How I Was a Princess

It’s summertime, and once again I see too many girls out there dressed as princesses. I can’t help but think that these girls are doomed to grow up more vulnerable and insecure than they otherwise would because
 we teach them to place too much emphasis on their looks, – a risky asset that tends to deteriorate with time, – vs. giving priority to their character, hard work, and achievements.
Some girls do resist being turned into “cuties” and I applaud them; some, like me, get lucky to avoid the trap. In sharing my personal princess’ experience I chose to be humorous. But I know you’ll get the point.

I was a princess exactly two times. And failed on both occasions.

For the first time, I felt an impulse to be a princess when I was about 4. It happened so suddenly that I didn’t have time to think about my new me carefully. I put on whatever I could find in my (and my mom’s) wardrobe that looked like princess’ dresses. Then I took my mom’s lipstick and applied some on my lips and my cheeks. After all the efforts invested into creating a new pretty me, I thought I looked awesome. Like a real princess. But my older brother who was 5 and a half at that time, laughed at me and said that I looked stupid. Now, if you want to remember only one thing from this story, it’s that you never want to look stupid, even when you are only 4. So I gave up my royal beauty, washed my face, and became my brother’s Chief General instead. That day we covered ourselves with glory. We led an army of brave soldiers to fight an unassailable fortress where lived the almighty evil wizard Tchushhh. It was a heroic battle and glorious victory! Even though my dad punished me later for the unauthorized access to my mom’s clothes and makeup, I felt achieved and accomplished that day.

The second time that I was a princess, a neighbor’s boy visited us for a play day. We pretended to be characters in a fairy tale where a brave prince had to rescue a beautiful princess from the almighty evil wizard Tchushhh II. So I dressed in what looked like a princess’ dress to me, positioned myself in a corner of the room that was serving as my prison, and set on waiting to be rescued trying to look if not beautiful then at least as attractive as I could. And in such manner the game started: I was sitting, looking attractive, and waiting while the brave prince and the almighty evil wizard were fighting. They were fighting and fighting. And fighting and fighting. And I was sitting, looking attractive, and waiting. Sitting, looking attractive, and waiting. Then our parents came home, and my brave prince had to go home too which he did shouting “Bye!” at the door. And he never rescued me. What’s more was that he didn’t even look disappointed. Nether did my brother, by the way. Actually none of them showed any regret for not rescuing the princess. On the contrary, both of them were very satisfied with the play day because they had all fun. I was six at that point and I told myself that never ever in my life would I be fooled into being a princess again. And I’m proud to report that I did as I said.

I also hoped that I would never in my life have to sit, look attractive, and wait. But alas. On many more occasions did I have to play this role.

The main lesson here is of course that to fight for something worthy even if you are called to go home in the middle of it is much more fun that to sit, look attractive, and wait. Actually everything is much more fun than that. Hopefully somebody will make a better use of this lesson.

Yours,

Elena Bakhtina

P.S. By the way, my daughter never wanted to be a princess. She started with being powerful witches right away. I want to believe it’s representative of her generation 🙂