Confession: My Feminist Struggle with Barbie’s Legacy

To many, a Barbie is just a doll — plastic, lifeless, a mere child’s plaything. But in reality, objects from our past can hold immense power, encapsulating entire worlds of emotion, memory, and cultural significance.

My own relationship with Barbie is complicated, to say the least. She represents more than just a toy; she’s a symbol of my struggles with societal expectations, personal traumas, and the journey to find my own identity in a world colored in shades of pink.

I confess I do have a “Barbie thing”. I still haven’t watched the new sensational movie but I believe this confession will help me break the walls between me and the Barbie Almighty.

It’s not that I like Barbie or am a fan of her. No. I am a grown-up feminist now. Of course, I do not like Barbie very much, considering the stereotypes and everything. Still, I harbor a semi-traumatic memory from childhood, which covers all the Barbie things for me.

Growing up, Barbie played a pivotal role in my life. Like many of the lucky girls my age, I owned Barbies. I was especially fortunate because I had an auntie who is only 5 years older than me.

Like many of the females in my family, she loved sewing. We used to sew clothes for our Barbies, play with them, make beds and houses for them, and craft…