I didn't think the dumpster fire that is 2016 could get any worse. It already took David Bowie, Prince, and Alan Rickman. The celebrity death toll marched onward as those who had portrayed some of my favorite characters passed, one right after another. We lost Ron Glass, who played Shepherd Book in Firefly; Florence Henderson, who will always be Carol Brady; and Alan Thicke, the Growing Pains dad my generation wished was part of our own families. Now Carrie Fisher, an icon for fans from all walks of life the world over. My thoughts and prayers are with her and her family, but I have also spent time reflecting on Fisher and her most famous role, Princess Leia in the original Star Wars trilogy.

Unlike most other college students, I am actually older than Star Wars. I grew up in a dark time when princesses needed to be rescued and the highest career path Barbie could aspire to was to be a flight attendant. My brother had dozens of action figures who could ride this motorcycle or pilot that aircraft. I had a box of ponies whose hair I could brush.

But then there was Princess Leia. Sure, she was rescued at the beginning of A New Hope, but then she promptly grabbed a blaster and held her own rather than hiding behind the men like a simpering coward. In Return of the Jedi, she returned the favor and led a team to rescue Han Solo from Jabba's Palace. While Solo recovered from the blindness caused by being frozen in carbonite, he relied on her. He was physically vulnerable and she protected him (until they got caught, anyways). This was a completely novel concept to 7-year-old me in the early 80s. We didn't have fierce, independent princesses yet. There was no Mulan, Merida, or Elsa. My princess references consisted of two Disney films where the princesses were rescued by strangers kissing them while they slept (which, FYI, is not really a great message to send to children). Leia wouldn't have tolerated that for a second; she'd have come up swinging.

Princess Leia was the first, and for a while, the only good female role model I had. Sure, she was a princess, but she was also a senator and a leader in the rebel alliance. Thanks to the newest installment, she's also a general. When I was a child, Fisher's Leia showed me that being strong and being a princess were not mutually exclusive.

My thoughts continue to be with Fisher's family during this difficult time. May the force be with her and with her doctors.