Growing up gay was challenging, to say the least. This part of my identity was just not palatable to so many people, and that left me yearning for a sense of belonging. So, as a young baby gay, I found this in shows that delved into the realm of the supernatural. These series provided a sense of escapism from the harsh reality that I’d come to know. You see, my dear, gentle reader, when one doesn’t feel like they fit in anywhere, they might feel inclined to craft a host of narratives or scenarios that make this thing called life worth living.
One of these shows that provided both an escape and comfort was “Charmed,” which premiered on The WB in 1998. Way back before we had the luxury of pausing to pee, I was glued to my television every Thursday night watching, wishing, hoping and praying that my life could somehow mimic what I saw on the screen.
One of the show’s main characters, Prue Halliwell, played by Shannen Doherty, was pivotal to my experience. Doherty, who died from cancer last week, was a champion of individuality — and she brought this to her character on the series. “Charmed” followed the lives of three quietly powerful sisters (otherwise known as the Charmed Ones) who were bonded together by magic and the task of saving the world on a weekly basis.
A world where magic reigned supreme and those who never belonged saved the day? After the first episode, I was hooked.
As gay men, we are taught, both directly and indirectly, that being who we are is wrong. So, many of us then hide our true sexualities while traversing life until we end up being the people the universe intended us to be. This is where these magical TV series come into play. Prue and her sisters gave us the space to create a reality in which we were the architects of our destiny, while providing a little razzle-dazzle on top of it all.
See, life hasn’t always been a crystal stair when it came to acceptance of who I truly was. There were splinters. My parents, whom I love dearly, did the best they could with what they knew — but I still faced outside challenges from those I called family. My mother was and remains one of the strongest examples of resilience and perseverance I can name, so I also always gravitated toward programming with strong women as leads. And “Charmed” had three? It was yet another reason to cling to the show.
When we consume media as children, we don’t realize how impactful it can be to who we are as adults. I never imagined that I would inadvertently mold my life after Doherty’s character on the series. Her fiery nature, headstrong ways and, at times, know-it-all attitude are something that I carry with me to this day.
And while you might be jarred by the idea of a Black man modeling himself after a white woman, bear with me. Back in those days, magical characters who looked like us were scarce — if not nonexistent. So, we gravitated toward attributes and not just race. As controversial as this may be, when your back is against the wall and those who are supposed to be family are not there, then survival looks a whole lot different to you.
You see, in most — if not all — of my closest gay male friendships, I am the eldest and align with Doherty’s character, Prue. I am the protective one, as well as the blunt one with a fiery personality who tends to speak his mind and give his opinion even when I know it’s not the most digestible. Ultimately, my love for the strong female figures of my upbringing was reinforced by my Prue and her sisters.
Whether they be your blood or chosen family, “Charmed” stressed the importance of surrounding yourself with equally unique people who have your best interests in mind. The sisters on the series had the “power of three,” which showed me that while you may certainly be capable, your greatest strength lies in those you call family. Series like this helped show that we can find community anywhere — and we can thrive together.
My chosen family have become my “sisters.” And so, I owe it to Doherty’s Prue and her magical community for putting her entire spirit into a show that taught me that I can both escape and belong, all at once. The power of three did indeed set us free.
