A Hope for My Daughter

August 17, 2011

Yesterday, while Violet was napping, I sat on the porch and read Naomi Riley’s astute review of a new book titled Cinderella Ate My Daughter by Peggy Orenstein.  The review stood out to me because Violet’s arrival has me questioning the proliferation of all things princess.  As I read Riley’s review, my own feelings about princesses began to clarify.  I do not remember wanting to be a princess as a little girl.  Once, I dressed up like queen Esther, but mostly because I thought she was awesome and smart.  No one in my family called me princess or treated me like one, for which I should probably remember to thank them.  I hope that no one ever treats Violet that way, either.  But this is not to say that I want to ban fairy tales or femininity at our house. 

Princesses are indulged, served, glorified, and often objectified.  My hope for Violet is that she reach beyond those things, to serve others instead of herself, to cultivate character and depth rather than just physical beauty, to glorify God rather than to be glorified.  Cartoon princesses live happily ever after, completed by Prince Charming and fancy dresses.  But the truth is that real love is hard work, and that it is super hard to clean a toilet (or cook dinner or read a book) in tulle and lace.  I want Violet to focus on the depth of true relationships, to know love that allows her to be all that she is, that helps her to become more than she dreamed. 

I know I cannot stop the princess train from stopping at my house, and that’s okay.  But I hope that when it comes, it brings along Julian of Norwich, Mother Theresa, Angela Merkel, Denise Levertov, Harper Lee, Georgia O’Keefe, and maybe even good old Queen Esther.

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