Last week’s revelation: After ruthlessly defending it, I’ve since come to the uncomfortable conclusion that”Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt” is much more fragile than I’d like.
I believed in Santa Claus even longer than my little sister, though for years I’d suspected there was something odd about a magical man coming into your home (through a chimney no less) and eating your cookies. Even when she started to question his existence, I defended it. I loved Santa Claus, wanted to believe in him, and did so until that awkward conversation around the dinner table when my parents confirmed my sister’s suspicions to be true. “He lives in your heart,” they consoled me.
Now, as an adult, I get it. Nobody’s perfect, and the people we idolize, we idolize for what we hope they represent at their best. Continue reading “My Unbreakable Faith in Kimmy Schmidt is Broken”