How Barbie Almost Destroyed Me
I want to tell you a story. It goes a little something like this.
There once was this boy named Bryce. He was a shy boy. Had a twin sister that he loved very dearly. They played Barbies together. My Little Pony. Had glittery stickers and bright colors like pink and purple.
Bryce loved his time with his sister.
Until one day Bryce met other boys. It was no longer just his twin sister and him.
The boys played with monster trucks. Liked this thing called Football. Spit. Lit things on fire. Punched.
A piece of Bryce loved being this kind of boy. Another piece of Bryce loved playing with his sister and their dolls.
He thought he could have it all! Bryce was wrong. Soon the boys made it very clear that playing with dolls was just for girls. That boys didn't play with those kinds of things. They were for sissies. Wimps. GIRLS!!!!
And somewhere deep down, Bryce listened. He soon let the dolls go and only chose to play with those things. He sure as heck wasn't going to be a girl!
GI Joe! Not Barbie.
But why? Both are plastic. Both have two legs and two arms. One has a gun. Another has fun. He loved them both. He loved shooting and destroying things. He also loved playing house.
Ahhh but that is our culture. The culture that splits right down the goddamn middle. We see it in religion. Politics. Race. Sex.
It's a brilliant way of control. But when you break this schism down to it's essence, we can see how patently absurd it is. How fear based it is. How the foundational tenets at which each of these institutions base their belief systems are simply insane.
A doll is a doll.
A life is a life.
And any projection or stereotype is imprisonment of the soul.