[Spoilers ahead]

The ending to season 3 of The Legend of Korra is beautiful. For those of you who have not watched the show, The Legend of Korra is the sequel to Avatar: The Last Airbender. It follows the growth of Korra, a headstrong, brash, and arrogant teenager who has been cooped up all her life training to be the avatar. She starts the show bright-eyed and bushy tailed, believing she is destined for greatness much like her predecessor. She is forced to grow and mature when successive adversaries question her place in the world, believing it is better off without her. They each try to take away her power (so central to her identity) or eliminate her existence from the world.

Each villain represented a form of imbalance. Aman in season 1 claimed he wanted equality and justice, when he was in fact seeking to consolidate power within his own hands by removing power from others. Unalaq in season 2 claimed to prioritise spirituality, but wanted to gain worldly power for himself to spread a darker spirituality in the form of Vaatu. Korra was able to bounce back from each of these encounters with spurts of growth, getting in touch with her spirituality in season 1 and being forced to forge her own path onwards in season 2 once she lost touch with her past lives.

It was when Zaheer poisons her‌ and nearly ends her life, however, that she cracks under the pressure. She remains in a weakened state, requiring a wheelchair to mobilise and is clearly mentally broken. Her friends and family were the only ones who could save her. The situation was completely out of her control. When she gets to Jinora’s ceremony, celebrating her newfound leadership of the airbenders, she is proud of what her friend has achieved. Despite this, she clearly feels this reinforces the message that her adversaries have repeatedly stated – she is not needed. She was not, in fact, destined for greatness. The music in the scene is stunning and I highly recommend giving a listen to Samuel Kim’s Service and Sacrifice.

It made me reflect on my sense of identity. Similarly to Korra, I grew up isolated with talents I wanted to use to find my place in the world. I had a need to be needed. I structured my life to one of service and sacrifice within the NHS, placing the needs of others above my own consistently throughout my professional life. This also extended to my personal life. Unfortunately, this left my sense of self vulnerable to the expectations and views of others. When control was completely wrested from me during the pandemic, things came to a head, and I broke psychologically. For the first time, I took time to look after myself, realising I was, in fact, not needed. The time had come to learn that infinite sacrifice is unsustainable, unbalanced, perhaps even selfish.

Caring for others can be a valuable trait and a tendency towards selflessness admirable as long as it is boundaried. It has taken my own journey through PTSD to learn these lessons as Korra had to do in season 4, aptly named balance. You cannot serve others without serving yourself first.