It's "General Leia" to you.

The other day, my daughter and I were talking about the newest Star Wars movie, which I liked but can’t remember the name of. Sorry. Huge fan though, really.

Anyway, I mentioned Princess Leia.

Immediately, my 10-year-old corrected me with, “you mean General Leia.” (In the same tone I used with my own mom, circa 1986, when she asked me if I’d heard “Whitney Springsteen’s” new album.)

Okay, yes. I stood corrected. GENERAL Leia.

And then the awesomeness of that hit me like a truckload of Tina Fey/Amy Poehler/Jennifer Lawrence/Amy Schumer quotes.

Because it was nothing special to her. Nothing out of the ordinary. It was just a fact, like bruschetta is delicious, flip-flops are a poor choice around horses, and if she loses me in the grocery store, check the wine aisle first.

Lucky for me, she has always been a kind and generous boss.

Lucky for me, she has always been a kind and generous boss.

“Girl Power” isn’t a thing to her. She hasn’t grown up in the “anything boys can do, girls can do better” era, where it was even a question. In her 10-year-old world, #glrlboss is no different from #boyboss.

Of course women will be strong and powerful and driven and have the lead in the movie and fly the spaceship and speak their minds and bring home the bacon. Of course they will. And then hand that bacon right over to their spouse to cook cause they tend to burn the shit out of everything. (Hypothetically.)

Of course a woman can be a scientist or astronaut or stand-up comic or CEO or the effing President of the United States, while also being a wife and mother (or not, totally her choice) with a highly successful female empowerment/lifestyle blog on the side. No big.

My daughter doesn’t yet know all the battles that have been fought, or are currently being fought, or still lie ahead, to get to this place. 

She doesn’t know that just 30ish years ago, Carrie Fisher was mostly famous for cinnamon bun hair and a gold metal bikini that launched a trillion teenage wet dreams.

She doesn’t know that pay inequality is still a thing. That despite my relative success and happiness, I still struggle (as do most of my female friends) with being all the things I want to be and feel I should be, every day.

And she doesn’t know how inspiring and powerful it is for me to realize she is growing up in a new world, and I am part of making that world even better for her as a woman.

She just knows that Leia is a General.

That Rey is a badass with cool hair.

And that she can be or do anything thing she sets her mind to.

Because...of course she can.