Now that I’m 23, it’s a different story

With Disney+’s launch earlier this month and the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday, there’s never been a better time to binge old favorites. This week, we’re looking back at Disney hits and catching up on films we missed the first time. Join us for a walk down memory lane. 

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As an elementary schooler in the early 2000s and an only child devoid of a lot of teenage girl role models, I harbored a small obsession for romcom heroines who could stand in as my imaginary older sisters. Viola Johnson (Amanda Bynes) in She’s the Man taught me how to be shameless; Mia Thermopolis (Anne Hathaway) from The Princess Diaries showed me that it’s what’s on the inside that counts, and in The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants; the relationship among Carmen (America Ferrera), Tibby (Amber Tamblyn), Bridget (Blake Lively), and Lena (Alexis Bledel) exemplified the value of female friendship. 

But one sister-adjacent idol trumped the rest of my onscreen role models: Lindsay Lohan’s “Lola” in Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen (2004). Funnily enough, the fearlessness of my childhood idol, a character who, at 15, is now eight years my junior, still strikes a chord with me.

Forced to move from New York City to Dellwood, New Jersey, Lola deeply resents her (single) mother for relocating their family, which includes her twin little sisters, to suburbia, and incessantly makes her feelings known, no matter the cost.

Although she’s the new girl at Dellwood High, Lola ends up starring in the school’s rock opera musical and facing off against the school’s queen bee, Carla Santini (Megan Fox). Lola has a bad habit of lying to “make [herself] seem more interesting.” She even tells her new best friend, Ella (Alison Pill), that her father tragically died in a motorcycle accident. (He didn’t die in a motorcycle accident, and, in fact, is quite alive.)

Born and raised in Dellwood, Ella does “everything you’re supposed to do, when you’re supposed to do it,” and never questions anything. At least, until she meets Lola. 

The girls bond over their mutual love of the rock band Sidarthur. Lola drags Ella into her antics, which include stealing from the school’s costume shop and sneaking into concerts without tickets. Although she’s along for the ride, Ella is never fully converted into a rule-breaker like Lola. Overwhelmed by the guilt and anxiety brought on by the potential consequences of her and Lola’s shenanigans, Ella is wont to cry, dry-heave, and panic. 

In the end, the girls prove to be fantastic influences on each other. Ella teaches Lola that she doesn’t need to “prove anything” to others by lying, and Ella thanks Lola for encouraging her to be “brave enough to be different.” 

As a new girl at my own high school, Lola’s story felt even more personal to me.

By the time I was in high school, I had left many of my romcom heroines in the past. Lola was the exception. When I was 14, I moved to a new town and became the new girl at my high school. So, her story felt even more personal to me. I wanted desperately to emulate her fearless transition into a new environment, and ended up revering Lola because she had everything that felt off-limits to me. 

Lola dresses like a bohemian celebrity and revels in the fact that she sticks out like a sore thumb. Such confidence catches the eye of the too-cute boy next door, Sam (Eli Marienthal). I, on the other hand, was overwhelmed by the prospect of making new friends and fitting in — and deeply uncomfortable in my own skin. In an effort to avoid directing any extra attention to myself or my body, I wore baggy sweatshirts rather than express myself through a personal style. 

Before the film’s credits roll, having starred in her school’s musical and met her celebrity crush, Lola slow dances with Sam and muses that “now that [her] career is launched, maybe [she] could have a boyfriend.” (Lola is characteristically hyperbolic in saying that her high school stardom had launched her Broadway career.) Regardless, she’s snagged an adorable boy next door. I, on the other hand, was trapped in a state of unrequited crush. First kisses were social currency, and I was hopelessly broke. 

That said, I disapproved of Lola’s habitual lying, and I identified it as a manifestation of her underlying insecurities. But despite whatever motivated her dishonesty, Lola still took all of it — the triumphs and humiliations — in stride, and I admired that.

A few weeks ago, I rewatched Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen for the first time since I was 16. Years after my dreadful first days of high school, my reverence for Lola has naturally waned. As a matter of fact, to my slight dismay, I now see a lot of myself in Ella.

Blinded by my admiration for Lola, I used to deeply pity Ella. I was confused as to what she was so afraid of. Lola was reckless, but she freed herself from any social inhibitions. Ella was overly composed and trapped in a cage of conformity that she’d grown dependent upon. Why be an “Ella” when you can be a “Lola?” In fact, why be like Ella at all?, I thought.

Why be an “Ella” when you can be a “Lola?” In fact, why be like Ella at all? 

But now, only five months out of college and faced with the realization of the overwhelming, lifelong obligation of being fully responsible for myself, I’ve become a total rule-follower. My newfound identification with Ella isn’t surprising. 

I’m organized, almost to a comical extent, and I get enough sleep on a regular basis. I value deadlines as sacred and function by setting many for myself. And for the most part, I’m proud of these responsible habits. But my tendency to lean on Type A behaviors certainly has its drawbacks. Like many 23-year-olds, I struggle with self-doubt. I spend a lot of my time worrying that I’m not working hard enough, that there’s something that I’m forgetting, that I’m somehow falling short — even though there isn’t a guidebook to “real life.” 

Despite my affinity for Lola and Ella, I realize that they are, ultimately, archetypes, fictional characters stuck in time. My identity is real, dynamic, and ever-evolving. I’ve leveled up from being that hopeless high schooler: I now rock statement pieces that would put Lola’s wardrobe to shame, and I’m proud to announce that I’ve had my first kiss. 

And, just like Ella, I’m an expert planner and I abhor lying to my parents. Those are good things. But I, too, would still benefit from taking a page out of Lola’s book. (Not one about compulsive lying.) To this day, Lola has me beat on radical self-assuredness and liberation from self-doubt. So I’ll keep emulating her spirit until it feels real to me, until I’ve made it my own.

Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen is now available to stream on Disney+.