A Strongly Worded Letter to Girls Who Are Still Obsessed with Disney Princesses

Okay, so before everyone flips their shit about how great and betchy DPs are, please chill. This letter is not meant to disregard the contributions the Princesses made to the art of betchiness. They were our first introduction to dressing like a slut (ahem Jasmine) and lying to bros to make them love us (“Don't worry Eric I'm TOTALLY a human woman”) and for that I salute them. However, there is a difference between casually enjoying the things that made you the badass betch you are today, and living vicariously through a fictional princess just so you can pretend to be hotter than you actually are.

Like, it's one thing to know what Disney Princess you'd be if you had to dress up as one for like a theme party or something. You know, if you're tan your options are Jasmine or Pocahontas. If you're a ginger you're Ariel, if you're Asian you're Mulan and if you're blonde and white you can be whatever you want (just like in real life). But if the Disney Princess you claim to “be” is actually a serious part of your identity, that is a red fucking flag that you are a psycho or at least have skin problems.

Like, oh okay you think you ARE Ariel? No, bitch, you're not. You just have red hair and kind of smell like fish. Or maybe you think you're Belle because you took French in high school and you “love books.” Well guess what, Belle could have married a hot pro who everybody in town liked a lot but instead she made friends with her silverware and fell in love with a giant cat person. That's what reading books gets you.

Which Disney Princess am I? None. None because I am a real person who exists. (But also I'm tan and have black hair and a flat stomach so Jasmine.)

At this point you've let your Disney Princess thing take over your life and it is no longer “cute” or “fun” or “quirky”. If I walk into your room and am immediately assaulted by the wide-eyed gaze of a thousand smiling Snow Whites then you have taken this thing too far. Seriously, you are living in a pale pink nightmare and I can't be apart of it.

And let's take a minute to talk about the singing. If you're singing a Disney song, ask yourself, “Am I drunk?” If the answer is yes, proceed. If the answer is no, cut that shit out immediately because you are annoying the fuck out of everyone else around you.

(The only exception to this rule is “Be a Man” from Mulan which is legally protected and allowed to be sung any time, anywhere, in its entirety.)

So please, please, you are a grown ass woman, retire the shitty adult ball gown you bought on Etsy and buy something that comes only in black. Maybe like, some pants or something. You don't have to throw out ALL your Disney shit, but scale it down to a level appropriate for someone over the age of 12 and put the rest in storage for when you have a daughter of your own.

And for the love of God stop singing Let it Go. That shit is not cute and you sound nothing like Adele Dazeem or whatever the fuck her name is.



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