Who knew a movie about a doll could be so empowering. Yes, I'm talking about the Barbie movie. Have you seen it yet?

On the way to the movie, I was walking with three girlfriends, all of us in pink and feeling a little silly. I thought Barbie-love and wearing hot pink draws attention to the part of the female experience that is far too easy to make fun of. Then, a stranger yelled something at us from her car.

“HI BARBIE!!!”

Before I could register the meaning of the words, my body instinctively went into protective mode. I assumed it was going to be bitchy and demeaning, a sentiment meant to tear down a too-happy and loud group of females. Maybe to let us know we were "basic".

Let’s face it, other women can be notoriously competitive, even mean, especially when they feel threatened or jealous. There’s something about a gathering of women, celebrating and being silly, that can trigger the insecure parts of the feminine spectator.

“HI BARBIE!!!”

When the thing she shouted out was actually sweet, and connecting, I was shook!

Later reflecting on the moment, tears welled up in my eyes. Why was I crying? Maybe because I’m aching for a world where we can yell, “Hey Barbie!” across the street to that stranger who needs a pep talk, or to that “extra” bedazzled person who is on top of the world. A world where we can trust the goodness and acceptance of the strangers around us.

A week later, I watched an amazing talk on the importance of bringing the Female Gaze into movies. Joey Soloway argues that the female gaze is more than a role reversal where women objectify men, or having a woman as the main character in a typical action film. It invites the viewer to feel as a woman feels, to go beyond simply seeing and instead to immerse oneself in feeling what the main character feels.

Two weeks later, dressed in sequins and holding my teenager's hands while scream-singing with 70,000 other fans, I found myself immersed in what the main character of Taylor Swift feels.

During a break in singing, Taylor talked about the joy she feels performing and the LA crowd began to clap and scream for.….8 minutes. Taylor just stood there, vacillating from elated acceptance to baffled disbelief. We wouldn't even let her sing, we were celebrating the moment so loudly.

We celebrated the way she sauntered across that stage with such agency, looking coyishly back at us through batted eyelashes, daring us to flirt with life like she does. In that moment, she completely felt her power and her delightfulness.

We want to feel that too outside of female-run spaces like Taylor and Barbie.

What if every mom walked around wearing whatever made her feel beautiful and strutting in her God-given goodness? What if every mom parented in the way that brought her joy, rather than worrying about what the judgmental crowd wants?

My head is spinning with thoughts. How do we get to feel the way Taylor (and Barbie) feel about themselves without a stadium encouraging us?

One way is to extend a kindness to our daughters we may have not received.