Lilo and Stitch is the movie 2025 needs
And why we all need to remember we're one family
Ohana means Family.
In 2002, Disney released Lilo and Stitch, a story that was, at its core, about the messiness of family. It wasn’t about princesses or castles; it was about two sisters, left to fend for themselves, navigating the complex terrain of loss, love, and an alien with a penchant for destruction.
But what made Lilo and Stitch truly remarkable wasn’t just the charm of Stitch or the humor of Elvis montages—it was how deeply the story resonated with audiences who rarely saw themselves on screen.
A Reddit post, now three years old but timeless in its sentiment, captured this beautifully.
The writer shared, reflecting on the hammock scene with Nani and Lilo. It wasn’t just about representation in the literal sense; it was about emotional representation—the sense that someone had taken their reality, messy and unfiltered, and turned it into something beautiful.
This resonance is something the world seems to be forgetting. With business, Governments and individuals pulling back their diversity and inclusion initiatives and morales, signalling a retreat from the commitment to reflect the real, complex lives of humans. It’s a stark contrast to the world Lilo and Stitch created—a world that didn’t just entertain but validated its audience’s existence.
Children, perhaps more than anyone, are acutely aware of what it feels like to be seen—or not. They search for themselves in the stories they consume, in the games they play, and in the platforms they use. When they don’t find themselves, the absence is glaring. Lilo and Stitch succeeded because it didn’t just tell a story; it told their story. It captured unconventional families, struggles with identity, and the chaos of love in ways that felt raw and honest.
Psychologists and developmental researchers often highlight the importance of social mirroring—children learn about themselves and their place in the world through the reflections they see in others. When they engage with characters who look, act, or feel like them, it fosters a sense of connection and safety. This engagement deepens emotional investment, making children more likely to love and return to a show. Stories that reflect their reality validate their experiences, nurturing both self-esteem and empathy in powerful ways.
Psychologists and developmental researchers often highlight the importance of social mirroring—children learn about themselves and their place in the world through the reflections they see in others. When they engage with characters who look, act, or feel like them, it fosters a sense of connection and safety. This engagement deepens emotional investment, making children more likely to love and return to a show. Stories that reflect their reality validate their experiences, nurturing both self-esteem and empathy in powerful ways.
The upcoming Lilo and Stitch movie faces a daunting task: to remain relevant in a world that’s become increasingly fragmented. Children today are growing up in a media landscape that offers more options but fewer commitments to authenticity. To succeed, this sequel must do what the original did so effortlessly—embrace the diversity of experience, not as a checkbox, but as a cornerstone of its storytelling.
Representation isn’t just about who’s on screen; it’s about who feels seen. And when we make people feel seen—whether through a story about a little girl, her sister, and a mischievous alien, or through the platforms we build—we create something far more enduring than a product. We create belonging. That, perhaps, is the lesson of Lilo and Stitch.
Ohana means family, and family, at its heart, means everyone belongs. And world could do with reminding we are all part of the same family
Warm up with the best Disney song of all time