When I began watching episodes of this sugary sweet, optimistic Netflix original, I didn't know what to think. The characters were all over the top, whether it was Mrs. Voorhees, Kimmy's trophy-wife boss with a surprising origin, Titus Andromedon, Kimmy's gay, black roommate and a failed actor, or even the weird Japanese robot, Yuko, who managed to make her way into the series halfway through the first season. At first, I was turned off by the show's goofy humor. Kimmy seemed to effervescent, Titus too willing to invite her into his apartment. I'd laugh at the show's jokes, then wonder if they really hit their mark or was it all just surprise laughter. Most of the characters were extreme caricatures, but even still I did not sit right with the show, and after making it only a quarter of the way through the first season, my boyfriend and I turned away from it. Then, last night, with nothing to watch while crocheting pussy power hats for my two favorite professors, I felt like having an innocent laugh and suggested that we try the show again. This time, we couldn't get enough of it.

Kimmy is a modern Candide taking the terrible in stride and always believing in her ability to succeed, yet, unlike Voltaire's hero, she isn't made a fool. Instead, this woman who has spent the last fifteen years of her life in an underground bunker, believing the world had ended and subject to the (sexual) whims of the Reverend Richard Wayne Gary Wayne, is powerful and persevering. She never wants to be a victim, never wants to be recognized as a Mole Woman, and her desire to move past her worst days is a lesson we all need to learn.

While some might say that Kimmy's over-the-top pep and naivete handles the topic of sexual assault a little too lightly, I believe that Kimmy Schmidt is just the sort of character to address the weight of such a topic. Victims of rape and sexual assault react to their experiences differently, and Kimmy, along with having experienced traumatic sexual assault was also trapped in a bunker for fifteen years. The jokes about her naivete are sincere because she really doesn't know anything about the world, but this is the world she lives in, and just as she survived the bunker, Kimmy knows that she can survive in New York. Kimmy, who has been through the worst, is a strong character because she doesn't let her past define her. She knows the danger of letting yourself turn into a victim, you lose the power to make yourself anything else, and so through her optimism, through her campy humor and sparkly shoes, she works to be the Kimmy she wants to be, not the rape victim, not the Mole Woman.

She self-defines; she struggles; she gets a job; she kisses a boy for the first time (twice), and it's all wonderful and empowering. The thing about feminism, that I feel a lot of people forget when trying to address the worst realities of sexism, is that it is a movement of choice. It's about allowing people to be free to be themselves, whoever they are. Kimmy doesn't have to be a victim because she's not. She's been victimized, and it's hurt her, but she's knows that there is so much more to her than that. Overall, I'd say this show is a gleaming success of feminist television, from title reel to end credits.