It was during my ride on Space Mountain that my wife took our daughter, Ava, to the Bibbidi Bobbidi Boutique near Cinderella’s Castle at Disneyland. I found myself alone in the ride, and when I returned to discover that Ava was enjoying a makeover, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had been tricked. The cost seemed exorbitant, and I suspected it was part of a carefully orchestrated plot to keep me occupied while my wife indulged our daughter.
At Bibbidi Bobbidi Boutique, little girls have the chance to select their favorite princess for the day (Ava chose Belle), and then they are transformed to resemble that character. The experience includes a stunning hairstyle, glittery makeup, a tiara, and even a photo session and a meet-and-greet with a Disney princess. Parents are also dubbed king and queen, which is a fun bonus. I won’t disclose the price tag, so please don’t ask. I say “we” because it was a collaborative gift from my in-laws, my wife, and me.
Initially, I had reservations about Ava receiving a princess makeover, stemming not just from the cost. Years ago, I wrote an article titled “My Daughter Is Not a Princess” for a parenting publication, expressing my desire for Ava to grow into a well-rounded individual who values people for their character rather than external markers of status. I wanted her to find love not based on material wealth but on shared values and mutual respect.
While I had mixed feelings about her princess obsession, I was unprepared for how this experience would affect me as a father. Sitting next to my wife, Sarah, on a bench in the boutique, I watched Ava, who was seated in a stylist’s chair. Two women, dressed as princess sidekicks, were pampering her—one focusing on her nails, the other on her hair.
Ava was in a lovely pink gown, radiating happiness. Her small pink sneakers danced in excitement, and I could see her joy shining through her entire being. Once they placed a crown atop her head and turned her to face a golden-framed mirror, her reaction was priceless. The moment she caught a glimpse of herself, something shifted within me. I felt an overwhelming warmth and a sense of pride that I struggled to articulate. It was an emotional experience I hadn’t anticipated, but one that filled me with wonder.
In that moment, Ava appeared to realize how special she truly was. It’s challenging for girls to feel that way in today’s world, where so much emphasis is placed on looks, personality, and popularity. As a father, I know Ava is incredibly unique—kind, intelligent, and strong-willed. Yet, I often feel there’s a disconnect between how I perceive her and how she sees herself.
But something remarkable happened in that boutique. For a fleeting moment, the gap between our perceptions closed. I can’t claim that the princess makeover fundamentally altered Ava’s self-image, nor can I relax my role in nurturing her confidence. I’m not even sure we would ever visit the Bibbidi Bobbidi Boutique again.
What I do know is that my heart soared as Ava experienced a newfound sense of self-worth. She saw something in herself that I had recognized since the day I first held her. And for that reason, I have no regrets about investing in her (rather costly) princess transformation.
For those navigating similar journeys, you might find it helpful to read more about family dynamics and support in our other blog post about navigating the challenges of parenthood. Additionally, for insightful resources on fertility and insemination, visit CDC’s site or check out Justice’s articles for expert advice.
In summary, the experience of giving my daughter a princess makeover at Disneyland turned out to be more than just a lavish expense; it became a heartfelt moment that deepened our bond and allowed Ava to embrace her specialness in a way that I hope will resonate with her for years to come.