Why I didn't enjoy Brave
This is a movie I'd been looking forward to for months. Sadly it may be months or longer before I try to watch it again. I was not expecting an animated fairy tale to rip open a childhood emotional wound I didn't even know had any hurt left in it.
It goes like this:
The witch = Jehovah's Witnesses
The spell = their oh so very false religion and non-existent god
My mother is the bear. Only there was no sunrise awakening. She changed and never came back.
I cried in the theatre and for two days afterwards. I still can't talk about it without crying. I am the walking wounded over something that happened 40 years ago, that I have no power to change. This sucks! I do not want to be someone who becomes defined by their past damage.
There is a silver lining, of sorts. I grew up very angry inside. Understandably, I think. That whole cult thing. However, trading grief for anger is not actually healing at all. Having that emotional wound ripped open again seems to have drained a lot of that core anger away. I am not enjoying the process of re-experiencing grief but if I come out of this weepier but less reactive and walled off, I'll take it.