I once wrote a novel. I was fourteen, and though it wasn't particularly good, it was an empowering experience for me as a writer and as a reader. I not only got to live through a character, but I had the power to control her, and my, fate. Fast forward a few years and I'm giving oral presentations on female heroes (both super and non-super), and tying the fictional world into academia. The shy fourteen-year-old who wrote a book has grown up, but hasn't lost her sense of adventure, love of storytelling, and passion for empowering women like her.

Some of my favorite nerdy moments were when my brother taught me how to play the Tomb Raider games, or when my best friend in high school let me borrow her copies of Ms. Marvel, Rat Queens, and Saga, or even when I typed in the urls for webcomics like Spinnerette and Namesake into my browser.

What the world of superheroes teaches us is that ordinary people can become extraordinary when they stumble upon the right circumstances. That world teaches us that the only thing greater than our prowess is the strength of our character. We look up to these fictional characters as children, and as we get older and harsher in the real world, we don't easily forget the lessons they taught us, and we don't easily dull the fire that these characters, these superheroes, lit within us.

It is so important to have characters, to have these fictional teachers, mentors, friends, and idols, with qualities that connect with us, even in small ways. When we imagine a hero in an intense battle scene, bruised and scraped, but fighting for the fate of our comrades, why shouldn't that hero have hair like us? When that character back-talks a supervillain, why shouldn't they have the same sense of humor like us? When we pick up the controller to play the latest game, why shouldn't we be able to play as the hero with the same color of skin as us? When we look up at a movie poster, and see the hero's face shining with righteous glory, why shouldn't that character look like us? Why shouldn't we see superheroes who look like us, act like us, use our traditions and come from our places of birth?

When we see young girls appearing at Comic Con dressed as Rey, or going to see the new Ghostbusters movie, or reading about how Joss Whedon is on board for directing a Black Widow movie, we see ourselves. We see the wide-eyed, innocent versions of ourselves that are so full of hope and wonder, just looking for someone to look up to.

So when I see that Wonder Woman, one of the Big Three DC superheroes, is getting a stand-alone movie, I'm not just excited for myself. I'm excited for all the girls who need a hero to idolize, like the girl I used to be.