Princess-like

Let's talk about something I've been avoiding for a while, and that is the name for this blog.

"Princess" has been a self-given title of myself for quite a while. I might not have called myself one in public until last year, but that doesn't mean I didn't see myself as one. Most of my make-believe games while growing up had me being one, as long as I played with myself (while playing with others, I didn't even try for a "prince" title). And my fascination with princesses comes mainly from the place where most girls got their self-deluded idea of royalty as well: Disney.

Nostalgia Chick did a pretty good video on the whole Disney Princess phenomenon. And it's important to mention that the Disney Princess line was sort of an afterthought after one of the honchos at Disney realized that girls really bought into the whole idea (the word "bought" there also refers to how much money they and/or their parents spent on the idea). For me, the Disney Princess was less a merchandise (probably because there were (or are) no items marketed for boys) and more an ideal. Disney Princesses might've started as complex stories of Damsels In Distress (Snow White, Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty), but I grew up with the ones that would fight for what they wanted. I'd finally find my One True Princess with Belle.

Belle was well-read, snarky, and would wear one of the best dresses ever worn by a princess. She was brave, curious, and the kind of boy I wanted to be when I turned 18.

Yes, boy, for you see, it never occurred to me that Princess had a gender limit. As far as I cared at the time, the only difference between Belle and I was that she was a girl and I was a boy and just as Adam (or the Beast, for those of you who do not know the Beast's name) saw her for who she truly was and loved her, someone would do the same with me. I was as sure of being a boy, as I was sure of being a Princess.

Some years later, Cuarón's A Little Princess would come out in movie theaters, and she would deliver onto me (us) the following line.

Miss Minchin: Don't tell me you still fancy yourself a princess? Child, look around you! Or better yet, look in the mirror.
(dramatic pause goes here)
Sara Crewe: I am a princess. All girls are. Even if they live in tiny old attics. Even if they dress in rags, even if they aren't pretty, or smart, or young. They're still princesses. All of us.

Yes. All of us. Even the ones who are boys.

Sadly, not long after this (which is an event that would later have me wanting to become a filmmaker) I had to face the real world. The real world had very definite standards when it came to its princesses, and I did not even begin to fit any of them.

While the fantasy became silent, it did not become absent. Sometimes things about ourselves that are hidden take on far more power than those that we do acknowledge. The Princess factor in my case sort of helped me through all of my jr. high and high school drama. It was an escape.

It would take until college to retake the whole Princess ideal. What is it? What does it mean for me? How does it affect me and those around me? Am I really a princess?

As the title of this blog might've told you, yes, I do still see myself as Princess-like. At first I commented it among friends as a joke, but it began gaining momentum in my own subconscious. I began to question what it meant to be a Princess, and how my being a male affected it.

My main issue was based on the idea that what is feminine is weak. A Princess can be a strong female figure, but to put any sort of feminine characteristic on a male ideal is to weaken it. Being a feminine boy, I was no stranger to people thinking of me as weak. The only answer to this, I was told, is to become more male (tougher, stronger, less sensitive). But that to me would've meant creating a mask. Strength is not real strength unless it comes from who you are.

But then I realized that for all it's chest-pounding bravado the idea of what is to be "a man" is fueled a lot by fear. Being "a man" is a lot more about what you don't do than what you actually do. So by forgoing that fear I was actually brave and strong. Putting on a mask would only give a face to my fears, showing myself as I am would be to deny fear an entryway.

Right now, what being a Princess means for me is to try and know yourself. It means to keep a sense of wonder about the world. It means to try and be kind to everyone. It means to focus not on the problem at hand but on how to solve it. It means not to underestimate yourself.

I am a Princess, and I say that only half-jokingly.