When I was a kid, I really wanted to be Spider-Man. I hadn’t read the comics yet, but the Sam Raimi movies inspired me to want to swing around New York on webs while wearing a red-and-blue Spandex suit, because how else would a spider-person dress themselves to fight crime?
I definitely wasn’t unique in this regard – practically every kid I knew was obsessed with the web-slinger after the first movie came out in 2002 – but there was just one little detail about me that not every other kid had to deal with: I’m a girl.
Still, I persisted. I dressed up as Spider-Man for two Halloweens in a row; I cut holes in the sides of the face mask so the arms of my glasses could still hook around my ears. It didn’t matter to me that Spider-Man wasn’t a girl, and I was too young to really dig deep into the question of “Well, why can’t he be?”