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A while back, my friend Mary was telling me about a song that her daughter “was addicted to.” It was a song by a girl saying that she would do whatever she had to do to get her guy, including turning cartwheels. Mary speculated that the girls probably just liked the fun, whimsical melody and the catchy chorus, but that she really didn’t like the message contained within the song.
As we discussed it, I shared with her what I have done with my kids. Recently, she told me that she had taken my advice and found it helpful, so I thought I would share it here with you.
It turns out, if you completely deny a child her desire for something, whether it’s a toy gun or a princess dress, she will become obsessed by it. We tell a boy “no toy guns” hoping his desire will just fade away. Ironically, he just grows more and more obsessed with it. The desire doesn’t shrink, it expands, until it takes on the dimensions of a fetish.
Another friend once told me that a child whose parents had outlawed all toys in his house had come over to her house to play with her kids. He approached her, feverishly clutching a Matchbox car, and asked, “Can I have this?” She said, “Sure, you can play with it.” He shook his head and said, “No, can I have it?” When you’re starving, a crumb looks like a feast, and this child was starving.
That’s how it works: thwarted wanted only increases the wanting. When my daughter was 3 and 4, she desperately wanted Barbie dolls and princess dresses. At that time, I didn’t understand about thwarted wanting, I just wanted to protect my child from the barrage of large-breasted, impossibly narrow waisted, long hair, high heeled, painted nail, makeup wearing female images that abound on toy store shelves and movie screens. I thought that by isolating her from them, she wouldn’t know what she was missing and it wouldn’t matter.
It didn’t work out that way. She still saw the images and the toys, but because they were forbidden fruit, they took on a larger-than life halo.
Eventually, I realized I had to give ground somewhere, because she was developing a full scale obsession. So I decided that instead of buying a princess dress off the shelf – and thus endorsing what I so strongly opposed – I would make one. It was orange, with a large pink floral “poof” on each side. She loved that dress, and literally wore it every single day. I had to repair the shoulder seams, not once but twice! It was in that dress that “Bootiful” took place. And it was in that dress that I realized it wasn’t the dress that was the problem, it was the dialogue around it.
I figured out that if I didn’t talk to her about why I didn’t like the whole “princess” dialogue, she would have no other option but to absorb the one that was out there. Namely, that princesses are “bootiful and thas it.” (Princesses aren’t allowed to be smart, strong, brave, or solve their own problems.) So I decided to change tactics. I told my kids that I would let them watch a Barbie movie, but that they had to understand why I didn’t particularly like Barbie.
We sat down right there in the library and had a discussion about how all the “beautiful” characters on Barbie look pretty much the same, with a super skinny waist, long – usually blond – hair, and light skin. How they walked around on tiptoe all the time, with their arms held at an odd angle that caused them to walk funny. We talked about all the people we knew, and how NONE of them looked like what you’d see on Barbie, but yet, they were still beautiful. Then we watched it together, and they were able to see all the caricatures, taking great pleasure in pointing them out. My son developed a pretty hysterical imitation of the “Barbie walk”
The point is, once we deconstructed the Barbie movie, took it apart and looked at it piece by piece (in an age appropriate way, of course) the movie was no longer a threat, either to me, or to my kids.
This was what I suggested to my friend Mary: that she tell her kids, “You can listen to this song, but only after we talk about why I don’t like it.”
What’s to lose? At the very least, you might have a really good discussion!
One day, three-year-old Kaya put on her princess dress and coyly asked, “Mommy, am I bootiful?” Without thinking, I answered, “Yes, Kaya, of course you’re beautiful.”
It was the first of several similar scenarios. She would put something on, whether it was hair bows, necklaces, stick on earrings, or her beloved princess dress. Then she would find me and ask the same question, “Mommy, am I bootiful?” Awareness dawned slowly, but painfully. My daughter had acquired an unremitting fixation on beauty.
As a thoughtful, deliberate parent, I had tried to expand my daughter’s understanding of what it means to be feminine, I had (I thought) taught her about her non-physical attributes, like intelligence, courage, toughness, cleverness, even being a fast runner. Then I realized she only sought feedback about her physical attractiveness.
Even more disturbing was the need to put something on before asking if she was beautiful. One day Kaya spilled water on her princess dress and I told her to take it off. She got an anguished look on her face, and started a frustrated sort of running in place, whining “But I won’t be bootiful anymore!” It was apparent that Kaya believed “beauty” resided not in Kaya herself, but in her accessories.
I have worked hard to prevent Kaya from internalizing the images of unrealistically thin, perpetually beautiful women who are always nice and live only for their men (aka Disney Princesses and Barbie). But despite my efforts, I was faced with the fact that Kaya had already begun her indoctrination.
What to do?
One day, on a whim, I decided to try something different. When she asked me her usual “Mommy, am I bootiful?” I answered, “Yes, Kaya, you are beautiful. But you are also smart, clever, witty, assertive, strong, and powerful.” This was my attempt expand her identity beyond just her physical attributes. But Kaya’s whole demeanor instantly clouded over, and she responded, “No! I’m bootiful, and thas it!”
Needless to say, that wasn’t the response I was hoping for! But then again, it did confirm that I was on the right track. She had already recognized that girls are supposed to be – and desire to be – “beautiful and that’s it.”
That’s when it occurred to me that maybe she was asking not just for confirmation of her beauty, but for confirmation of her correct enactment of femininity. Maybe she wanted to show me that she knew how to “do” being a girl, correctly. I realized that in order to address her beauty fixation, I not only had to expand her understanding of how to be a girl, I also had to make her realize that I required that expanded definition of her in order to recognize her as correctly being a girl. This requirement would act like the “glue” I needed to make the new definitions “stick.” I did this by making my affirmation of her beauty contingent on her acceptance of “the whole package” I was laying before her. The next exchange went like this:
KAYA. Am I bootiful and thas it?
MOM. You’re beautiful and smart too.
KAYA. No. I’m a princess. I’m just bootiful and thas it.
MOM. Princesses can be beautiful and smart too, can’t they?
KAYA. No.
By rejecting my expanded definition of feminine identity, Kaya was saying that she knew the correct way for princesses to be, and clearly I didn’t. It would have been cute, if I hadn’t found it so disturbing.
Five minutes later, Kaya again sought me out. Apparently, our previous exchange had left her feeling unsatisfied.
KAYA. Am I bootiful?
MOM. That depends. Are you smart?
KAYA. Yeah
MOM. Then you’re beautiful too.
This must have still been problematic for her, because five minutes after that, she approached me again, but this time, my message had gotten through.
KAYA. Am I beautiful and smart?
MOM. Yes!!
Her persistence in asking the same question different ways to try to win back my approval confirmed for me that Kaya wanted to enact femininity “properly.” Months later, we still have exchanges like these, but now they are more of a game. It usually goes like this: Kaya approaches me with a big grin on her face and asks:
KAYA. Mommy, am I bootiful?
MOM. Yes, and what else?
KAYA. Smart!
MOM. And?
KAYA. Clever!
MOM. Annnd?
KAYA. Strong!
MOM. Annnnnnnnd?
KAYA. Powerful!
MOM. Great job! Gimme five!
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CODA: The preceding is an excerpt from my master’s thesis, written in 2005. My daughter is now seven, and we’ve continued to work hard reinforcing her many fine qualities, and searching for strong role models in movies, books, and TV programs. We especially love the Japanese anime from Studio Ghibli, including My Neighbor Totoro and Spirited Away. They’re completely off-beat and have fabulous female characters.
So how’s it going these days? Well, the other day, out of the blue, Kaya told me she really liked a character called Nausica. I asked her why. She said, “Because she’s brave and smart, like me.”
No victory ever tasted sweeter!
