I'm a Leah
No, I'm not having some identity crisis. It's just a thought that has occurred to me after my recent trip to the movies.
I went to see the new film "Love, Simon" yesterday, and I was so glad to go and support such a good production. It's a sweet story of the main character's (Simon) journey in honesty to self - hope in love - and strength of the relationships that matter. And while Simon does find himself and love in a somewhat typical cinematic fashion, I couldn't help but gravitate to the character of Leah so strongly. So who was Leah?
Without giving the entire movie away, Leah is one of Simon's best friends (in a group of 4) who journeys with him through his ferris wheel highs and lows in life but also comes to realize a lot about her own journey as well. At the end of the movie, I saw myself in Leah so much for so many reasons. Leah was the proverbial best friend who was spunky, fun, cared deeply for her friends, agonized about what to do with the feelings in her heart, wrestled with her self-worth, loved someone who clearly could not love her back, wondered if she could ever compete with the other girls, hoped for a lot even though she had great fears, carried her heart on her sleeve, and eventually assumed the role of the 5th wheel in her circle. She got her heart broken in a pretty epic way which left her devastated and pulling away from her friend. While she eventually was able to make up with her friend and save their relationship...I still couldn't help but feel sad about how she took a literal backseat in her friend group as the quintessential 5th wheel. Now I may very well be psychoanalyzing this film and this character way much deeper than necessary, but that was the part that stood out the most to me as the credits began to play. Because I saw so much of myself in Leah, I couldn't help but wonder who loved her.
I'm happy that Simon found love and can now authentically be himself, but what happens to Leah as the story ends? Her seemingly happy group of friends changed from 4 to 5 people who drink way too much iced coffee and love to spend time with each other. Yet naturally they all paired off leaving Leah to be the odd woman out smiling through it all...a situation I am more than all too well acquainted with. Everything about the character of Leah were things I could wholeheartedly relate to, and that struck a cord in my heart. I find it interesting when that happens; when fictional characters hold up a hypothetical mirror to our faces to help us come to realizations or analyze things in our lives we maybe had never thought of before. I left the theater with many questions and hypothesized scenarios as to what happens to the character of Leah from the point where the movie wrapped. I think I became invested in doing so as a way to help shed some light on what I'm doing with my life and how to change the many similarities I saw in both of us. Does she end up happy? Does she find love? Do her friends protect and help her not to feel like she is the single one? I ask these questions about a fictional character's life knowing damn well I'm thinking of myself.
Long story short: "Love, Simon" was indeed a great movie, and most people can see it without having to be plagued with an existential evaluation of their lives. An overthinking psych major who has been going through so much in her life, will however de-compartmentalize a movie like this to seek answers and meanings that may not be there. Who knows? It's also one in the morning and I've been overthinking this movie for hours. I will say that Leah did have one profound line in the movie that while it was a a bit of a sad attempt of her trying to be honest about her feelings, I have embraced its raw honesty as a stamp of courage for my life because of how powerful I found it to be. I think it takes a deep amount of courage and bravery to care for someone and want nothing but the best for them even through the personal heartbreak that it may bring you.
Leah Burke: "Sometimes I think I’m destined to care so much about one person it nearly kills me."
Simon Spier: "Me too."