Wicked 💚🩷

Wicked has had a profound effect on me, one that I didn’t expect when I first encountered the story. Like so many people, I grew up knowing only one version of the Wicked Witch of the West: she was simply wicked. End of story. But early on, there’s a line Glinda delivers — “Are people born wicked, or do they have wickedness thrust upon them?” — and that question lodged itself deep within me. It reframed everything. Not just the story on stage or screen, but the stories we carry about ourselves.

Because the truth is, children are innocent when they enter the world. They come curious, expressive, and full of possibility. It’s what they experience — what they’re told, what they’re denied, what they survive — that begins to shape who they are and who they believe they can become. That realization sent me on a quiet but meaningful journey of reflection. I had already been wrestling with questions about why I feel the way I feel about certain things, and why that familiar sense of not being enough shows up so often in my life. Those feelings didn’t appear out of nowhere. They were shaped over time, especially by being told that singing — something that felt like breath and truth to me — could never be more than a hobby. That it wasn’t practical. That it wasn’t something I was “good enough” to build a life around. Even when the words weren’t meant to harm, they landed heavy. And slowly, they began to shape the version of me that learned to shrink dreams, to question calling, and to doubt what once came so naturally.

In that way, Elphaba’s story feels painfully familiar. She isn’t born wicked — she’s misunderstood, mislabeled, and shaped by how others respond to her difference and her power. Her green skin becomes a reason for the world to define her before she ever gets the chance to define herself. Watching her journey reminds me how easily narratives are imposed, and how long it can take to unlearn the lies we’ve absorbed about who we are allowed to be.

What Wicked ultimately offers is not just empathy, but permission — permission to revisit old stories with compassion, to recognize how experiences shape us without letting them have the final word. It invites us to ask gentler questions: Who was I before doubt crept in? What parts of me are still waiting to be reclaimed? And maybe most importantly, who might I become if I choose to believe that I was never lacking — only learning?

There’s also a message woven into Wicked that isn’t always explicitly stated, but it feels deeply familiar to real life. Watching Cynthia Erivo and Ariana Grande’s friendship blossom, I immediately recognized it for what it was — because I’ve experienced it myself. When you meet someone your soul recognizes, there’s an undeniable gravitational pull. It’s rare, affirming, and sacred. You don’t want distance from that kind of connection because it feels purposeful, like alignment. That realization led me to think about calling, career, and the paths we choose to walk. What would have happened if Cynthia hadn’t followed her dream — if she never became a Broadway actress or the voice and influence she is today? What if Ariana Grande had chosen a completely different path and never pursued music? If either of them had turned away from their gifting, their lives — and this story — would look entirely different.

But because both of them chose to believe, to commit, and to walk fully in what they were given, their paths crossed. And in meeting one another, they were changed — artistically, personally, and spiritually. It’s a powerful reminder that when we honor our calling, we don’t just shape our own lives; we make space for the connections, collaborations, and transformations that were always meant to find us. Changed for good. No pun intended.

So this is my call — to myself as much as to anyone reading. Walk in purpose. Don’t be so quick to accept the words spoken over you as truth, especially when they contradict what God has placed inside you. Be intentional with your gifts. Guard them. Steward them. Honor the calling God has written into your life, even when others can’t see it yet or don’t understand it at all.

I’m not suggesting that Wicked is a spiritual movie, but there are undeniable lessons to be learned — not only from the story, but from the people who chose to be a part of it. From the courage to show up fully, to the decision to believe in one’s gifting, to the faith it takes to stay the course long enough for purpose to meet opportunity. Those choices matter. They shape lives. They shape legacies. And if we’re willing to pay attention — to reflect, to unlearn, and to move forward with intention — then we, too, can be changed. Changed by truth. Changed by courage. Changed by obedience to the calling God has placed on our lives. Changed for good. Pun absolutely intended.