Why Women Are Such Drama Queens


Ever wondered why twitter has all these accounts with break-up quotes and facebook pages full of inspirational photos? Yeah, for a few minutes it’s kind of cute. Inspiring even but if you see all your girl friends re-tweeting the same god damn man-hating-I’m-ok-look-i’m-happy-without-you quotes followed by lyrics of sad break-up songs on facebook, don’t worry scientists haven’t found a brain melting vaccine in case a zombie apocalypse breaks out. It’s just us girls being, girls. 

You see, when we we were kids, our elders were too busy to actually pay attention to us and instead, popped in a VHS/betamax/laser disc (or whatever)  and made us sit for hours watching princesses in distress get rescued by their prince charmings. Their perfectly shaped bodies were covered in pastel colored gowns that every girl wore on Halloween. 

Yes, I too, wanted to be a princess. I used to dream that one day, I would be beautiful enough to catch the eye of the prince and he will whisk me away from all my problems. That would have been an easy life, all I had to do was be pretty, accept my circumstances, learn to sing a few songs to my animal friends, patiently wait for my rescuer and live happily ever after. 

Growing up, I felt the pressure of having to look good and act pleasing to everyone so that I could be counted as a princess, worthy of a prince. I measured my self worth with the number of guys who would ask for my number and eventually go out with. If I was alone, it was as if I was being told that I was not pretty enough or not nice enough to deserve a boy’s attention.

The presence of another girl would inevitably daunt me. She’s my competition for potential princes who were to rescue me and I would do everything I could to make her out to be the wicked stepsister. In my eyes, I was the only princess around. I had to defend my right to a fairytale ending. Remember, in all those princess movies, there was only one princess that EVERYONE wanted. There is no room for two. 

And here, you can see where all insecurity issues arise. We were raised to believe that there can only be one coveted princess. Every other girl is supposed to look on with fascination and wonder. Even Belle from Beauty and the Beast was a source of fascination among the ravishing blonde beauties in their town. Yes, she was different, but she was different because her beauty stood out and even her bookishness was an impediment to her attractiveness. And when she got to the Beast’s castle? Sure, she presented her with a library but it was still her beautiful face that he wanted to see before he died, he didn’t want a recitation of Tolstoy’s War and Peace.

In my late teens, I gave up on this notion of a fairy tale life. I was just too impatient and hard-headed to wait for a prince to rescue me. I hated having to stay silent when I knew that some sort of injustice was being done to me. I learned to speak my mind. My parents would tell me that I wouldn’t attract a man this way and I thought they were right. 

It took me until my sophomore year in college to get a boyfriend. After three years, it didn’t work out. They say my personality is too strong and that I asserted myself too much in the relationship. Of course I got depressed. I felt that everything in those damn movies were right. I HAD to be just a girl waiting patiently for her prince charming. I turned to drinking to numb the pain of a “fairy tale gone wrong”. I know, it sounds pathetic. It’s already the 21st century and I still thought like a maiden from the dark ages. Oh, minus the drinking spree, that is. I did do all those man-hating rants on my social networking accounts and prettified myself in the hopes of winning back my “prince” (insert vomit here). 

Fast forward a few years:I now have a baby girl on the way and I’m not really sure how I am going to raise her. Marriage is really far from anyone’s mind right now, so a castle with loving tight-knit family around . I’m happy going to work everyday and spending my own hard-earned money. Yes, I still buy make-up and dress to impress but I fight for what I believe in be it a small work dispute or a huge family row. I don’t care whose feelings I hurt as long as I know that I am right. Oftentimes, I end up hurting a lot of people. If I were to look at myself from the eyes of the 3-year old me, I would think I’m the wicked stepmother out for blood. 

But no, thinking that fairy tales are actually open-ended, I sometimes think of what they would have turned out to be. I’m pretty sure the Little Mermaid tormented her Prince Eric with her hoarding, Snow White would have been institutionalized because of her penchant for talking to animals and sleeping in stranger’s houses and Jasmine would’ve found out the hard way that handing over her father’s crown to a man who could pretend to be someone he’s not just to get what he wants could just fly away on his magic carpet to find a new cave of wonders. 

And now I’m actually confused as to how I am going to raise my daughter. Do I let her live out the fantasy while she is young and then just teach her about real life after or do I let her learn for herself?  Or do I let her learn about this on her own? I can only do so much because I know for a fact that she will be facing a lot of antagonism if I don’t raise her to be an adorable little princess. I don’t want her to be discouraged from living out a fairy tale but I want her to write her own story, no need for the kiss from the prince for her happily ever after. If she does, then that’s wonderful but if not, I want her to know that it’s okay not to have to be whisked away from her problems by someone else.


Besides, I will be doing the world a favor by having one less person flooding twitter/facebook with sappy quotes and excerpts from sad love songs.