Coming out of the closet isn’t easy. Young queer people are made to sacrifice potentially everything just to be themselves. Family could abandon them, friends could push them away, and society as a whole could deem them as something to be thrown aside and ostracized. I’m a tremendously proud pansexual transwoman, but even now I doubt my own identity, scared that I’ll never live up to my own internal expectations and those others have of me. It’s an irrational mindset, but one that’s shared by many in the LGBTQ+ community.

The Owl House’s second season has expressed this struggle beautifully through the characters of Amity Blight and Luz Noceda. I’ve written about the show’s focus on youthful rebellion and the importance of its queer themes before, but the whole ordeal reaches a new crescendo with its latest episode. ‘Through The Looking Glass Ruins’ is both delightfully gay and a poignant glimpse at the struggles of being in the closet, where many have no choice but to confide in loved ones when there’s nowhere else left to turn. It’s wonderfully explicit in its honesty, culminating in a lesbian kiss that breaks boundaries in the world of modern animation.

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Following the events of a previous episode, Luz feels an immense sense of guilt after Amity saved her from certain death, knowing she was punished by her parents and forced to hide away once again in fear of being labelled a meddlesome outsider. This guilt grows as she’s forced to venture to the local library in search of an ancient book, the very same place where Amity works. She’s between a rock and a hard place, forced to confront her crush in a way that inevitably ends in disaster. It’s a foregone conclusion, the two teenagers awkwardly flirting with the idea of being more than friends without ever committing to anything.

The Owl House
Credit Disney

Their jaunt quickly goes wrong, with Luz’s abrasive nature drawing this stealthy mission to a close as they are chucked outside and forced to face the music. Upon being banished from the library and losing her job, Amity bursts into tears. “Everything changed since you came here,” she says, turning to her friend and expecting to be mocked, or for this pseudo-confession to be turned against her as a sign of abnormality. “Being around you, it makes me do stupid things and I wish I didn’t.” To our surprise, it’s the exact opposite. Luz echoes her feelings, stating that Amity makes her do stupid things too before the duo parts ways and we’re left to ruminate where it all could go from here.

Such a scene excels because it’s so unexpectedly raw. It’s awash with confusion, a level of anxious misunderstanding that comes when young people have to comprehend their own attraction, and how this newfound identity fosters resentment if people aren’t around to support you, to show that LGBTQ+ people are nothing to be ashamed of. Amity has spent the entire show crushing on Luz while fearing rejection, and this is the first time she’s ever been made to feel loved. It’s a shattering of glass, an acceptance of her place in the world and how perhaps, for the first time ever, she’s found somewhere to belong.

Aside from wayward blushes and a few sudden comments, this episode is the first time we see Luz having similar feelings about Amity, with friends poking fun at how she simply wants to borrow a library card to see her, recognising the blatantly obvious two-way crush going on between the two girls. I couldn’t imagine homosexuality being discussed so casually in a show like this when I was growing up, and it seems the animation industry is finally welcoming creatives like Dana Terrace and Molly Ostertag who are willing to champion characters and narratives that aren’t afraid to be queer, and to show younger viewers that slowly stepping out of the closet isn’t something to be feared. It’s hard, but it’s a challenge that when persevered can lead to countless rewards. Luz and Amity are just small pieces of the wider puzzle.

The Owl House
Credit: Disney

This episode’s final scene is the culmination of a queer journey, yet also the first steps on a longer pilgrimage of discovery and self-acceptance that these two characters are set to embark upon. To repay Amity, Luz decides to venture through the library to complete trials, do battle with magical dragons, and risk her life countless times just to get her friend’s library card back. All of these shenanigans occur off-screen, but that doesn’t matter, since the meaning shines through. That, and a far more important scene unfolds in the interim.

As her older twin siblings brush her hair and ask if she wishes to dye it back to the oppressive mint-green her mother often requests, Amity displays a rare moment of vulnerability. She comes out of the closet, telling her family that she’s feeling things she’s never felt before and something needs to be done about it. Once again, much of the discussion happens off-screen, but it’s abstract enough for young viewers to draw their own conclusions and perfectly understand that Amity is finally accepting herself, turning over a new leaf as some of the people who mean the most to her in the world express not only acceptance, but support for her to rock outside and turn her crush into a girlfriend.

She greets Luz with lilac hair, a new look that represents her queer identity and a willingness to go against the expectations she’s spent years being defined by. Lilac is often a symbolic representation of one’s first love, likely a deliberate move on the creator’s part to show that Amity is now in full control of her feelings, usurping parental pressure and carving a future that is all her own. Luz is awestruck, a mess of playful blushes as the dialogue outlines a handful of plot revelations I won’t get into here - what really matters is the super magical gay stuff that happens afterwards.

In the episode’s closing moments, Amity glances down at her battered and broken library card and stares at her old self - a bossy, green-haired witch who was too afraid to be herself. That isn’t her anymore, so she takes one last look at Luz and says, “Don’t worry, you always have a way of sneaking into people’s hearts” before planting a gentle kiss on Luz’s cheek. It’s a loving, unexpected moment that shocked me, mostly because Disney is cementing its dedication to queer rep instead of once again relegating it to the background. This scene will mean something to so many people, and is likely only the beginning for a show that will continue to scream its queer intentions from the rooftops.

These witches gay, good for them.

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