#dashboard tea

Let’s have a moment of absolute vulnerability on the dashboard today, folks. Put your hands up if you spent 2013 entirely convinced that a certain leather-jacket-wearing, crown-stealing unicorn from Canterlot High deserved nothing but immediate expulsion from the narrative. Yes, I am talking about Sunset Shimmer. At eight years old, I hated her guts. Today? She is my undisputed number one. Let’s talk about the finest redemption arc in modern animation history, and why our queer little hearts had no choice but to stan.

Let’s be entirely real for a second. When the first Equestria Girls dropped back in 2013, Sunset Shimmer was not an icon. She was an absolute menace. As an eight-year-old watching her play the part of the ultimate high school dictator, my hatred for her was pure, unadulterated, and entirely justified.

To this day, I cannot stand unreasonably domineering, cruel female characters who think they are God’s gift to the universe while acting like entitled, obnoxious brats. You know the exact archetype I am talking about. It’s the sheer, unearned arrogance of the Tweevils from Bratz. It’s the relentless, petty spite of the Trix, Mitzi, and Diaspro from Winx Club. It’s Mandy from Totally Spies making everyone’s life miserable for fun, Praxina from Lolirock, Kitten and Blackfire from the 2003 Teen Titans being absolute menaces, or Azula from Avatar pushing psychological warfare to its absolute limits. For years, western animation loved to give us these girls just so we could watch them fail.

So when Sunset Shimmer rolled up acting like the supreme ruler of Canterlot High, my brain grouped her right along with them. I thought, "Oh, great. Another one."

But then... Rainbow Rocks happened.

The sheer, unmatched narrative audacity of the Equestria Girls team to look at a literal demon-turned-bully and say, "We are going to make her the emotional spine of this entire franchise," remains one of the best moves in animation history. Through Rainbow Rocks, Friendship Games, and The Legend of Everfree, we watched a miracle happen. Sunset didn't just get a cheap, unearned "I'm sorry" moment. She earned her seat at the table. She became a heroine.

And look, as a lesbian on the asexual spectrum? My crush on her during this era was hitting the absolute stratosphere. The vibes were immaculate.

What makes Sunset so deeply compelling—and why she completely broke out of that "Mandy from Totally Spies" trap—is that the narrative allowed her to retain her edge. When fictional characters get redeemed, writers often strip away everything that made them interesting in the first place, turning them into passive, soft, boring versions of themselves. Not Sunset. She stayed fiery. She stayed clever, ambitious, spunky, and stubborn as hell. She kept her tough, serious, feisty attitude, but she repurposed it. Instead of using her sharp mind to tear people down, she used her empathy, dorkiness, and artistic soul to protect the people she loved. She became the mature, grounded anchor of the HuMane 7.

A massive, undisputed portion of this credit goes to the absolute queen Rebecca Shoichet.

Can we talk about the vocal direction for a minute? While the rest of the MLP universe is filled with beautifully stylized, high-pitched cartoon energy, Shoichet used her natural, grounded voice for Sunset. It gives the character an immediate sense of gravity. She sounds mature. She sounds wise, realistic, and profoundly human. It’s a soothing, addicting texture of voice that honestly makes you want an entire ASMR channel of just her reading a book or giving a pep talk.

And her singing voice? Absolute chills. Every single time. "My Past is Not Today" isn't just a song; it's a queer anthem of self-reclamation. It’s empowering, raw, and gorgeous.

In fact, let’s put this out into the universe right now: Rebecca Shoichet has the exact smoky, empathetic, deeply grounded vocal texture that would make her an incredible voice replacement for characters who carry that same "tough exterior, massive heart" energy. Think Esmeralda from Disney's The Hunchback of Notre Dame. Think Mary Jane Watson from Spectacular Spider-Man. She has that specific theatrical grit.