IGF CultureWatch

When I was a young girl, I loved fairy tales. Especially Cinderella.

Part of it was her sparkly dress in the Disney movie version. But part of it was the feeling all children - and perhaps especially gay children - have at some point: that your family of origin doesn't understand you (and also, they make you do icky chores).

Cinderella captures that, plus the hopeful thought that someday you will fall in love and someone will fall in love with you, and they will see you for the beautiful princess you are.

I loved Cinderella as a child and I loved it as a teenager, when I read re-imagined, darker versions.

The trouble, however, with Cinderella, as with most traditional fairy tales, is that the Princess-to-be is always straight, as is the Prince. Fairy tales help children and teens imagine an adult life where they overcome adversity to find authenticity and love, but it is always straight love. And young people need to know they can find happily-ever-after with a same-sex partner, if that is what their sexual orientation turns out to be.

That's why I really appreciate books like Malinda Lo's Ash. Ash, which will be released in September, is a retelling of the Cinderella story for a young adult audience. In it, the orphaned girl, here given the nickname Ash, is forced into servitude for her stepmother and stepsisters to pay her father's debts. There is a prince, and a ball, and fairies, and a spectacular dress.

But there's something else as well.

Though Ash finds herself at first seduced by a man, she grows into a mature love with a woman who has taught her skills she needs to survive and thrive in the world. It reads the way an actual coming out can, moving from what is expected to what is true.

Ash is not just a straight fairy tale with the genders of one of the heroes switched; instead, it is fairytale told with a lesbian sensibility.

As adult gays and lesbians, we see many more representations of ourselves in the world. We're no longer limited to the limp-wristed gay best friend role in sitcoms, or the murderous lesbian in heels (or flannel) in movies. We are no longer ignored in books published by mainstream publishing houses, or pushed into the gay section in bookstores.

Instead, we are doctors, housewives, and accountants in media representations, just as we are in real life. We fall in love, we do good deeds and bad ones, we get revenge, we get jealous, we get hurt, we get hope.

Children and young adults see those images now, too, but they don't necessarily identify with them. That's why it is amazing that children's books like King & King, which tells the story of two princes who fall in love, and young adult books like Ash are starting to fill in the gaps.

Fairy tales tell archetypal stories with themes that deeply resonate with us. That's why the tales have lasted so long in so many different forms. So fairy tales creatively re-imagined with gay protagonists - fairy tales that use a familiar form to tell true gay stories - are necessary for us to help craft the narratives of our lives.

I'm grateful for Ash and King & King and all the other stories that are reassuring children and young adults who might be gay that their lives, too, will have richness and triumph and magic and love.

They need to know - really, deeply, fully know - that life may be hard. Your stepmother may lock you in the cellar. You might have to clean out the fireplace. No one may understand you. But gays and lesbians have happily-ever-afters, too.