My six year old goddaughter wants to be a 'princess'. She wants a fancy hairstyle, a magic wand (that's a fairy, isn't it?), a castle, a tiara, gold slippers and she needs a 'princess' dress in order to be a princess. Fair. A little prodding into her concept of 'princessification' will release from her mouth a flowery description of a surprisingly detailed imaginary life as a princess and tellingly appropriate for her age, an absentee prince (typical). My goddaughter lives in a fairyland only she can access; a place where amazing things are possible, animals talk sense, magical transformations of everyday objects occur and...it makes me uncomfortable because we're not royalty. Not even close.
(Insert: Mercy Academy, Louisville, Kentucky USA, advertising campaign 2013)
In 1990, Collette Dowling published a book 'The Cinderella Complex' which lifted a hatch in female psychology by postulating the 'fear of independence' (emotional / financial or make your choice) is the result of a maladaptive psychological cognitive process. Essentially, instead of taking responsibility for their own lives and decisions, women want to be 'saved' by a man or their communities (some women, I have to add, only some women).
In the well-known, televised, digitised, print overkill, advertised ad nauseum fairy tale, Cinderella is a hardworking, passive-aggressive, self-pitying, unassertive pretty girl who suffers at the hands of her evil stepmother and step-sisters (physically unattractive women to add fuel to the indignant fire). The best deus ex machina penned to date sees Cinderella magically transformed into a princess by a kindly fairy godmother and saved thereafter from her miserable existence by 'the prince' (aha!).
(Insert: Mercy Academy, advertising campaign 2013, 'Be more than just the fairest of them all')
After that conspicuous book, written while Dowling probably battled her own demons, a spate of printed material ensued each identifying a variety of causes and contributing factors to explain away this latest malaise of the female psyche, and needless to say, numerous readily available culprits were hastily pushed into the line-up / identification parade to traipse about as scapegoats for the state of affairs, most notably 'the media'.
By the time Paul Elam furiously typed up 'The Top 10 Reasons Why Men Should Avoid Princesses', an article that reads almost wretchedly, the outpourings of a heart that's embittered, a cup overflowing with self-pity and a mouth frothing at the detritus of relationships gone sour (Was it a 'princess'? Who would have guessed...), it was evident a 'princess' was no longer a 'favourable' association but had morphed into someone like female villain Black Mamba (Tanya Sealy); a gross exaggeration I have to add. Read Elam's insightful article: http://www.shrink4men.com/2012/03/27/the-top-10-reasons-why-men-should-avoid-princesses/
In April 2012, Jennifer L. Hartstein, a child, adolescent and family psychologist, wrote 'Princess Recovery' in which she claimed the 'Princess Syndrome (PS)' is more prevalent than people care to admit. 'A girl who suffers from PS lives life as a fairy-tale: focusing only on the pretty things, putting herself at the center of the universe, and obsessing about her looks (even if she’s only headed to the playground). While this can be fun and whimsical when a girl is a toddler, it can set the tone for how she develops into a young woman, influencing her self-esteem, her dependence on others, how she takes care of herself and how empowered she feels in her life.'
(Insert: Mercy Academy, advertising campaign 2013, 'Be able to rescue yourself')
In one of the more remarkable notations in her article: http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/princess-recovery/201204/combating-princess-syndrome , Hartstein advises parents (mothers in particular) to teach their young daughters to dress appropriately and instead of promoting / focusing on her appearance (you look so pretty!), to rather encourage female children to participate in discussions and exchange ideas (irrespective the subject at hand).
My task, as you can imagine, is herculean. My goddaughter's sweet, doting parents are so taken with her, they worship the ground she hasn't yet stepped on. They fall over themselves to do things the little penguin hasn't squawked for. They buzz about her, fretting and worried if she's fine while 'princess' sits quietly on her imaginary throne, sipping a strawberry milkshake, seemingly very used to the fuss. She's not allowed out of sight, has the best entertainment for her age group, her own pink bedroom, a collection of 'princess' literature (fairy tale omnibus), DVDs, toys and apparel, her diet constantly changing as the latest best thing recommended to keep her happy and healthy is raved at over breakfast.
(Insert: Princess Tiana, Disney's first African princess)
What am I to do? At the moment, whenever she visits (I'm a designated safe haven), we stroll about the garden, look and discuss plants, a pet or the weather. She's always shy to talk at first, especially when confronted by an actual plant, will thaw slowly and not long thereafter her mind zips crazily in every direction, bouncing brightly off the walls, her voice becomes louder and fills with confidence, her eyes light up as fact and fable tumble out in a shower of startlingly sharp pinpoints of intelligence, keen observation, accompanied by a barrage of questions that would leave even the Prosecutor General speechless.
We're not royalty and this is not a fairy tale.
(Insert: Mercy Academy, Louisville, Kentucky USA, advertising campaign 2013)
In 1990, Collette Dowling published a book 'The Cinderella Complex' which lifted a hatch in female psychology by postulating the 'fear of independence' (emotional / financial or make your choice) is the result of a maladaptive psychological cognitive process. Essentially, instead of taking responsibility for their own lives and decisions, women want to be 'saved' by a man or their communities (some women, I have to add, only some women).
In the well-known, televised, digitised, print overkill, advertised ad nauseum fairy tale, Cinderella is a hardworking, passive-aggressive, self-pitying, unassertive pretty girl who suffers at the hands of her evil stepmother and step-sisters (physically unattractive women to add fuel to the indignant fire). The best deus ex machina penned to date sees Cinderella magically transformed into a princess by a kindly fairy godmother and saved thereafter from her miserable existence by 'the prince' (aha!).
(Insert: Mercy Academy, advertising campaign 2013, 'Be more than just the fairest of them all')
By the time Paul Elam furiously typed up 'The Top 10 Reasons Why Men Should Avoid Princesses', an article that reads almost wretchedly, the outpourings of a heart that's embittered, a cup overflowing with self-pity and a mouth frothing at the detritus of relationships gone sour (Was it a 'princess'? Who would have guessed...), it was evident a 'princess' was no longer a 'favourable' association but had morphed into someone like female villain Black Mamba (Tanya Sealy); a gross exaggeration I have to add. Read Elam's insightful article: http://www.shrink4men.com/2012/03/27/the-top-10-reasons-why-men-should-avoid-princesses/
In April 2012, Jennifer L. Hartstein, a child, adolescent and family psychologist, wrote 'Princess Recovery' in which she claimed the 'Princess Syndrome (PS)' is more prevalent than people care to admit. 'A girl who suffers from PS lives life as a fairy-tale: focusing only on the pretty things, putting herself at the center of the universe, and obsessing about her looks (even if she’s only headed to the playground). While this can be fun and whimsical when a girl is a toddler, it can set the tone for how she develops into a young woman, influencing her self-esteem, her dependence on others, how she takes care of herself and how empowered she feels in her life.'
(Insert: Mercy Academy, advertising campaign 2013, 'Be able to rescue yourself')
In one of the more remarkable notations in her article: http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/princess-recovery/201204/combating-princess-syndrome , Hartstein advises parents (mothers in particular) to teach their young daughters to dress appropriately and instead of promoting / focusing on her appearance (you look so pretty!), to rather encourage female children to participate in discussions and exchange ideas (irrespective the subject at hand).
My task, as you can imagine, is herculean. My goddaughter's sweet, doting parents are so taken with her, they worship the ground she hasn't yet stepped on. They fall over themselves to do things the little penguin hasn't squawked for. They buzz about her, fretting and worried if she's fine while 'princess' sits quietly on her imaginary throne, sipping a strawberry milkshake, seemingly very used to the fuss. She's not allowed out of sight, has the best entertainment for her age group, her own pink bedroom, a collection of 'princess' literature (fairy tale omnibus), DVDs, toys and apparel, her diet constantly changing as the latest best thing recommended to keep her happy and healthy is raved at over breakfast.
(Insert: Princess Tiana, Disney's first African princess)
What am I to do? At the moment, whenever she visits (I'm a designated safe haven), we stroll about the garden, look and discuss plants, a pet or the weather. She's always shy to talk at first, especially when confronted by an actual plant, will thaw slowly and not long thereafter her mind zips crazily in every direction, bouncing brightly off the walls, her voice becomes louder and fills with confidence, her eyes light up as fact and fable tumble out in a shower of startlingly sharp pinpoints of intelligence, keen observation, accompanied by a barrage of questions that would leave even the Prosecutor General speechless.
We're not royalty and this is not a fairy tale.
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