I’ll never forget how it felt when my Dad handed me my very first Barbie.
From the moment he walked through the door carrying the life-size make-up doll, anything and everything Barbie-related featured heavily on my Christmas and birthday wish lists.
Effortlessly cool and on point, Barbie was, for me, a symbol of inspiration and limitless potential. Like the older sister I never had, Barbie and I reached many a milestone together. She taught me how to wear my hair in pigtails, let me experiment with make up on her without complaint (two words: blue eyeshadow) and helped me explore, and ultimately fall in love with my femininity.
No, she didn't look like me. Her hair wasn't a frizzy red mess, and her cheeks not rosy and blotchy. Looking back, it never fazed me that Barbie and I were different on the outside. To me, she meant so much more.