When I was little, I dreamed of being a princess.
Just like so many others do.
Imagining all the fun we will have.
Of Tea times and dressing in the finest dresses, wearing tiaras, and jewels,
all day of the week.
Princesses only seems to dress prettily in the stories.
We all dreamt of the same thing,
Happy endings that always come at the end, cherished and pampered.
Most of all loved by everyone.
Princesses were always loved because she was inherently kind. Inherently docile.
Inherently pure and innocent.
( Remember, Your purity is your worth)
None of them was because
people respected them.
All of them was because
Of their beauty.
( A princess have to pamper their self to utmost perfection, your beauty define your worth)
Princess is a symbol of perfection.
Symbol of Divinity.
A guideline for Goodness and womanhood.
Standards that shaped and pushed them self to little girls to be molded into a perfect piece of art that they them self would rarely get to enjoy.
( Art pieces, after all cannot admire them self)
We have to strive for divinity and no less, because less means
we will be condemned to be the wicked ones.
( No one bother to tell us that it is unreachable.)
No one wanted to be the wicked ones because history burned who ever were branded as wicked.
( we stood on a world
piled with their ashes
and everyone will claim it as a victory)
One of the lesson, that these tale seems to croons that there is no in between for us.
That there is only two archetypes for girls to grow up to.
The Princess or the Evil Witch.
Choose, the tale seems to shout.
( be obedient, be submissive).
( Princess lives happily ever after).
(Fight, rebel, speak)
( Evil witch will always be burned)
( This are the endings we have set for you, girls)
Back then, after going home from school, I would read tales about princesses from all over the world.
I devoured them like they were gospels, Laughing delightedly when the princes save the day then marries the princess, and frowning when the villain managed to defeat the heroes.
( Death, is the only happy ending we will really get)
I learned that to have a happy ending, a prince need to save me,
from my self.
( Every princesses need a prince,
for a proper princess cannot save herself.
You need to be saved to be complete)
My parents called me their little darling princess, Their crown jewel,
Their most cherished treasure.
They would hug me, clothed me, spun me into a figurine that they like.
Telling me that I am theirs.
Flesh and blood,
Glittering orbs of red.
Another princess tales, which plot echoes through out time. Beggars can't be choosers.
The same way a princess can't choose anything for them self.
The tale said,
A good daughter is an obedient daughter.
Shouting and screaming is prohibited.
( Lower your voice,
princesses don't raise their voice.
They speak softly as soft as the flutter of butterfly wings
or preferably they don't speak at all.)
To be a princess, foremost is to sacrifice your whole being,
To subdued your self
To stop being human,
and start being a treasure, a jewel.
Being fought over for the rights of possession.
( Isn't that the most highest pedestal you can put someone to?)
As I grew up, these tales keep following me.
( Dont run, princesses never run.
Of Snow white,
Who was treated as if she was only an object of desire after the prince saw her dead in the glass coffins.
( You're mine, you got that?)
Of the sleeping beauty silence,
that was taken as a consent to ravished her until she woke up because she gave birth to twins.
( Babe, you like this don't you? You have to, you're made for this)
Of the little mermaid plight,
Discarding herself completely to be accepted on the lands, trading her voice and being in excruciating pain for her prince.
The one who will not love her.
( You look horrible in that, change into something prettier and for god sake, put some make up on)
Of Atalanta, who could not escape marriage
and forced to marry a man she lost a race unfairly to, because her father decrees so in the first place.
( My princess, you can't be with that person.
They're not suited for you,
We want the best for you.
You don't know what's best for you. )
Of Bawang Putih and Bawang Merah,
Echoing the morals, how your beauty define you, how you will be evil if you are less than beautiful.
( She's ugly, that's why she's jealous of her)
Of Putri Hijau ending,
That to be free from being under the power of men, you have to jump into the ocean.
(You are mine, forever)
Of the archetypes for Good and Evil,
( A good girl says yes, A bad girl say no)
How The Tales, often than not,
parallel each others, as if trying to drill them self into our subconsciousness with these toxic message.
( Princesses belongs to the people.
She never belongs to herself. )
These unspoken rules followed me into adulthood.
Subconscious message of how to be loved you need to be less.
You need to submit,
to be obedient,
most of all, you need to be beautiful.
That beauty is how you're going to get your prince. Never it is because your wit, your courage, your wisdom,
what use do you have for them if you don't have a pretty face.
No husband will find ever find you.
( Remember, wicked ones doesn't have a prince to set them straight.
You don't want to be a wicked one,
Now do you?
So spread your legs, and lay down.
Take it. Atta girl! )
These unreachable standards, bound us the same way they bound people feet to be dainty.
They are rules for us to be less human, to be a thing.
A princess, in this world is another term for a possession.
(There is no such things as an independent princess, object need owners)
The stories always put them in gilded cages.
Once I asked why?
Why do they need to be caged?
Why can't they be free?
The tales said that beautiful things needed somewhere to be kept.
The tales said many thing,
seemingly innocent but screaming about our worth, girls worth in the society.
(You need to be pretty for anyone to love you.)
(You're good if you are obedient.)
(You have no need for your voice,
Silence is the only voice you need.)
(You're made to just lay down and take it.)
(You need a man to complete you
and set you straight.)
(Never be yourself.)
I grew up wanting to be a princess,
Just like many others do.
What we realized, to be a princess
We have to be a slave.
We have to be dead.
This was inspired by lots of books and articles I read.
Sorry for the cliche title, and thank you for reading the long poem.