Heroine Addicts By: Stacey Lynn Newman As a North American woman, I often think about how fortunate I am. I am lucky to have been born in the 1970's. I stand on the shoulders of women who went before me. I can vote, I can attend just about any university or college I choose to attend, I can work almost anywhere I wish to work and I can be a stay-at-home mother if it suits me. I have many choices. As a woman I know that am strong and capable, but, am I free? The heroines that I have become fascinated with inspire me to look inward to define my freedom. They expose my interest in the dark hearts and minds of my contemporaries. The deeply layered stories of women such as Frida Kahlo, Virginia Woolf, Sylvia Plath, and Veronica Guerin have found their way on to the silver screen. Perhaps their stories are apropos because of the recent and shamefully belated media attention on the plights of oppressed, impoverished women around the globe. We are rising up together in celebration, not for power, but for the freedom to simply be who we are, inside. Women can finally say without guilt or fear that we are not in pursuit of personal perfection, we are not all born to be mothers, and our newest heroines, who aren't really new at all, empower us to define ourselves outside of expectation. Heroines such as Kahlo, Woolf, Plath and Guerin nosh our compassion and empathy, and our cravings for self-awareness and acknowledgment of this self-awareness. They embody the strength a woman can possess, her fierce will, her ability to withstand emotional and physical pain, and power to overcome incredible adversity. These are four independent, rebellious, intellectual, resolute women, all of whom experienced almost intolerable anguish. Instead of crying into a handkerchief while staring despondently into space for their white knights to arrive, their anguish and determination is represented on film as explosive fuel for their causes and their talents. I have found that I am far from being alone in my fascination with this new breed of chick flick, and the term is not meant to trivialize. These biographical snapshots, as presented on film, celebrate unhappiness, life and its imperfect and difficult realities. This says as much about today's audience as it does about the heroines we have chosen to celebrate. In a world with a history marred by violence and instability, women are now presented with a new consideration as well, that some of the most difficult obstacles we face in our lives are not externally, but internally generated. We are removing our one-dimensional maternal, feminine costumes to expose the intricacy of a woman's identity. As mothers and wives we can and sometimes do feel unfulfilled and empty, as individuals we feel physically flawed more often than we feel physically beautiful, and we rarely feel wholly beautiful. As human beings we have been pigeon-holed by societal expectations and saying so is tantamount to being a bad mother, a bad wife, or a bad catch-at least it used to be. My mother's generation wouldn't have dared to celebrate these female heroic figures in the formation of their own identities. Sylvia Plath and Virginia Woolf were plagued by mental illness, both committed suicide at a young age. Both are among the most brilliant literary minds of all time. Frida Kahlo's unique talents as a painter were remarkably overshadowed by her unshakable dedication to her political and personal ideals. Frida Kahlo was seriously injured in a bus accident when she was in her teens, she underwent over thirty surgeries and lived most of her life in great pain. She was volatile and sensitive, she embodied sensuality and bravery. Veronica Guerin has been accused of prioritizing her role as journalist over her role as mother when she launched her campaign against drug lords in her native Dublin. I believe her role as journalist was defined by her maternity, and that she was fighting for the greater good of making her world a better home for her children to live in. These were complex women, their stories sad, yet, profoundly rousing. They lived, they loved, they decided and they made a difference. They were passionate, and they were far from lost, their journeys were never meant to end in happiness. Their legacies leave us, women of the twenty-first century, with a mandate to live, love, choose, express, learn, inspire and teach.