What Wicked Reminded Me About Life, Friendship, and the Dreams We’re Still Fighting For

Monday night Blu and I finally got to go to an early viewing of Wicked: For Good — something I actually signed up for months ago on Amazon Prime. They had an early-release option where Prime members could register for a chance to get tickets, but it wasn’t guaranteed because they were limited and expected to sell out fast. I signed up anyway, crossed my fingers, and about a month ago got the notification that they were available. I grabbed two immediately. Ever since we went, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. Until last year, I honestly wasn’t a fan of Wicked. I didn’t know much about it, and someone once told me it was basically a Wizard of Oz “remake,” so I judged it way too quickly. (And honestly, if someone had just told me Kristin Chenoweth was Glinda in the Broadway show, I probably would have gone to see it immediately.) Wizard of Oz was huge in my life — part of my childhood and part of my family. That famous Glinda line, “Are you a good witch or a bad witch?” felt freeing even as a kid. I loved witches and never understood why people acted like they were automatically bad. I always wondered how they got that way. I was a little rough around the edges growing up, but I never lashed out without a reason. That’s just not who I am. I’m a live-and-let-live person. So if a witch was acting out, I wanted to know what pushed her there. But no one wanted to explore Oz that deeply with me. Either they didn’t get it, or they thought I was trying to talk my way out of trouble — which wasn’t true. I never cared if I got in trouble for defending myself. My parents always knew if I was involved in something, someone else started it. Those nights usually ended with ice cream or a new Barbie. But if I started something? That was different. They warned me they’d melt all my Barbies. I believed them. One time my mom said if she had to ask me to do something again, she’d cut my Barbie’s hair off. I tested her. She grabbed my dad’s electric razor and shaved Barbie bald. I never tested her again. Barbie hair was everything to me.

Looking back, if I hadn’t listened to that wrong take about Wicked and just watched it, I probably would’ve found the exact kind of thinkers I always wanted to talk to. Wicked is not a remake. It’s its own powerful, blended perspective that answers the questions I used to ask as a kid. And Blu tried to tell me that more than once, but I didn’t listen. Timing is everything, and the first movie’s release in 2024 couldn’t have come at a better time. It’s a really moving movie. It reminds you things are almost never what they seem, and that jumping to conclusions usually only adds to the fallout. I’m not spoiling anything before the official 2025 release, but it stirred something in me that I needed to say out loud. One of the biggest things it showed me is how Blu had been saying all along that I’d love this story, and somehow I still didn’t hear her. That happens in life — the answer is right in front of you and you miss it. I’m not sure what finally broke through. Maybe it was seeing Ariana Grande cast as Glinda. My heart lifted. She’s on basically all my playlists because of how much emotion she puts into every song. It’s healing. Seeing her play my favorite witch ever definitely pulled me in. Around that same time in 2024, Blu and I were already knee-deep in building Whispers of Windsor. And as hectic and insane as our work lives were, we still kept finding ways to work on Windsor while working — sending each other ideas on breaks and between customers, voice-noting in the car, texting chapters back and forth whenever we could get a second. We barely had time to breathe, but somehow we were still pouring every leftover piece of ourselves into this world. So when the first Wicked movie came out, it felt like a breath of air for us — a little moment to take a night off, just hang out, and watch a movie in the middle of everything feeling heavy. Then somewhere in the middle of all that chaos, life piled on. Normally, Blu and I balanced each other — when things were hard for me, they weren’t for her, and when her world got heavy, mine would ease up. But this time it didn’t work that way. This time life came for both of us at once. We were each navigating some of the hardest seasons of our lives, still trying to hold Windsor together in the cracks between everything else. We were so focused on surviving and creating at the same time that we didn’t notice the months stacking up. We just kept going. So when the second movie was announced, it wasn’t just excitement for a sequel — it was this sudden, almost shocking reminder that an entire year had passed while we were still fighting to finish the same dream. It hit us hard — realizing we were still in the same place: finalizing, finishing, editing, rewriting, choosing fonts, picking chapter titles, fixing page numbers, formatting, styling, and doing all the behind-the-scenes things no one tells you about in the story-building process. None of that stuff is natural to us, but if we want to share Windsor with the world, we have to figure it out. And people truly don’t realize how much goes into building a story. How many drafts. How many late nights. How many scenes we’ve torn apart and rebuilt. How many emotional moments ended with us texting each other, “Okay… back to it.” We want everyone to finally step into this world we’ve been building. We want to finally give this world we built to people. But the truth is, we both work multiple jobs to pay real bills, and life doesn’t pause just because you’re trying to create something magical. So yes, it might still take a little time before we can finally share this world with everyone. Our podcast will also take some time to produce. And we hate that. We’re sorry for the wait. But we’re asking everyone to stick with us. Keep believing in Windsor the way we do. We are pouring every piece of ourselves into this story, and when it finally arrives, we hope it’s worth every second of waiting. Another thing that slowed us down wasn’t even the writing — it was figuring out the best way to bring Windsor into the world. Do we self-publish? Do we partner with someone? Do we release it another way entirely? We had no idea which felt right for us or how to begin. Then Blu’s friend, Jillian Claire, published her debut project and invited Blu to sit in on the process. Jillian was going through one of the hardest times in her life, and her book reflects that. It’s not just poems — it’s a healing journey. That’s how she and Blu became close. Her book can be found on Amazon. It was released November 15, 2025: From The Rubble by Jillian Claire. It would mean the world to me if you helped support her. This book is a beautiful journey from loss to healing in the aftermath of trauma. I want to mention her book because I genuinely think it could help someone who’s hurting. And if anyone wants a copy but can’t afford it, I have one free copy to give. The only “payment” I’d ever ask is if life gives you the chance to share it with someone who needs it, I hope you will.

One thing this whole journey has shown me — and something Wicked reminded me of again — is how much we change just by knowing each other. Blu and I are better because of each other. We see the world differently because of each other. We dream bigger, fight harder, and get back up faster. Stories change people, but sometimes the people in your life change the story. We can love our enemy. And if we do, what if that changed the world? Whispers of Windsor is what it is because of who we are together. Because of what we’ve survived, what we’ve lost, and what we still believe in even when life tries to make us forget. Maybe that’s why the movie hit so close. It showed how two people can shape the world around them simply by being in each other’s lives. And maybe that’s the point. The story needed us to become who we are now before it was ready to belong to everyone else. And when it finally does, I hope it brings people the same escape it gave us. I hope people don’t just experience it — I hope they feel it. If you made it all the way to the end, thank you. Your time, your support, and your willingness to sit with my words mean more than I could ever explain. I’m grateful for you being here. Thank you, thank you, thank you