Something that is so, so relatable to me about Sabine is that she’s the first-born daughter, straight-A student, high achiever, carrier of her parents’ and culture’s expectations. I was thinking about this when I noticed that, within the first five minutes of reuniting with each of her parents, after she’s been gone for years and possibly presumed dead, they both let her know that she hasn’t measured up to their expectations. She’s not the warrior her mother wanted, and her father critiques her art.
Which reminded me of Bo-Katan’s: “A Mandalorian with a Jetpack is a weapon.”
It made me wonder if this is how Mandalorians evaluate their people, their families. That you’re only as worthy of love as you measure up to a certain standard or ideal. Your usefulness, your skill, your success, your House and Clan. Loved for what you are and what you contribute instead of who you are.
I think Sabine had always existed as a What, rather than a Who.
And it finally solved for me something I’d been stuck on. I knew exactly how Sabine found Ezra and fixed his being lost, but what I couldn’t pin down was exactly how Ezra healed a broken Sabine.
It reminded me of this explanation about Padme and Anakin: Padme indulged in Anakin because, ever since she was a child queen, he was the only one who ever wanted just her. Not the Queen or the Senator. Just Padme.
I think, similarly, in her whole life up to that point, no one had ever formed a relationship with Sabine just for her. For who she was. Without some kind of expectation of something from her for her intellect, skills, talent, or information.
Her parents and people, the Empire, Ketsu, even Kanan and Hera to some extent, form relationships with Sabine based on What.
Only Ezra pursues the Who.
“Sabine. My name is Sabine.”
And even she doesn’t really know who she is yet when she meets him, but they go on this journey together. They figure out who they are and the kind of people they want to be. Together.
“Happy Birthday, Ezra Bridger.”
Sabine learns how to be a Who with and because of Ezra. It’s a reciprocal, complementary relationship. She finds him, sees him, encourages him to become so much more than he believes he could be. He’s too much Who and not enough What.
She’s too much What and not enough Who. Ezra heals her brokenness by seeing beyond the What.
To him, she’s more than just the sum total of her abilities and accomplishments. She’s not someone to be evaluated, to be accepted or dismissed based on her success or failure. He reassures her that she’s more than all of the labels she’s been assigned and holds on to herself.
To Ezra, she’s not just Clan Wren, House Viszla. Her mother’s warrior or her father’s prodigy. She’s not the abomination of the Duchess, an Imperial Traitor, a Traitor to Mandalore, or a failed bounty hunter. She’s not a translator, a weapons expert, an artist, a tech or a Rebel. She’s not even Spectre 5.