“Girls who love themselves don’t seek validation from everyone around them.”
I’ve pondered this statement long before I ever wrote it into this little strip. It’s nice to receive validation. Any author can expound upon the delight she derives from a well-worded review or a note of encouragement. Any marketing strategy is, essentially, a search for validation, too. “See? My product is worth something. People are buying it.”
I’m not skewering the practice itself, but external validation, while delightful, can never remedy low self-esteem. A heroine does not suddenly have worth because she saves the world, or because a man falls slobbering in love with her, or because she is raised from poverty to nobility. So why is this motif so enduring?
“I’m worth something because I scored the game-winning shot.”
“I’m worth something because my crush confessed his love for me.”
“I’m worth something because I was crowned prom queen.”
You can stop after the first three words. There is no “because.”
“The Girl with Low Self-Esteem” fits into the broader Girl-as-Object spectrum. When a character is acted upon rather than acting for herself, when she laments her inferiority and pines for someone else to improve her world, someone to love her, someone to praise her, she’s reinforcing this stereotype. When an author writes a character into this submissive state of mind as though it’s a positive with positive consequences, that author is reinforcing the stereotype.
I’m not calling for an outright ban on characters with low self-esteem, but if the endgame for that character doesn’t involve the acquisition of some dignity and confidence independent of external approval, maybe rethink the low-self-esteem angle. It’s not romantic for a girl to go catatonic when her boyfriend dumps her. It’s mental, and she needs therapy. Let’s not portray it otherwise, mm’kay?
We’re worth something. All of us, each as individuals. That knowledge doesn’t come from others. It comes from God. It is Eternal Truth. It is non-negotiable, and wallowing in self-pity or self-hatred will atrophy a soul, not open a door to new love or adventure.