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I Wanted to Be a Pretty Picture for Someone Once Upon a Time
You can’t be perfect for anyone — not even yourself.
When I was a teenager, I thought I had to shape my very being to be a “match” for someone else. I would laugh at every awkward joke, I would listen with rapt attention to anything the boy in question said, and I would make sure I had my signals all pointing towards the fact that I was head over heels long before there was any mention of feelings being unrequited or not.
The he in question didn’t seem to matter as much those days. In all my teen mags, having a boyfriend seemed to be the pinnacle of a girl’s high school experience. I read through every tip and column splashed across those magazines that, in retrospect, were far from being feminist literature of any kind.
It didn’t help that I had grown up with a steady diet of Disney animated films — most of which always had the princess getting the guy, no matter what trials and obstacles were in her way. (I still love those films, but I realize now that they can send pretty problematic messages to impressionable kids.)
Basically, almost every piece of media I indulged in left me with the belief that I was pretty much worthless if I could not attract a boy and claim him as my boyfriend.
