In June 1998, when my small, blonde, curly-haired self was just three years old, one of the best Disney animated features, Mulan, was released into theaters. My dad tells me that I watched the film at least once a week when he bought it for me on VHS, and I honestly couldn’t tell you if he’s exaggerating or not. I watched my same exact Mulan VHS with a good friend this fall break and I was reminded of just how much it means to me.

When Mulan arrives to get ready for her matchmaker’s appointment, she’s bombarded by her mother about how she must have a good hairdo and a tiny waist, as well as be pale, calm and obedient. In order to bring honor to her family and the emperor of China, she must be married and have children. These are standards that all girls hear from the time they are children.

Mulan is so distressed that she blows it with the matchmaker and becomes afraid that her family won’t find her honorable. I often feel the same way, upset that I’m not meeting the expectations of my parents. When her father is called up to fight the Huns in the imperial army, Mulan steals his armor, disguises herself as a man, sneaks out at night and goes in his place. She’s determined to show her family that she can bring them honor in more than one way.

Captain Shang, the male lead, admonishes his recruits and tells them that the men must be swift as a coursing river, have the force of a great typhoon, strength of a raging fire and be mysterious as the dark side of the moon. These are standards that all boys hear from the time they are children. Mulan is the only recruit that completes the seemingly impossible task of climbing the wooden pole with the weights around her wrists, persevering and defying the norm.

When the company marches off to war, they imagine a woman they think is worth fighting for: pale and pretty, can cook well, will adore his experience in the army and think he’s perfect in every way. Mulan tries to convince them otherwise and suggests a girl who’s got a brain who always speaks her mind, but she’s quickly dismissed.

When Mulan is figured out to be a woman after single-handedly killing most of the Hun army by starting an avalanche, Shang gives her mercy since she saved his life. Through her intuition, cunning and skills, she ends up killing Shan Yu once and for all and saves all of China. The emperor honors her for this and bows before her, a gesture typically given only to the emperor himself.

Watching this movie this past weekend gave me a great reminder as to why I keep a small plastic Mulan figurine on my desk in the Student Publications office. Mulan proves that being strong and able isn’t a trait exclusive to men. In fact, the gender roles and standards that society forces on us are arbitrary and inaccurate. A woman’s worth isn’t found in her ability to be married off and have kids, nor is a man’s worth found in his ability to catch fish with his bare hands or balance a pail of water on his head while rocks are being thrown at him. She inspires me to be myself even if people aren’t interested in me or they’re just intimidated. She motivates me to go above and beyond expectations.

I’ll leave you with some wise words from the emperor: “The flower that blooms in adversity is the rarest and most beautiful of all.”