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Star Wars is a lot of things to a lot of people. It is an iconic space opera, an epic tale of rebellion and resistance in the face of impossible odds. But for me, as I look back on the original trilogy as an adult, I realize that it was also about healing the wounds inflicted upon us by our parents. As the son of an addict, it took me years to figure out why Luke’s journey meant so much to me – his path toward accepting the shortcomings of his father was similar to my own relationship with my mother.

Without getting too heavy for you all, it is fair to say that my mother was a complicated person. Not 'conduct a galactic genocide and enact authoritarian policies' complicated like Darth Vader but just as destructive in our family unit. She was an alcoholic and drug addict from before I could remember; many of my earliest memories were of her either in prison or under the influence. For most of my teenage years, I didn’t know if she was alive or dead, as she had fled the state and cut off all ties with me to escape a lengthy prison sentence.

I could go on, but the point is that my relationship with my mother was complex and difficult right up until she died in 2010 from kidney failure. Because her death was sudden and I was already living overseas at the time, I never had the heart-to-heart conversation with her that might have resulted in an explanation or even an apology for the aforementioned 'lifetime of neglect and substance abuse'. Instead, I was stuck with abandonment issues and a lack of closure. At the time, I didn’t have therapy, but I did have Star Wars.

The shared bond my mother & I had with the original Star Wars trilogy

See, my mother loved Star Wars, and she was the one who got me into the movies. Back before the prequels and sequels and animated series, Star Wars was just me and my mom watching an old VHS on a school night because she didn’t tend to be home on the weekends. She loved Leia for the same reasons I loved my mother; because she was mouthy and sarcastic but strong enough to stand up to Vader and Tarkin even after they blew her whole planet up.

After my mother died, it took me a long time to go back and rewatch Star Wars – even the parts I had never seen with her. It was the franchise my mother and I would watch together, and it felt wrong to watch it without her. When I finally did go back and watch the original trilogy, I found myself drawn more to Luke’s journey than I ever had before. Specifically, I was drawn to Luke’s relationship with his father, (spoilers!) Darth Vader.

There was something uncomfortably familiar about Luke’s relationship with Vader through the original trilogy. There was anger and hatred, obviously; emotions that I knew I had in me. Even before the big reveal in The Empire Strikes Back, Luke is driven to defeat Vader for the death of Obi-Wan, but it goes deeper than that. Vader, the personification of all the evil in Anakin Skywalker’s heart, had stolen his father from him. From a certain point of view, Vader had consumed Anakin the same way addiction had consumed my mother, and Luke was left alone because of it.

How Luke's struggle with his father helped me understand my own with my mother

For me, watching Star Wars again in the midst of my grief, the revelation that Vader was Luke’s father hit harder because, like Luke, I had to accept that this dark figure in my life was my parent. The part of my mother that had spent decades prioritizing alcohol and drugs was just as real as the part that had read to me every night, taught me that singing loudly was just as important as singing well, and always told me to never pass up the opportunity to make a great story. Luke’s rejection didn’t make it less true, just like I couldn’t ignore the things my mother did to paint her in a more positive light after her death.

With this new interpretation of Luke and Vader’s relationship, I watched Return of the Jedi in a very different way. Suddenly, Luke was fighting not with his father but with the darkness in his father that guided his actions. His frustration as he explained to people that there was good in him was familiar to me; I’d had the same conversation with family even before my mother’s death. There was good in her, for sure, but it wasn’t visible to most people. When you blow up a family as dramatically as Vader blew up Alderaan, it is what people remember you for. And yet, Luke still went into the final confrontation with Vader with the clear goal of “saving” his father. I understood this because every child of an addict dreams of “saving” them from themselves.

And, for Luke, his parent’s redemption came, but it wasn’t because Luke fought really hard or said the right words. It was simply because, at that moment, Vader chose his child over power. Because, like an addict, the will to change had to come from him or it wouldn’t mean anything. However, the moment Luke fully came into his power wasn’t when he was battling Vader; it was when he accepted that Vader was his father and made the choice to embody the good that had been in his father. The good that no one else could see but that he had to believe was there.

The long shadow - and the silver lining - of troubled parents

That was always a powerful image to me; I used to be afraid of what my mother might have passed on to me, but now I know that I got plenty of good from her. Her sense of humor. Her smile. Her complete inability to turn away when someone is in need. She passed all this on to me just as surely as she passed on any increased risk of addiction.

Sadly, I never got that same moment of seeing my parent turn away from their darkness that Luke did; my mother died still in the grip of her addiction without spending more than a few months sober in her final decade of life. But, because of Star Wars, I suddenly had a new way of processing my grief and pain and desire for closure that I didn’t know I had. Luke and I shared a burden, different and on very different scales (again, my mother never committed a planetary genocide that I’m aware of) but similar. We were forced to reckon with the failings of our parents in a way that most people didn’t and, ultimately, accept them. Not forgive, necessarily, but accept and love them for our own health and journey.

I’m aware that this is a very specific interpretation of Star Wars and Luke’s story that will only apply to my very specific circumstances. I am not trying to sell you a new, “correct” version of the movies. I am not saying that George Lucas envisioned Vader as anything other than a fascist who needed to be stopped. However, in my mind, Star Wars has become about healing and acceptance as much as anything else. To me, Luke’s story isn’t about mastering the Force; it is about him accepting his father’s failings, confronting the darkness within him, and learning to love him anyway.

Get to know, understand, and love the Star Wars franchise more with our Star Wars watch order, guide to all the upcoming Star Wars movies & TV shows, and all the Star Wars movies and Star Wars TV shows ranked.