I wasn't always a Lord of the Rings fan. Back in the day, my allegiance was firmly with the galaxy far, far away—I mean, I was 7 years old when I watched "Return of the Jedi" in theaters, and from that moment on, I was obsessed. But then the prequels happened, and something changed. It dawned on me that Star Wars had become something else—it was now aimed at the next wave of 7-year-olds, and it didn't quite hit the same for me anymore.
But as one love was fading, a new one was just beginning. Around the turn of the century, a different trilogy emerged—one that spoke to me on a deeper level. The Lord of the Rings films were everything I needed at that point in my life: mature, epic, and timeless. I remember sitting in the theater, awestruck by Middle-earth. I watched the theatrical releases, then dove into the extended versions, and soon found myself reading Tolkien's books, soaking in the entire mythology and history of this magical world.
