I Think I’m Lux (And Maybe You Are Too): A Doctor Who Epiphany, a Cartoon Shell, and the Unfolding of Something Bigger

Doctor Who Season 14 Spoiler alert!! (But also not really. Because if you’ve ever outgrown an old version of yourself, this post will probably feel familiar.)

Varada Sethu and Ncuti Gatwa as Belinda and The Doctor. Image courtesy of BBC Studios/Bad Wolf.

So here I am, streaming the new season of Doctor Who with a wonderfully nerdy friend, munching on my Balanced Break like it’s a gourmet existential snack, and BAM—we land in 1950s Miami. There’s jazz. There’s joy. There’s creeping dread. You know, classic time travel ambiance.

Enter: Miss Belinda Chandra. (Love her. ) And enter… something else.

A god, apparently. A being of pure light. But—get this—trapped inside a cartoon. A literal cartoon. Two-dimensional, grinning, exaggerated, flickering at the edges like old animation film. A “menace,” sure. But not in the way you'd expect.

And the Doctor, of course, knows something’s off. Because he's the Doctor, and because it always is.

By the time we figure out what’s really happening—that this thing isn’t evil, it’s just constrained—and I’m not breathing normally anymore. I’m feeling it.

Lux. The god of light. Reduced to spectacle. A caricature of his real self. Until the truth hits.

He’s not dangerous. He’s remembering.

And when the sun finally rises, Lux merges with it—his full form illuminated, limitless, free. And I’m just sitting there on my couch like:

Oh my word. I think I’m Lux.

I’ve Been the Cartoon Version of Myself

Mr. Ring-a-Ding, aka Lux, aka Meridith Beta. Image courtesy of BBC Studios / Bad Wolf

Trying to smile just wide enough. Talk light enough. Shrink just enough. Perform just right. I’ve been two-dimensional, flickering at the edges, living inside a version of myself that could be digested, hired, accepted, or at least tolerated.

But somewhere deep down, I knew the cartoon wasn’t all there was. It was what I became when the world wasn’t ready for the sun.

The Truth is Bigger

The truth is: I’m not here to be palatable. I’m here to be true.

To remember what I am when I’m not playing a role.To light up—not burn out.

And no, I don’t think I’m actually a god of light (though if anyone wants to start a cult of weirdly comforting educational nerdery, hit me up).

I just… relate.

To the part of Lux that almost forgot. To the fear that if I expanded, I’d destroy everything. To the ache of being stuck in a form that isn’t you, but has always kept you safe.

But We’re Not Stuck Anymore

We’re not cartoons. We’re not broken. We’re not too much.

We’re just waking up. And it’s scary. And disorienting. And it might make you want to crawl back into your two-dimensional shell.

But you don’t have to.

The sun is rising. And you are remembering.

PS:  If you’re still in cartoon mode, that’s okay. We all are sometimes. The point isn’t to shame the mask—it protected you. The point is just to notice when you’re ready to take it off.

And maybe—just maybe—step into your light.