How Zelda from Breath of the Wild helped me come to terms with my bisexuality

When it comes to The Legend of Zelda franchise, the Princess of Hyrule has a specific role in the life that she has to play. Not only does she embody the Goddess of Wisdom, but she is also royalty, so she is expected to be intelligent, balanced and traditionally feminine. She rarely wants anything different for herself. But in The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, Zelda struggles with the role she was born into. Unable to unleash her inner sealing power and meet her father’s high expectations, the world seems to be against her at every turn. Despite these pressures, she finds refuge in her chosen family and her inner strength. That’s why I consider her to be a bisexual woman. She helped me see my own worth and my own worth.

In old games, Zelda looked more like your stereotypical princess. Usually, you would find her dressed new inside Hyrule Castle or trapped in a dungeon. In Breath of the wild, Zelda is often out in the fields, swinging about a frog or a rare flower. As someone who likes to talk endlessly about a mind-blowing video game or thought-provoking book, I totally understand. I love to share my passions with close friends and the world in general. Whether she’s learning about the local flora and fauna or the former Guardians, knowledge is what motivates her and fills her with purpose. The more excited she is about a new discovery, the faster she speaks. But Zelda doesn’t always feel comfortable expressing her authentic identity.

Breath of the wild Features a heartbreaking cutscene in which the King of Hyrule confronts and berates his daughter. He digs into her about what the gossipers say about her, how she wastes her time studying the Guardians, and so on. In the eyes of his father, his true identity does not matter. According to him, she has a role to play and she is absolutely screwed. As Zelda puts her hands in her fists in frustration, it’s like a scene from my own life. His anger is almost palpable. It is something that I can deeply identify with. There is nothing more disheartening than being berated for not meeting expectations or fulfilling a role someone else wants you to play, especially if it is from a loved one.

Like Zelda, I had to be someone I’m not. When I was a kid I loved video games because they broadened my imagination and calmed my anxious mind. However, they were seen as “boy’s things” and rejected by my peers and family. In my early twenties, I was forced out of the closet on a road trip. My loved ones told me I had to go to church because I was dating a woman, as if some divine intervention was somehow fixing me. When I was a little older, I was advised to hide my bisexuality from the guy I saw. For many years, I couldn’t take the pain. I collapsed like a poorly constructed sandcastle under the weight of these expectations. Nothing robs you of your autonomy as if you had no voice.

My relatives believed that bisexuality was not a reality. They couldn’t understand the fact that a person could be attracted to both men and women. They could only see the world in black and white terms. The backlash I received was cruel, unfair and unwarranted. But I learned a lot from it. I realized that I couldn’t live my life according to someone else’s plan. Until then, I was trying to be the perfect girl and friend. But the box that others put me in kept getting smaller and smaller. To live a more authentic life, I needed to turn to my friends for help.

Unable to meet her father’s expectations (an exasperating thing to deal with), Zelda turns to champions for support. They are her chosen family and they accept her for who she is. They promote a safe space where she can express herself freely, whether she is napping on Urbosa’s shoulder or sobbing in Link’s arms. It is so important to have a strong support network, especially if you are dealing with bigoted attitudes from those close to you. Everyone deserves to feel loved and validated. The Champions of Zelda made me think of my own chosen family and how they raised me during a really dark time in my life.

At university, my relationship with my family was strained. I couldn’t tell them about my sexuality without getting run over by a million questions. Everything seemed dark and hopeless; I felt like I was drowning. But my friends, a bunch of wonderful misfits with open minds and hearts, often took me on car rides in our hometown. They let me voice my worries and fears as they went up and down the busy highway that sped through our city like an arrow. It was cathartic. The gratitude that I still have for them is immense and immeasurable. They were beacons of hope and light in these difficult times. They helped me find my own strength when I was at my lowest.

Zelda also finds her own strength when she’s at her lowest point. In one of the final cutscenes, a host of aggressive Guardians approach her and a weakened Link. When she raises her hand to stop a Guardian from killing Link, her sealing power bursts at her in the form of a bright yellow light. After the light dissipates, a pair of Sheikah guards approach her and Link. The power in Zelda’s voice is undeniable as she gives the guards clear instructions to rush an Unfit Bond to the Resurrection Shrine. Despite everything she went through, she kept going. While Link is praised for his physical prowess on the battlefield, I have always believed that the true hero of Hyrule was Zelda. She took control of her destiny and found her inner voice.

I found my voice too. When I went out to my husband’s house in my thirties, I was petrified. I actually wrote myself a screenplay because I was afraid of freezing and choking on my own words. Although he was one of the nicest and most open-minded people I know, I was always afraid that he would reject me. My anxiety was probably stemming from those previous traumatic experiences. Fortunately, it suited him perfectly. He was just sad that I missed Pride Month by a few weeks because he wanted to celebrate it with me. He’s a great life partner, and I’m so lucky to have him in my corner. It took me a long time to get to this point in life, but I’m so glad I did.

Zelda taught me a lot about how to find my inner strength. Giving up on myself was not an option. Zelda had to overcome her father’s doubts and find her voice. I had to overcome the ingrained bigotry of the people I loved. I am not defined by these experiences, but I am certainly shaped by them. It’s not just about finding your inner strength, but also realizing that people can make mistakes. No one can decide what role you are supposed to play. I am valid and deserve love and respect and no one can take that away from me.