I resisted Disney for years, which might sound odd to Disney lovers—for God’s sake, people have magnets on their cars showing how many times they’ve visited, and it’s even a top honeymoon destination. But with my background as a psychotherapist focused on complex trauma and stress, I knew Disney’s 90-degree heat, overpriced souvenirs, and mile-long lines would test my sanity—and maybe even the family bond. My rule was simple: I’d go only when the kids could walk on their own two feet and manage the schedule themselves. By the time that day finally came, they could have easily gone without me—but they weren’t about to let me off the hook that easily. It was finally time to see the magic kingdom—whether I liked it or not.
Within an hour, I found myself face-to-face with a towering Stormtrooper in Star Wars: Galaxy’s Edge. Out of nowhere, he blocked my path, pointed, and asked, “Are you part of the Resistance?” I froze. Sure, I knew his name was probably Larry, and this was just a junior college gig, but the theatrics got me going from zero to 100 in five seconds flat. I was freaking out as if I was about to be marched off to a galactic detention center. The kids were loving it, of course.
Somewhere in my mind, I remembered I’m supposed to be the expert on authority, boundaries, and self-determination—topics I dissect with clients daily. So, I decided to challenge him right back. “Depends,” I replied. “What’s the First Order’s stance on fulfillment, boundaries, and self-determination?” There was a pause as he tilted his helmet, maybe even rolling his eyes under that mask, before he replied in a booming, monotone voice, “The First Order will be watching you.”
My kids thought this was hilarious, but I couldn’t help but dive into the irony. The First Order operates on a strict, impersonal structure, and these Stormtroopers are the perfect enforcers of rules that no one can truly justify. It felt like the systems I see every day—high achievers caught in cycles, following rules or expectations because it’s “just the way things are.”
As we moved through the park, Stormtroopers kept appearing out of nowhere, giving me the side-eye as if I’d slipped up by deviating from their rigid path. The kids would say, “Better watch out, Mom, you’re on their list now,” and I’d joke back, “If you’re not a target for challenging authority, are you even living?”
This dynamic—these faceless soldiers enforcing orders without questioning why—was fascinating, especially in a setting designed to be the “happiest place on Earth.” Here I was, dodging accusations from soldiers programmed to follow orders, who reminded me of how so many people move through life, adhering to expectations that don’t align with their personal values but keep them locked in familiar, “safe” patterns.
At one point, as I was “hiding” in plain sight at the Millennium Falcon, I thought, “This whole theme park experience mirrors the internal battles so many high achievers face.” My clients frequently wrestle with what others expect of them versus what they want for themselves, often feeling like they’re under constant watch by those around them. It’s no wonder so many people burn out, feeling like they’re always “on watch,” trying to meet demands that don’t align with their boundaries or sense of fulfillment.
Disney turned out to be an interesting adventure. We managed to hit two parks in one day, and I can probably say I’ll never set foot in it again. Between getting dizzy on rides and losing my voice after 20 minutes of non-stop screaming, I’ve met my thrill quota for the next decade. But the lessons stuck with me: never let the First Order—or anyone else—dictate your path. Rules without reason may keep us safe and predictable, but absolute freedom comes from knowing when to step out of line and set your course.
Contact me if you would like me to facilitate workshops or trainings for your community on handling stormtroopers at Disney or living a life full of joy and self-determination. May the force be with you.
