My mom and her best friend made my Barbies feminists. They were 25 years ahead of the curve.

• Growing up, my mom and her best friend Gina would tell stories that made my Barbies empowering.
• They were both single moms and taught me how to choose makeup and use a drill.

The lights dimmed. Scattered squeals reverberated around the movie theatre. I squished around in my seat for optimal comfort and reached for a handful of absurdly expensive popcorn. A smile spread across my face as I adjusted the pink Barbie-themed bucket hat my girlfriend made me for our date night to see the "Barbie" movie.

As a kid, I loved playing with Barbie dolls, so I was curious and eager to see what director Greta Gerwig had in store.

For those who haven't seen the movie, most of the film's action takes place in Barbieland, a cotton candy-colored oasis populated by different Barbie and Ken dolls from history (and lest we forget, Allan and Midge). In this parallel universe, behind every successful Barbie is a Ken. Not figuratively—there are literally several Kens quietly lurking behind the successful Barbies who run the world, hoping to gain affection and a sense of self-worth from the Barbies' acknowledgement of their omnipresence. However, the Barbies are too busy cheering each other on and having dance party sleepovers to care.

A feminist Barbie was not a surprise for me

For many of us who occupy this universe, Barbieland felt like an idyllic utopia. In Barbieland, it's accepted that Barbies could have feelings and think logically, Barbies could hold positions of power without being questioned, and Construction Worker Barbies could do their jobs without objectifying those walking by with whistles and catcalls. Barbies respected and supported each other and not only achieved equality but dismantled patriarchy altogether.

Many seemed pleasantly surprised that the legacy of Barbie could so seamlessly integrate with feminism. For me, it was nothing new. This feminist lens of Barbie had been preached to me since I was a kid by my mom and her best friend Gina.

Both storytellers by trade and by personal passion, my mom and Gina would tell me and Gina's son, Diego, "The Barbie Stories" to occupy our time during long car rides or while waiting for our food to arrive when dining out. In their version, Barbie was a fearless, independent woman who would go on adventures while Ken was just along for the ride. Sound familiar?

My mom and her best friend taught me I could be and do anything

My mom and Gina's shared humor and flair for the dramatic led to comedic situations like Barbie using a safety pin to separate her eyelashes when her makeup melted during a hot summer hike right before using her wilderness skills to save herself and Ken from a mountain lion. Barbie's multidimensionality reflected my mom and Gina's own principles.

Both being single moms, my mom and Gina's individual self-reliance was vital to our collective survival. At a time when the idea of a traditional family had just begun to fracture, they took on tasks and obstacles that were considered "masculine" or "the dad role" simply because they had to.

That's why they were able to teach me both how to find the right lipstick shade as well as the difference between a flathead and Phillips-head screwdrivers. Along with their Barbie, they didn't reject femininity but expanded to embrace whatever quality they wanted or needed, setting an example that became my compass as I grew into an adult.

As the credits rolled, I was filled with a renewed sense of gratitude for my mom and Gina. The "Barbie" movie introduced Barbie feminism to a whole new generation, but thanks to my mom and Gina, strong, independent women — and Barbie — was all I knew growing up.

They were 25 years ahead of the curve when they taught me how fun and fulfilling it could be to be a Barbie girl in a Barbie world.