Stop listening to people who never even dared to make their dreams a reality and stop listening to people who are crying over sour grapes over the fact that they weren't able to succeed in their dreams so you must not succeed either type of people.
My granddaughters have been exposed to many modern princesses who have courage and decide their own fate: Merida from Brave, Rapunzel from Tangled and Elsa from Frozen. They have plenty of courage. But kindness? Not so much.
I'm an adult now. A full-fledged mom. And yesterday, as my son napped and I watched the end of Aladdin (Disney Channel was already on, so sue me)... I had to wonder: What is up with that "happy ending"?
Hey Guys! If your toddler is like mine, she loves unboxing even more than Sofia the First. Specifically, she loves Disney Collector, that Play-Doh mushing, Magic Clip doll-worshiping enigma wrapped in an immaculate Hello Kitty manicure that is taking YouTube by storm.
I want to be wary of making her embarrassed or ashamed of what she likes, especially if it seems girly. Because misogyny gets internalized. Because fantasy is the one game in which we all have autonomy. Because that unembarrassed power is a thing I want to preserve for my daughter.
I mean, who doesn't want to try new things? The question is, however, do I want to do all of them again? The true merit lies in the willingness to try barbecued chicken testicles, not the eating of them every night. That's just weird.
Some little girl told her father she wanted to be Cinderella, and her dad took her seriously, went out and claimed unchartered territory in Africa, and is now saying that his daughter is a f*cking princess. I'm 100% not kidding.
The word "princess" has evolved in the past few years. Characters are now depicted as capable and kind. There is a relatable, qualitative substance. They are less ethereal and more capable. The princesses of today are depicted with a breath of vibrant life as well as a happy ending.
My earliest memory is being asked, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" Without hesitation, I answered, "Princess," with a capital P. This had everything to do with wanting people to do my bidding and nothing to do with wanting a pink dress.