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The level of shock that washes across someone鈥檚 face made me keep pretty quiet about the fact that I somehow managed to grow up without ever seeing a Star Wars film.

Shameful, isn鈥檛 it?

The first time I realized there was something patently missing from my childhood, I was elbow-deep in papier m芒ch茅, sculpting a mask at summer art camp.

While I podged together something resembling a human head, the eldest camper sat across from me, molding horns to the top of his mask and crafting crevices into its facade.

By the time it dried and we had broken out the paint, a crowd of kids had swarmed him saying, 鈥淚t looks just like him.鈥�

Was I supposed to know who him was? To me, the mask just looked like a creature whose face was blistering with blood and ornate scabs, but to everyone else it was Darth Maul, a scheming Sith lord from a series I鈥檇 never seen. My confusion had officially made me 鈥渢he girl who had never seen Star Wars鈥� and, for days, I was teased and relentlessly questioned about why.

I chalked it up to the first episode debuting 15 years before I was born and not having brothers to force me to watch the films or an interest in science fiction. There were far more important things for a school-aged girl to worry about, like whether Backstreet Boy Nick Carter was single or what happened on that episode of Sabrina the Teenage Witch that I missed.

In time, I learned it was easy enough to fake knowing all about Star Wars, since so much of it has become ingrained in our pop culture.

TV commercials used John Williams鈥� memorable theme music, toy aisles and kids鈥� meals were rife with miniature Yodas and Luke Skywalkers, and Halloween meant a schoolyard full of Darth Vaders and Imperial Stormtroopers.

Even the biggest reveal, Luke鈥檚 connection to Darth Vader, was spoiled 鈥� thanks to that famous quote 鈥� long before this fall, when an editor who knew my secret convinced me it was time to watch the series.

I went into the six films with high expectations. This is a blockbuster series with a cult audience that has overanalyzed just about every millisecond of George Lucas鈥檚 work, getting wrapped up in conspiracy theories and fiercely angry at episodes that don鈥檛 live up to the original trilogy鈥檚 glory.

Most told me I鈥檇 love the older episodes. Some called the prequels 鈥渢errible鈥� while others advised me to skip them all together.

So what did I think?

After more than a dozen hours, the Force is now strong with this viewer and I鈥檒l probably head to the theatre to watch the forthcoming seventh episode, The Force Awakens, out Dec. 18, but you knew that already.

I admit it got off to a rocky start.

Audiences in 1977 must have been impressed with Lucas鈥檚 digital motion control photography, but I was watching the series in an age where computer-generated effects and digital cinema are rampant, so it took a bit more than out-of-this-world visuals to win me over.

While I found the plots of A New Hope and The Empire Strikes Back a bit slow to really get excited over, I considered myself a fan after Return of the Jedi.

And though most had suggested setting the bar low for the prequels, I found that my attention didn鈥檛 wane when a tow-haired Anakin Skywalker managed to tug on my heartstrings and make me feel invested in a series I was skeptical I鈥檇 ever like.

That鈥檚 why I was crestfallen when Attack of the Clones turned out to be a disaster of a film, but elated when I was left sitting on the edge of my seat for most of Revenge of the Sith.

By the end of that movie, when the infants Luke and Leia are being held in the arms of adoptive parents wistfully looking out into the sunset, I was disappointed I鈥檇 have to wait weeks for the next one, but relieved I鈥檇 finally shed my title as 鈥渢he girl who had never seen Star Wars.鈥�

It鈥檚 just a good thing those campers who teased me didn鈥檛 find out I鈥檝e also never watched Star Trek.