Holy Barbie

I watched the Barbie movie (again) last night. Partly in solidarity with Greta Gerwig and Margot Robbie who created this sneaky pink send-up of the patriarchy, AND created a cultural conversation, AND got snubbed by the Academy of Motion Pictures last week.

In a foreseeable but still ridiculous irony, Ken got nominated and Barbie didn’t, nor did the woman who put them both on screen. SMH.

America Ferrera got nominated - yay - and her character’s speech about the impossibility of womanhood has already gone down in history for it’s lucidity and precision, but that’s not the part I’m still considering.

It’s when her character, Gloria, asks the CEO of Mattel, our beloved and demented Will Ferrell, if they could just make an Ordinary Barbie.

One that’s a mom and not the President, or one that is the President and a mom, or who cares what her titles are, just a woman doing what she wants in a happy, satisfied way.

So #OrdinaryBarbie is a thing now and I’m glad, because among women in midlife I often hear a subtle request for permission that sounds like:

Is it ok to be ordinary and not exceptional? Am I valuable even if I’m not crushing it, hyper-achieving and girlbossing my ass off? If I’m not perfect?

It’s usually said in a tired, burnt out whisper, with shame as the bass note.

For the record, #OrdinaryBarbies don’t want to be lazy, incompetent or anti-excellence. That’s not what the word even means - unless you’re knee deep in American hustle culture, trying to survive in Ken’s mojo dojo casa house.

Underachiever. 

Here are some of the problems with exceptionalism:

First, contrary to the messages of the 80’s self-esteem movement, not everybody can be exceptional, it’s a mathematical impossibility. If everyone is exceptional then no one is, they’re just normal or average. It’s math people.

Secondly, exceptionalism requires a spectrum to create meaningful measurement. And most women I know are SO. DAMN. TIRED. of comparing themselves to and competing with other women, especially for things like promotion, security, recognition and rest.

(Also, and this is another post, BIPOC women, have this much much worse.)

Thirdly, something in us is supposed to die at midlife, but it hurts; that’s why we call it a crisis. What’s dying, according to psychoanalyst Dr. James Hollis, are the “phantasmal wishes of childhood.”

Our young egos, desperate to find safety in an overwhelming world, decided that immortality, celebrity or relational perfection would guarantee it. Only when we acknowledge the deflation of these hopes, Hollis says, does our second life begin.

Whoa.

So yes, ordinary is our most likely outcome, and it hurts to feel like you settled or failed some younger version of yourself. But did you? Or are you coming into a version of yourself less dependent on applause?

Here’s what I know about midlife women.

• They want to be good, but not by comparing themselves to other women on the “yah-but-how-good” scale.

• They want to do work that matters: To be useful and create value, but not just for shareholders.

• They want to be loved without performing or begging for it.

• They want to be secure - not living with uncertainty all the time.

• They want to raise their children in safety. (That’s true for all women everywhere.)

• They want to be engaged and satisfied, not just busy.

• They want to be inspired, not just entertained.

• They want to serve: Embedded with people who love them and are grateful for their contributions.

I think that’s what Gloria meant by “ordinary” but perhaps a better word is “holy.”

#HolyBarbie is brave.

It takes courage to let old things fall away before something else is born - crazy faith too.

Many years ago, I confused the humble goodness of Jesus with the shrieking Christian machine and abruptly abandoned my faith. All I found though was bitter cold. I had to become more humble and trust that El Roi, the God who sees me, will always catch me - even if it doesn’t look like I think it should.

That belief is a choice, and one that helps me maintain hope.

What also helps is slowing everything down. Waiting. Dwelling in the Spirit of God. Letting go of control. Sacrificing things I like, for things I love. Getting curious about stirrings in my heart that seem dangerous but true. Then acting on them.

Gloria followed Barbie into Barbieland out of love, curiosity and a desire for joy and restoration - things that come into sharp relief at midlife.

If I could define your second-half purpose for you, and teleport you past all the scary bits to the end, I wouldn’t, because it wouldn’t work.

Without your bravery, your curiosity and willingness to “fail,” we’d end up in a place much less true. Building a life on purpose begins with telling the truth about who you are now, and what you do and don’t want.

Then accepting it.

Ordinary is awesome.

There’s so much freedom in shaking off the fetters of others’ expectations. People in midlife are catching on to this, but the lie that’s embedded - especially in the achievers - is:

ONCE I GET ALL THE APPLAUSE AND THE TROPHIES, I WILL FINALLY BE GOOD ENOUGH AND WORTHY OF LOVE. THEN I CAN RELAX.

Ask a sister with all the trophies how that’s working. Did the imposter go away?

The question of ordinary is this: Can I just do me, at whatever level I want and still be valuable and worthy - even if I wind up a little weird?

Yes darling, and you should, as soon as possible, because this is a holy calling.