The Girl Who Never Owned a Doll

I never owned a doll, and I never wanted to have one.

When I was young, I was frightened with dolls. When my cousin, a complete girly girl, brought her huge doll for the first time in one of our play times, my curiosity increased considerably. Because of its porcelain face and squashy form, I hugged it and to my surprise, IT TALKED TO ME. I never encountered a talking doll in my life until that day and I thought that it was some sort of a demonic object, a possessed demon because none of my other toys could talk. I was horrified that I ran about the room screaming and crying. Since that day, I’ve been glaring at dolls with aversion.

But for the course of my childhood days, dolls are just extremely popular and there’s no way of getting away from such fad. My mother used to sell dolls in our little store when I was very little and I remember, I used to glare at an array of dolls which legs didn't move, but the arms moved up and down and the eyes would open and close. Those were fascinating to me in a bad way.

And my last memory of a doll was when I was in grade two and my boy classmates had this perverse snooping of the female crotch and we spent stolen moments lifting her skirt and looking down there, but unfortunately there was nothing but shining, shimmering fake plastic creases. But we did it again and again just for the thrill of it.

I didn’t like dolls at all. They do nothing. They are boring. Dressing them up is so not my style. They’re so pointless and they never showed appreciation at all. They are just standing there on the boxes with their fake smile and fake glimmering eyes.

When I was young I was busy with my ‘panumbalay sa piyak balay’ where I’d go to my neighbors and we’d play house. Sometimes I would run after chicks and baby ducks and catch them with my bare hands. Then after I’d caught them, I would trap them in a marmalade jar and play them and shake them until they die. Really, I am this sinister when I was a little tomboyish girl.

I never really had toys when I was little. I don’t know but playing in the rice field near the waterway is much better. I had a kite once and it had given me so much fun. I admired legos and how you can build almost anything with it. I am secure enough in my femininity to admit that, with no shame at all.

During those times, most of the kids in my neighborhood doubted if I was really a girl. I was and always am a girl. Just because I was playing with Legos and climb trees and soaked my feet on the dirty waterway and played kite doesn’t mean I’m any less than a girl! One thing I learned during that time, girls weren’t supposed to like these kinds of things.

My parents didn’t seem to mind so I went my own way.

I know there are a lot of us doll haters out there just like me who turned into real women who were once real bored with make-believe dolls. You see, I’m still normal, nothing is wrong except that I have lost girlish tendencies.

Most of the times these encounters with the Barbie doll world make me question what divides feminism with feminine. Because I know I am a feminist but I was never that close to being feminine. Oh well, this matter deserves another post.