Why do we force “princess-mania” on our daughters?
My daughter’s head was still smeared with blood and vernix when she was given her first tiara.
I dismissed it as a harmless gesture, still giddy on the hormonal high that often comes in those first moments with a newborn.
But on our third day in hospital the glint of that plastic bling began to irritate me.
And it wasn’t just the tiara.
As I surveyed the room I counted no less than a dozen princess-themed products.
Clothes, books, dolls, even my daughter’s Huggies were plastered with images of Cinderella, Belle and a red-headed Disney damsel I couldn’t identify.
The pièce de résistance was a bubblegum-pink ‘princess’ sign my mother-in-law bought to hang on my daughter’s wall – just to really cement her identity for her.
As I surveyed our room in the birthing wing I vowed to bring more diversity into my baby’s life.
If my daughter wanted to like princesses it would be her choice, not an expectation imposed upon her before she could even speak.
All I had to do was wait until we re-entered the real world where I didn’t need to feign gratitude in the face of craptastic gifts.
Our first proper journey out of the house should’ve been mundane. It was just a trip to a shopping mall, designed to fill in time between naps and nappies.
I had a list of odds and ends to pick up for the nursery, including a few books.