Why Merida and her Mom Are Still the Most Relatable Pair in Animation

Why Merida and her Mom Are Still the Most Relatable Pair in Animation

Disney movies usually kill off the parents. It’s a trope so old it’s basically a requirement. But Pixar’s Brave did something different. It kept Queen Elinor alive. It kept her center stage. The whole movie isn't really about a magic spell or a giant bear, honestly. It’s about the suffocating, messy, beautiful, and sometimes violent friction between Merida and her mom.

If you’ve ever sat at a dinner table in stony silence while your parents critiqued your life choices, you get it.

The 2012 film broke the "Disney Princess" mold long before Frozen made sisterhood the trend. It focused on a mother-daughter dynamic that felt painfully real. Most of us don't turn our moms into bears (usually), but the emotional stakes in Brave feel higher than any dragon fight. It’s a story about the failure to listen.

The Expectations Trap

Queen Elinor is a perfectionist. She’s the glue holding the Scottish clans together. In her mind, she isn't being a villain; she’s being a protector. She wants Merida to be a "lady" because, in that historical context, a lady survives. A lady leads. A lady keeps the peace.

Merida? She just wants to shoot her bow and let her hair fly in the wind.

The conflict between Merida and her mom starts with that classic generational divide. Merida sees her mother’s traditions as a cage. Elinor sees Merida’s rebellion as a threat to the kingdom's safety. It’s a stalemate. This isn't a case of good vs. evil. It’s two people who love each other but don’t actually like each other very much in the moment.

📖 Related: Break It Off PinkPantheress: How a 90-Second Garage Flip Changed Everything

Brenda Chapman, the original director, based the story on her own relationship with her daughter. You can feel that authenticity in every "I'm not listening" eye roll Merida gives. It’s not a polished, fairy-tale conflict. It’s raw.

Breaking the Silence

The "Turning into a Bear" thing is a bit on the nose, sure. But look at what it forces them to do. Once Elinor loses her ability to speak, the dynamic shifts. For the first time, she has to observe. She has to see the world through Merida’s eyes—literally, as they trek through the wild Highlands.

And Merida has to step up. She has to protect the very woman who has spent years trying to control her.

There’s this specific scene by the river. Elinor, as a bear, tries to catch a fish. She’s failing. She’s clumsy. She’s out of her element. Merida laughs, but then she teaches her. It’s a role reversal that many of us experience as we get older and realize our parents are just... people. They’re flawed. They’re capable of being scared. Seeing your mom as a person—not just an authority figure—is a core part of growing up. It’s the exact moment their relationship starts to heal.

Why the "Marriage" Plot Matters

People often complain that Brave is just about Merida not wanting to get married. That’s a shallow take.

👉 See also: Bob Hearts Abishola Season 4 Explained: The Move That Changed Everything

The marriage isn't the point. The point is autonomy. When Elinor forces the three lords to bring their sons to compete for Merida's hand, she is essentially saying that Merida's future is a bargaining chip for political stability.

Merida’s "I’ll be shooting for my own hand" line is iconic for a reason. She’s not just rejecting the suitors. She’s rejecting her mother’s vision of her. When we talk about Merida and her mom, we’re talking about the painful process of a child carving out an identity that is separate from their parent’s expectations.

The Reality of Forgiveness

Most movies end with a big apology and everything is perfect. Brave is a bit more nuanced. Even after Elinor turns back into a human, the scars are there. They’ve both said things they can’t take back. They’ve both hurt each other.

But they’ve learned to compromise.

The tapestry Merida mends is the ultimate metaphor. It’s a literal piece of family history that she ripped in a fit of rage. Mending it doesn't make the rip disappear. You can still see the seam. That’s how real-life relationships work. You fix the tear, but the memory of the conflict stays. It becomes part of the pattern.

✨ Don't miss: Black Bear by Andrew Belle: Why This Song Still Hits So Hard

The Complexity of Elinor

We often focus on Merida because she’s the "hero," but Elinor is arguably the more complex character. She carries the weight of a queen. She has to manage King Fergus—who is basically a giant, loud child—and keep the peace between warring clans. Her rigidity comes from a place of immense pressure.

When she finally lets her hair down (again, literally) at the end of the movie, it’s a sign that she’s finally allowed herself to breathe. She realized that her daughter’s happiness is more important than the "perfection" of the kingdom.

A Cultural Shift in Animation

Before this movie, Disney moms were usually either dead, evil stepmothers, or background characters who baked pies. Elinor was a co-protagonist. She had an arc. She changed.

This paved the way for movies like Turning Red and Encanto. You can see the DNA of Merida and her mom in Mei and Ming, or Mirabel and Abuela. It started a conversation about generational trauma and the specific pressure put on eldest daughters.

Brave showed us that the "happily ever after" doesn't have to be a wedding. It can just be a mother and daughter riding through the woods, finally understanding each other.


Actionable Insights for Improving Family Dynamics

Reflecting on the relationship between Merida and her mom offers more than just entertainment; it provides a blueprint for navigating real-world friction.

  • Practice Active Observation: Like Elinor in bear form, try "turning off" your voice during a conflict. Observe the other person’s perspective without the need to immediately correct or direct them.
  • Identify the "Tapestry" Issues: Recognize the core values or events that have caused a "rip" in the relationship. Acknowledge that "mending" doesn't mean forgetting; it means integrating the conflict into a stronger shared history.
  • Separate Safety from Control: For parents, it is vital to distinguish between rules meant for a child's safety and rules meant to control their identity. Merida’s archery wasn't dangerous; it was just "unladylike."
  • Embrace the Role Reversal: Allow for moments where the "child" (even an adult one) takes the lead. Teaching a parent a new skill or perspective fosters mutual respect and breaks down rigid hierarchies.
  • Value the "Seam": Don't aim for a perfect, conflict-free relationship. Aim for a resilient one. The goal is to be able to disagree without devaluing the bond.

The most important takeaway from the Highlands is that communication isn't just about talking. It's about listening well enough to change your mind.