Long, wavy, white blonde hair, sun-kissed skin, to die for body and the many gowns and outfits in all colours possible, these were my Barbie’s acquired traits. All that was missing was her significant other! It made perfect sense, for my precious Barbie to have her tall, dark and handsome Ken. I told mother of this ever persisting deficit.
However, Ken never came and strangely enough I was very relieved for my Barbie! Somehow, the theory of him coming, sweeping her off her feet and taking her away from me precipitated?! Whether this was the creation of my mother’s slick and witty escape or the intricate imagination of two little girls reconciling themselves and their Barbie, I have not yet come to the conclusion.
Either way, this theory has survived and grew with me through all those years, lying dormant, deep at the back of my mind. Until recently, with the news of my childhood friend marrying, and my cousin’s fast entry (to me) into wedlock and baby producing stage have brought back the anxiety I went through with my Barbie. The thought that they will no longer be mine, and mine alone, played on my mind.
Yet, they made the transition into marriage world in one piece and I pulled through unharmed in any shape or form; and so there were happy endings to scary beginnings.
Except for Barbie, who now resides in a dark, crowded box, up in the cold, dusty attic. So much for our protectiveness!