Read: The Petite Sophisticate: Soapbox
Okay, I have some definite feelings about this, but my thoughts are still a little scattered, so here goes.
This is not the first time I’ve seen this come out of the internet… Jezebel did a similar piece on “manic pixie dream girls” a few months back, that I discovered after hearing a segment about it on NPR.
If you read the Petite Sophisticate piece, and especially the comments that follow, you can see this archetype is causing quite a bit of resentment and envy amongst the ladies. A lot of attention is given to the siren-esque attributes of the “Amazing Girl”, or “AG” as Sadie, the author, dubs her. Apparently AGs are out there stealing the men from all the “real” girls, with their mystery and… scarves, apparently (there is a lot of talk about scarves). Unfortunately, Sadie fails to settle on one specific type of girl to resent, as evidenced by the commenters complaints. Sometimes the AG is a creative spirit, sometimes her only talent seems to be “sleeping with artists”. Sometimes what infuriates others is the AG’s generosity and non-judgemental demeanor, other times she is seen as a “calculating” and manipulative woman, who is threatened by the presence of other females. Really, the post simply becomes a place for women to air their insecurity-fueled grievences about whatever female got the guy at the end of the day.
What the hell, people? Do you realize that this is a completely fictional woman?! You know what all the examples of the AG or MPDG have in common? Some guy made them up!
Annie Hall? Penny Lane? Sam, from Garden State? Maude? Clementine Kruczynski? The Mona Lisa, even? C’mon these women are all the creations of men! And these guys are not even good examples of men who are known for their respect of the opposite sex!
The thing is, in Jezebel’s post I was surprised to see that most of the MPDGs listed existed in movies that I’m a huge fan of. So my disappointment stems largely from (surprise!) a feminist standpoint: Once again, we have men making up a perfectly innocent female archetype that then ends up pitting women against each other in order to attain what? That Which Makes Us Whole, of course: A man.
Now, I know what a lot of you are thinking, “Oh Erin, you and your man-hating ways.”
I’d like to set the record straight and say I absolutely do not hate men. Unfortunately, my reasons for feeling impassioned enough to write this post have to do with a man, yes. It’s a really personal issue, and I’ll tell you why. For years, I was in love with an artist. Head-over-heels. My ultimate wet dream was for him at any point to refer to me as his “muse”. I tried desperately to fill the role of “Amazing Girl”, even though she was as vague in my mind as she is in The Petite Sophisticate.
Then, the artist and I broke up. He found another girl, and wasted no time in letting me know of her existence. She was awesome. She was creative. She was wiry, philisophical and yes, she was a poet.
I fell apart. How could there be another girl, more special than me, for him?? I am being completely honest when I say, I never knew what jealousy felt like until that period in my life. My insecurity became crippling. I learned what panic attacks feel like. And I hated her for it.
Of course, the artist and I reunited, and you would THINK that would solve my insecurities, but it didn’t. His amazingly manipulative manner in pitting us against each other totally worked, and my entire being was in the palm of his hand. I struggled against my feelings of wanting to get to know such a girl, and wanting to make sure she never came between us again. I became someone else, really.
We remained together for another year and a half, desperately holding together a wounded love that became dependent on my emotional, well, dependence (this is exactly what the professionals refer to as “co-dependence”).
Luckily, over time, I found it in myself to take care of my psyche, recognize my compliance in a sick relationship model, and to try to right the wrongs that had been going on for so long. This included reaching out to the girl who I’d hated in place of hating the man I loved, the man who taught me what jealousy feels like. It was perhaps, the biggest step I took in reclaiming myself, and to untangle my self-worth from my ability to hold the artist’s attention. Which I didn’t. The less I needed him, the deeper he buried himself in his work.
The irony is that, as this girl and I got to know each other, it was revealed that all the time I felt so insecure about her, she had been feeling the same way about me. We had both observed similarities in our characters and dubbed ourselves inadequate, somehow. The kicker came when I revisited a poem she had written about the artist, and suddenly realized I was in it, at the end. I was the ethereal, mysterious love. Perhaps to her, I had been the AG. I can’t speak for her, of course, but perhaps.
So, having been on both sides of this, I can safely say that the AG and the MPDG are both exemplified perfectly exactly where they belong: In fiction. In the movies. So why are we women hating each other over it? Women have spent so long trying to prove that we are not possessions, not prizes to be won. We are so much more. When are we going to wake up and realize that men aren’t prizes or possessions either?
At the end of the day, everyone’s doing the best they can. Even those manic pixies. And if “doing the best you can” means you wear scarves and read poetry, fine. If not, that’s fine too! Will doing the best you can and being yourself score you the guy in the end? Who cares? The guy is not for scoring! Your self-worth has nothing to do with that!
So yeah, women, lets all put our hackles down and remember we’re not on teams, we’re actually all on the same team: Team Humanity. And if that sounds corny, fine. But I have to be honest, I am much happier as a person once I realized this and embraced another woman I had thought would be the ruin of me, than I was when I “had” the man. And while, at the time, I may have been trying to fit the description of an “Amazing Girl”, I can tell you that during that period, I never felt less amazing.
