The enduring humanity of Wanda Maximoff

 This post contains spoilers for the series finale of "WandaVision," which aired March 5, 2021.

Dread it. Run from it. Grief arrives all the same.

Don't miss a moment of Marvel Studios' #WandaVision, now streaming on @DisneyPlus. pic.twitter.com/nq3j7ii6LP

— WandaVision (@wandavision) February 1, 2021

Wanda Maximoff has sat with grief more than anyone should have to in a lifetime. We get a front seat — both to her grief and her time processing it — in the penultimate episode of "WandaVision." After her parents’ death, we see her trapped under the rubble and then in her room at HYDRA, isolated and watching old shows to comfort herself, unable to escape her aching sadness. After her brother’s death, we never see his burial. And either way, Wanda is effectively imprisoned at New Avengers Facility, again sitting on a bed that isn’t hers as she watches TV, consumed by loss.

When Vision dies in "Infinity War", Wanda has a brief moment to come to peace with the fact he died to save the world before Thanos cruelly reverses time just to kill him again. There, Wanda has mere moments to grieve before being snapped out of existence, returning in "Endgame" to boost the Avengers against the Mad Titan.

There’s a funeral for Tony Stark and a bench thrown for Natasha Romanoff, but nothing for Vision. Wanda chooses not to hide from her grief but to confront it, first at SWORD headquarters and then in that empty lot in New Jersey. This is old hat for her at this point; we presume she didn’t get to see her parents’ bodies so she wants to see her love’s, to give herself some sense of closure. For once. So, she meets her grief head on. And it swallows her whole and takes a whole town with it.

For those of us without magic, grief manifests in less cinematic, but no less devastating ways. We grieve loved ones, relationships, friendships, careers, routines, and places. We grieve the loss of our good health, of a pet, of our childhood home. Grief has no blueprint for how or when it affects us. Some choose to hide it, only to have it come crashing in years later. Some choose to confront it, hoping to diminish it, and still feel as if they are exploding with the pain. It can reach out and affect every aspect of our lives — and the lives of those around us.

From the jump, I was wary of WandaVision. How many times in media have we encountered a powerful woman who became dangerous simply because she was emotional and “couldn’t control it” (Dany, Willow, Jean Grey, Elsa)? How many times have real women been pushed aside simply for expressing their feelings, dismissed as hormonal or crazy? Would this show about a powerful woman in the grip of grief be any different?

In some ways, yes. And in other ways, no. And I think that’s all right. Wanda Maximoff’s love for Vision created the Hex, but it wasn’t ultimately what broke that scarlet barrier. It was her humanity. It was the realization that her “perfect neighborhood” had so deeply traumatized the regular inhabitants of Westview, who were collectively grieving the loss of their autonomy and agency as they stepped towards her in the street. It was Dottie (Sarah), it seems, who really reached through Wanda’s grief with her own as she begged to be able to hold her little daughter. Perhaps this hit a nerve with Wanda, who was only a little older than Dottie’s daughter when she lost her own mother. And Wanda has a touching moment with Monica near the end of the episode where Monica tells her, with compassion in her eyes, that she would have done something similar if it meant bringing her mother back. It’s a reminder to Wanda that all of us grieve.

Well, maybe not ALL of us. As Vision told Wanda in episode 8, he does not know grief because he has not had anyone to lose. We see him experience joy, fear, surprise, anger, and love in the Hex — all human emotions, just as grief is a human emotion. Wanda may be some prophesied sorceress, yes, but she is still human. She showed that humanity by choosing to take down the Hex and allow the townsfolk to live freely again, effectively erasing her life with Vision and the twins. Yes, it was the right thing to do, and who knows how long the Hex had been active, but it still took strength and compassion to do — to expose her battered soul to more grief.

And before she loses Vision a third time, she tells him, “You are my sadness and my hope. But mostly, you’re my love.”

After all, what is grief if not love persevering?