I didn’t grow up with Disney dolls. I was one of those lucky kids that grew up surrounded by books with free reign of the outdoors. I didn’t live on the glamorous side of town either—it was government housing and the books were from the library, but I had a rusty slide nearby plus a rope swing. What more could a kid really want?
I didn’t have the types of parents who intentionally meant to shield me from a patriarchal society or the socialization of young girls (keep your faces pretty and their opinions to yourselves, girls!).
I’m sure if my mother could have afforded it, she would have drowned me in princess gear. As it was, she simply took me the park and I swung on the monkey bars until my hands were calloused. Then I stuck a needle through the scabs for funsies. I didn’t even know Disney…
View original post 1,123 more words