Dear Girlfriend, Calling You “Cupcake” Is Disempowering So I’m Going to Start Calling You “Optimus Prime” Instead.
You are my Optimus Prime and I am your Shia LaBeouf.
Dear girlfriend,
I realize I haven’t been the most considerate person to you. For years I have been calling you ‘cupcake’, which upon contemplation, I realize may not the most empowering thing to call you.
My brother calls his girlfriend Karen, ‘pumpkin’. I suspected he did this not just because he’s avidly into gourd culture but because Karen reminds him of a pumpkin. She is quite orange, if you recall. As such, I don’t think a remarkable woman like yourself would appreciate being called a cupcake; an item that while “pretty”, is artificial and actually quite harmful in excess. Calling you a “cupcake” is wildly misrepresentative and demeaning and propagates outdated ideas about what your value is as a woman.
Also, I don’t even like cupcakes. I have a gluten allergy, remember? The sentiment I want to express to you is “I love you” not ‘‘I strongly associate your presence with bloating and diarrhea”.
That is why, moving forward I will instead call you something infinitely more romantic and empowering; Optimus Prime.
Yes, Optimus Prime. You heard correctly. I will now affectionately refer to you as the de facto leader of the extraterrestrial shapeshifting robot race known as the Autobots, popularized by Hasbro’s Transformers toy line and Michael Bay’s film franchise of the same name.
Just let me explain myself. But with that said, you might as well get used to this because “UR OPTIMUS MINE” is what’s being printed on next year’s Valentine candy hearts.
Also, it should be noted that in the films, Optimus never explicitly states any particular gender alignments, so you don’t have worry to about being called a “man’s” name. Sure, Optimus’ voice is deep but it would be closed minded to assume that the prevailing gender norms of humans are the same as Transformers.
You are one of the strongest most resilient people I know. Cupcakes don’t begin to capture your level of toughness. But Optimus Prime does. Remember in Transformers 3 when the diabolical Sentinel Prime beats Optimus into submission and then mercilessly rips the Autobot’s arm off? Despite this, Optimus perseveres onward. That’s how I feel about you at family dinners, when my mother directly compares what you’re wearing to what Karen’s wearing and you just ignore it. I don’t know how do you it. Her comments about your romper are arguably more devastating than a Decepticon aerial assault lead by Starscream.
Furthermore, my Little ‘Mus Sunshine, while cupcakes are bad for me, you are definitely not. You take care of me when I’m down, just as how Optimus took care of the perpetually sweaty Shia LaBeouf as he impetuously ran through three movies worth of homogenous urban wreckage. If I were to compare your gentle, compassionate touch to anything, it would be to Optimus Prime’s giant Energon-infused battle axe which was used to cleave through the war-mongering Decepticon leader, Megatron.
Cupcakes are flashy and ostentatious and you are not. If you think that a giant twenty-eight-foot-tall robot that transforms into a blue and red 1994 Peterbilt 379 semi-trailer truck with flame decals is also showy, I would argue that the Georgetown Cupcake menu is still way more obnoxious. Lavender Earl Grey Teacake? Vanilla Confetti Bunny Face? Really?
The Cybertronian gears are already in motion. Your girl friends have agreed that anytime you do something praiseworthy instead of exclaiming “yassss queeeen” they will exclaim “Optimussssss queen”.
My Optimus Prime (just to clarify, I’m referring now to you and not the giant space robot). My goal is to cherish you but also support you and be your ally. And what better way to commemorate this objective than by referring to you as Earth’s greatest ally in the intergalactic conflict against Megatron and his Decepticon legion?
Sincerely,
Shia LaBoyfriend
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