Barbie Illusion

As a little girl my Mum and Dad would often go out for dinner parties at other people's houses. I wasn't aware of their physical destinations, but I did know that they often socialized with couples on neighbouring farms. Today these homesteads stand empty as farms have grown bigger to stay viable, therefore losing the healthy socialization that existed through to the end of the 1980s (though many families still had emotional and mental health issues because of social stigmas).

Rarely, but on this occasion, my parents would take me with them at night. One particular evening we were visiting the Simpson's farm, and I was overwhelmed with the toys that the two daughters (Carole and JulieAnne) owned. My initial instinctive reaction was to feel completely overwhelmed, even sickened, despite the age of my small brain. But then I considered - I had toys at home, and was even blessed with a playroom, but these girls had lots of everything! Envy and jealousy grew. I wondered 'Why do we have so little? Are we poor?' Truthfully I had enough, but I was comparing myself, instead of being content with who I was and what I had.

So I sat in this toy filled room, and played with their collection of Barbie dolls, in particular their Barbie doll accessories. These girls had a basket full of accessories, and I felt so small, remembering the few changes of clothes that I had for my own dollies. I didn't know exactly what I wanted, but I wanted this. This feeling of luxurious excess, the feeling that I was important because I had stuff. My desire and inadequacy was driving me to act, and I conceived to take something from the stash, arguing that they wouldn't even know the difference. A pair of plastic green boots looked appealing, and as we were called from the room I took them and held them in my little paw. I remember holding them so tight in the car on the way home, a feeling of excited satisfaction that I had managed to be a part of what they had.

Of course afterwards I was overwhelmed with shame and guilt, and I dared not tell my parents (who I predict would have overreacted, rather than simply sitting down and discussing with a little girl about how sometimes we have feelings of envy that make us want things of others). I tried those boots on my barbie, and they looked fantastic, but I had lost all good feeling for them. I could not figure out why I was not feeling that same state of luxury now that I had the boots, as I had when in the midst of Carole and JulieAnne's toyfest. And every time I looked at those boots I could not help but think of how I had stolen them, and how I knew that stealing was wrong, and feeling annoyed that I couldn't enjoy them because of it. Reluctantly I stashed those boots away, not wanting to even look at them. And many years later my sister played with those boots and asked me about them, and it reminded me of how I had wanted to fit in, even as a little girl, all those years ago.