The “Little Princess” Theory of Beauty
Conscious worth satisfies the hungry heart, and nothing else can. - Mary Baker Eddy
In the 1995 remake of the movie A Little Princess, there’s a scene where Miss Minchin, the black-hearted school marm, is confronted by Sara (the little princess). With an astonishing measure of boldness, Sara tells Miss Minchin that she is a princess and that all girls are princesses regardless of their station in life, their physical appearance, their intelligence or even their age. With innocent eyes, Sara stares into Miss Minchin’s hardscrabble face and asks her, “Didn’t your father ever tell you that? Didn’t he?”
Judging by the look in Miss Minchin’s eyes, she never heard those words or even that sentiment expressed by dear old Dad. And judging by the current epidemic of low self-esteem among women, I’d venture to guess that most of today’s fathers follow the parenting model of Miss Minchin’s dad, rather than Sara’s.
Which brings me to the first of four basic theories regarding beauty and self-esteem.
First, there’s The Little Princess Theory of Beauty. You are miles ahead of most of us if you were raised on a steady diet of compliments and kind words. Bonus points for hearing these compliments and kind words from a man with an important position in your life. You might have a third eye centered on your upper forehead with one massive, circuitous eyebrow over all three of your lovely gray eyes, but the fact is, if your father (or a suitable alternate) told you that you were beautiful, you’re going to act, feel and behave like someone who is beautiful.
The self-confidence that has its roots in childhood is like the tap-root of an old, established tree, which in time, has grown down to the water table. Such a tree will not be adversely affected by the summer’s heat or prolonged drought or the other storms of life. Self-confidence that’s nurtured and developed in the early years is a powerful, enduring quality that lives on, completely independent of the mean-spirited opinion of others.
If I were queen of the world (and it shouldn’t be long now), I’d tell all the fathers of the world this one thing: “You possess the ability to make your daughter - your little girl - feel good and confident about herself and you wield a powerful influence over her ability to attract a desirable partner. Further, the man that she selects as her life partner - good, bad or horrific - will be determined largely by your words and actions. You’re teaching her what kind of man she should select, accept, or settle for. You have the potential to make her adult life perfectly lovely or unspeakably hellish. Open your eyes and your heart before you open your mouth and think about the far-reaching implications of your word choices.”
I have met many women whom the world might define as “less than beautiful” and yet they possess the surety and self-esteem of a beauty-queen. After talking with them, I invariably learn that they had a father (or father-figure) who conscientiously made an effort to develop and grow their sense of self-worth. Conversely, I’ve met women who were drop-dead gorgeous and yet they imagined themselves to be quite unattractive. Those women often had a sad story to tell about a father who degraded them or belittled them and/or called them ugly names.
If throughout childhood, you were frequently surrounded by a cloud of negative, ugly comments about your physicality, that’s very hard to overcome in adult life.
In The Beauty Myth, Naomi Wolf writes that women’s magazines make their money by selling women on the idea that they’re suffering from a disease of “terminal ugliness,” and that this opens the to sell billions of dollars of “cures.”
Too many women already believe that they’re afflicted with this “disease.” The painful throes and agonized wails imposed by this disease can be heard in the ladies’ dressing room of any clothing store in America. Next time you try on a blouse or a dress, stop for a moment and listen to the cacophony of criticism that women unleash on themselves as they’re squeezing into clothes in adjoining stalls. Their self-inflicted vitriol and disparagement will make your blood run cold.
“I’m such a fat pig,” they snarl out loud at their mirrored image, or “If I don’t lose 20 pounds, I swear I’m gonna kill myself.”
In a perfect world, all girls would grow up hearing and eventually believing that they are little princesses. Throughout their formative years, their self-confidence would be tenderly cultivated and nurtured and developed. However, none of us live in a perfect world and most of us don’t have that deep taproot of self-worth. And that’s the reason for The Bootstrap Theory.
It’s also named the Eleanor Roosevelt No-one-can-make-you-feel-ugly-without-your-consent Theory. (You can see why it’s easier to call this The Bootstrap Theory.)
So your father was a louse and your uncles weren’t much better and no one ever told you that you were a little princess. The Bootstrap Theory states that if a woman lacks self-esteem, she should go right to work on this particular short-coming and pull herself up by her own bootstraps. This theory holds that improving one’s sense of self-worth is entirely an inside job and something that you must do for yourself and by yourself. According to this theory, there are a myriad of ways to raise self-esteem, such as affirmations or meditation, or perhaps accomplishment and success, or achieving long-awaited goals.
As Eleanor Roosevelt once said, “No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.”
This notion is expressed in different ways, such as “No one is going to love you until you’re able to love yourself.” Or its derivative, “You’ve got to be the first one who sees your own beauty. Then, and only then, will the world be able to see it.”
There are some elements of truth to The Bootstrap Theory but it also has many, many flaws. No woman is an island. We are swayed by the opinions of others and that’s especially true in those places where we’re already feeling unsure and insecure.
Fortunately one of my heroes, Virginia Woolf, agrees with me on this one. In a Room of One’s Own (originally an address given to college students), she writes, “Moreover, it is all very well for you, who have got yourselves to college and enjoy sitting rooms of your own to say that genius should disregard such opinions, that genius should be above caring what is said of it. Unfortunately, it is precisely the men and women of genius who mind most what is said of them…Literature is strewn with the wreckage of men who have minded beyond reason the opinions of others.”
The “opinion of others” is tough enough, but the opinions of our so-called loved ones cut especially close to the heart. In the secret sanctuary of our soul, we assign each person a value and a cherished place in our world. Their words - directly proportionate to their assigned value - wield ever more power. For a sensitive soul, it’s tough enough to shake off the criticism from an ignorant stranger, but dismissing the sharply worded critique of a loved one is darned near impossible.
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