chaplain stationed at the National Training Center in Ft. Irwin, California.
It was in the Mojave Desert, in the middle of nowhere. Flash flood days were my favorite days because the endless brown from horizon to horizon would turn green for a few days afterward.
Photo by Jarek Tuszyński via Wikimedia Commons
If we wanted to watch a new release movie, we had to drive over an hour away to a town big enough for a mall. On special Sunday afternoons, we would venture to Victorville, get food court Chinese for lunch, and settle into the air conditioned theater to enjoy a film.
That’s where I first saw red-headed Ariel and was utterly enchanted. I didn’t understand at the time why I was so drawn to the headstrong girl, but now I know it’s because I am an Enneagram 8 also hellbent on challenging the status quo.
I got the soundtrack on cassette tape and listened to it on loop, carrying around my portable plastic Fisher Price tape player. I somehow convinced the neighborhood gang of kids to stage a production of the story. This was before the movie was out on video, so our script was based on a children’s book adaptation, the soundtrack, and our memories of having seen it once in the theater.
I directed and starred in the show, obviously.
Now I look back and marvel at my ability to corral ten kids under the age of nine. It was the first time I realized my leadership skills—I could run after a vision and people would flow in behind me to pursue the goal together.
My dad was younger in this photo than I am now. Would you follow that girl onto the backyard stage?
Our absolute banger of a finale was the death of Ursula, in which the sea witch ascended a sand pile and the rest of the cast scampered behind it and threw sand in the air to create a cloud that allowed her to disappear.
We were combing sand out of our scalps for a week, but we were so proud of our innovative special effects. They rivaled Industrial Light and Magic, honestly.
When I think about our ragtag cast, the childhood joy becomes bittersweet, because I know what became of us. At least four of those kids turned into soldiers, and only three survived. The collective trauma among us could, well…it could fill an ocean.
The Little Mermaid is a coming of age story, and though I was too young to begin individuating when I saw it, the movie planted important seeds of ideas to prepare me to become my own person later. Ariel is longing for a life different from her own. She is ready to explore outside the boundaries of her life, even if that means breaking the rules. She is curious, creative, courageous, confident…many of the traits of a healthy Self according to the Internal Family Systems modality.
She has extremely reactive parts of her that take foolish action to achieve her goals, but those parts are trying to help her even if their methods are not the healthiest. Eventually she becomes her fully integrated and best Self, and with the support of her community, starts adult life on her own terms.
I wasn’t able to psychoanalyze her character in 1989, but I resonated strongly with her longing. While I may have picked up some unhealthy messages about the way the world devalues a woman’s voice, I also gathered important lessons about breaking taboos in pursuit of your dreams.
Today is my birthday, and this past weekend I had a Little Mermaid themed party. When the movie release date was announced months ago, I knew that was my birthday plan sorted. I hosted a sushi dinner (too on the nose?), DisneyBounded in a sparkly outfit and the worst temporary hair dye I’ve ever used, and took everyone to see the movie opening weekend.
I decorated my dining room with balloons, streamers, an Under the Sea banner, Little Mermaid tablecloth and plates and napkins, put on temporary mermaid tattoos, and ordered a mermaid cake from Mariano’s. It was the party of my inner nine-year-old’s dreams, and it was a delightful and healing experience to connect with my playfulness.
I don’t want to spoil the new live action version, so I won’t give away the plot changes. Just know that they removed a lot of the misogyny from the original and wrote Ariel with much more agency. Go see it.
Okay, wait, I am going to spoil one thing. At the end, Ariel says to another character, “Thank you for hearing me.” And they reply, “You shouldn’t have had to lose your voice to be heard.” I was sitting in a row full of my girlfriends, all of whom have been harmed and silenced by the institutional church, and the collective murmuring from them at that line resonated with the tears in my eyes. We are all longing to speak and be heard.
Have you seen the new movie yet? What did you think?
Well written. So happy you celebrated you well!