The Ballad of "Hua Mulan"

I'm sure you've heard of the story of the "Disney Princess," Mulan. I'm sure you've watched the cartoon movie, or maybe even watched the live action with your kids or family?

I'm sure you enjoyed it, considering the fact that the cartoon displayed an important theme we needed in our lives. Mulan struggles because she doesn’t fit the traditional role expected of her. The movie showed that your worth isn’t defined by tradition, labels, or expectations, it’s defined by who you are and what you choose to do.

Cute, right?

But have you ever heard of Mulan in the ancient Chinese legend? The story originates from an old folk ballad called “The Ballad of Hua Mulan,” which dates back over 1,500 years (around the Northern Wei dynasty, 4th–6th century).

The true story of Mulan was something much darker, tragic, not some fairytale fantasy where some made-up prince or "knight in shining armor" could come save sleeping beauty.

No, Mulan's true life ended in death.

Tragedy.

Loss.

Blankness.

In the darkest depths of the Mulan legend, Mulan disguises herself as a man to take her aging father’s place in the army, fully aware that discovery would mean execution. For years, she endures relentless warfare, marching through cold and hunger, watching friends die, and carrying wounds she cannot reveal. She survives by erasing herself, burying fear, pain, and identity beneath armor and silence. Every day is lived under the threat of exposure, yet she continues fighting out of duty, not glory.

No, Mulan doesn't meet her Li-Shang in this life.

And the war finally ends, Mulan returns home hoping for rest, only to find devastation waiting for her. Her father has died, her family is fractured, and the life she sacrificed everything to protect no longer exists. Instead of gratitude, the state demands her obedience, ordering her to become a concubine and stripping her of the freedom she earned through blood and years of service. Faced with losing herself once again, Mulan refuses. Choosing death over a life of submission, she turns her final act into one of control and defiance—making her story not just a tale of heroism, but a tragedy about sacrifice, loss, and a world that honors bravery only when it is convenient.

The exact method varies by version:

In some tellings, she kills herself quietly before the officials arrive.

In others, she throws herself into a river.

Sometimes it is described briefly and symbolically, emphasizing choice rather than violence.

But Mulan still dies.

So no, maybe Mulan's destiny was determined before she chose that very path that cost her life. Maybe freedom didn't exist for many like her.

They wanted honor, but the world only offered sacrifice and chains disguised as glory. She fought for family, for duty, for a chance at life...yet life itself denied her the reward of living on her own terms. In the end, courage was not enough; the system, the expectations, and the weight of tradition claimed what should have been hers. Her bravery saved others, but for herself, it only brought suffering.

Perhaps that is the cruel truth of heroes like Mulan: that in a world ruled by power and expectation, even the strongest hearts are not free.

So think of THIS message instead:

Even today, people face pressures that limit freedom—society, gender roles, or expectations. Like Mulan, many sacrifice their own identity or happiness for others. Her story reminds us that courage and duty are noble, but true heroism also means protecting oneself and claiming autonomy.

It's okay not to get your happy ending sometimes.

But put YOURSELF first.