Confessions of a Disney Adult

I texted my friend: “Laura, I think I’ve been in the closet for a long time and I’m finally learning the truth about myself.”

Then: “If I could have just stayed away, or if it had been just the one time, I could have lived my life without ever confronting this side of me. The part I haven’t wanted to acknowledge.”

“The funny thing is, everyone knew about this but ME.”

She responded, “Lisa, what? What are you talking about?”

I sent her these photos:

And followed it with, “I think I’m a Disney adult!”

She did not think that was very funny. At least, not at first. After I apologized profusely for scaring the crap out of her, she said, “Okay, I mean, I know you love Belle. But a Disney adult???”

Yes, it’s true. Ever since Beauty and the Beast came out in 1991, when I was 11, my favorite Disney princess has been Belle. Like every other bookish girl on the planet, I related to her bibliophilic tendencies; the way she couldn’t care less about the hot, dumb guy; and especially when she sings solo on the mountaintop: “I want adventure in the great, wide, somewhere. I want it more than I can tell. . . . I want so much more than they’ve got planned.” To me, she was an icon.

In (what I thought of as) my arty college years, I went to view the 1946 French cinema classic La Belle et La Bête at a historic theatre by myself. (PSA: Bring back theaters that play independent and foreign films!) But I never forgot the Disney version. I could recite the opening number where everyone proclaims “Bonjour!” in its entirety, and did often, much to my friends’ chagrin. Now it’s more to my daughters’ mortification, mainly when I wear my Belle “Live Your Story” T-shirt out of the house.

I’ve written before that my parents never took me to Disney World. Or Disneyland, for that matter. But like most American kids, I grew up watching the movies and owning the stuffed animals and my kids have, too. I have a soft spot for Dumbo and Bambi especially. Dumbo crawled onto his poor, imprisoned mother’s curled trunk and got rocked while she sang “Baby of Mine,” and I’d weep and weep. I am sure I could write an essay about how Disney exercised my empathy skills at a young age.

My daughters, however, don’t like to watch the sad ones. They were very young during the age of Frozen, of female empowerment and independence, which of course I love to see. We have Disney+ and watch anything and everything that comes out. Most of it’s not bad. We have Disney ornaments on our tree. It’s a part of our world (picture Ariel here).

After the pandemic and lockdown of 2020-2021, a couple things happened: our friend moved to California, and my husband got a job based out of Orange County, CA. When spring break 2022 rolled around, we booked a trip for the first time in years, and, since we were going to be out west, decided that would be an opportunity to take the kids to Disneyland.

I had always sworn we’d never do a Disney World trip because it’s so expensive and there are so many places in the world to see! But Disneyland, along with meeting up with friends and some beach days, felt very manageable. This would be a “one and done”—we could cross the Disney experience off our list and go on with our lives. Ha!

It’s no surprise the kids loved Disneyland. But I was surprised by how much I enjoyed it. It’s so happy there! Like, possibly the happiest place on Earth? Everywhere I turned, I saw familiar characters. I rode a roller coaster, which I had never done before. It was so fun! After all that time staying home, then to go somewhere literally and figuratively sunny like that? I didn’t realize it then, but I was a convert.

This year, as I recounted in a previous blog post, we didn’t do a spring break trip. We made travel plans for another time this year. But then my husband found out he was selected to speak at a conference in Orlando, Florida. Orlando—home to Disney World! Since he would already be flying there, booking a nice hotel room, and having some of his meals and transportation covered, we figured now was the best chance we’d have to bring the kids to the promised land of Mickey Mouse. We had to take them out of school for a few days, but it was worth it.

Leading up to the trip, you know I followed a bunch of Disney Instagram accounts, bought a guide book, and streamed YouTube videos aplenty in order to plan accordingly. I started to develop an itch. I couldn’t wait to go! Everywhere I looked, I saw Disney. Would I become one of those grown ups who wants visit every Disney park in the world for myself? One of those adults who voluntarily whips out my phone to show strangers photos of me with Daisy Duck? I felt like I was dangling right at the edge of the cliff, like baby Simba, and I was in real danger of falling into the Walt abyss.

That’s when I texted my friend about my concerns. I told her, Whatever is happening to me, I draw the line at wearing Mickey ears.

For the most part, I stayed true to myself. I didn’t wear the ears, but I did insist our family wear our matching Mickey shirts. I skipped around the first day and pretty much cried at the fireworks and water show of Fantasmic! in the Hollywood Studios park.

Everything about Epcot was my favorite thing ever. All those beautiful countries, with their food! Plus, we were there for the Flower & Garden festival—flower and garden, people!

But I really fangirled out at Enchanted Tales with Belle in Magic Kingdom. My youngest daughter got to play Mrs. Potts, which was adorable, but when they asked if anyone else in the audience wanted to come meet Belle, my husband volunteered me like how Belle volunteered to take her father’s place in the Beast’s castle. I’m so glad he did! Afterwards, one of the staff members gave us a private little tour and showed me some of the special books in the library, and Belle gave me a bookmark which I will keep forever.

At least, until the next time we go . . . Just kidding! (I think?)