2016 was a year of tragedy. This year brought the passing of many great talents. Gene Wilder. David Bowie. Alan Rickman. But as tragic as these deaths were, none hit me harder than the death of Carrie Fisher.

If there is one thing I am known for, it is my love of Star Wars. I love Star Wars more than any other franchise. Star Wars posters, bobble heads, lightsabers, and other memorabilia line the walls of my room, and I have referenced Star Wars in almost all of my sermons. Star Wars is a part of me.

Me and my close friend Lindsay on Halloween this year:

So when I read that Carrie Fisher, the actress who masterfully portrayed Princess Leia Organa in Star Wars, died after suffering a heart attack, I felt as if part of me had died with her.

Since her passing, I have read dozens of posts describing how Fisher inspired many of the women I am friends with on Facebook, with her wit, strength, and individuality being some of her defining traits. Fisher will be remembered as an actress, author, script doctor, survivor, and beautiful talent, from the inside out. Her role of Princess Leia inspired women across the world. But as a man, Leia taught me an invaluable lesson.

Women are devalued in this world. They are seen as weak, irrational, dependents by much of society. Video games depict men rescuing the damsels. Movies show women being kidnapped and men rescuing them. Women are the hostages, the weaklings, and men are the strong rescuers, the heroes. This is the picture media paints as to the roles of men and women: Men are strong; Women are weak.

Princess Leia changed that perspective for me. I saw Star Wars for the first time and saw Princess Leia Organa. She was a princess, but not in the traditional sense. She was a warrior. A fighter. She led the mission to retrieve Obi Wan Kenobi from Tatooine and get the Death Star plans to the Rebellion. She remained strong and determined even when her home planet was destroyed. She boldly stood up to evil, backtalking Darth Vader and Grand Moff Tarkin. She put Han Solo in his place, took up arms against Stormtroopers and saved the day when all seemed lost. In the course of one movie, she shattered the stereotype that women were weak, as she was the strongest character in A New Hope.

Leia continued to show me a woman’s strength in The Empire Strikes Back. But it was in Return of the Jedi where I gained my most valuable lesson.Return of the Jedi is infamous for debuting the “Slave Leia” outfit. After freeing Han from Carbonite, the gangster Jabba the Hutt captures Leia and does the unthinkable. He forces her out of her clothes – perhaps undressing her in front of the multitude of scum and villainy – and puts her in a metal bikini, placing a chain around her neck, and forcing her to lay submissively in front of Jabba’s slimy, slug-like body. Jabba took a tough, always sensibly-clothed warrior and humiliated her publicly, making her into a overly sexualized slave.

But Leia does not complain about her humiliation. She does not make a big deal about how wrong it was for her to be objectified. She does not angrily write a 500-word blog post on Space-Tumblr about her injustice. She patiently waits until the opportune moment, and uses the chain around her neck to strangle her captive. She uses the vehicle of her humiliation as a symbol of her strength.

Leia taught me how women are not to be objectified. They are not to be looked down upon. They are strong. Cunning. Witty. Snarky. They can be leaders. Heroes. Generals. Carrie Fisher’s portrayal of Princess Leia taught me to respect women. I am not better than women. Women are just as important and strong as men are, not bodies for men to drool over.

Carrie Fisher changed my view of women for the better. When I have children of my own, I want my daughters to have role models like Princess Leia. I want my sons to learn from Leia’s teachings and the strong female roles inspired by Carrie Fisher’s performance; roles like Rey, Sarah Connor, and Hermione Granger. Carrie Fisher taught me to be person, and she shall be dearly missed. To me, she’s royalty.