I never thought I would write a piece titled “Barbie” for what is essentially my backpacking blog, but here I am, talking about the Barbie movie directed by Greta Gerwig.

Last night around 9:30 I found myself quiet-crying in the Majestic—our local theatre. Silent though my tears were, my cry was full-bodied, reaching from the tips of my toes to the crown of my head. The muscles between my ribs and in my diaphragm itched to heave and I realized I did not give a f*ck anymore, so I let them. The ache in the back of my throat from holding tears at bay for the last hour and a half finally relaxed.

I yanked my hood up to shield my face as we entered the bright lobby.

“I think I am just really tired",” I offered to Logan as an explanation.

But it was more than that.

Minutes before leaving, I had looked over at the woman next to me—who I initially supposed to be a child, registering her small stature only from the corner of my eye—she was, apparently, a mother, with children of her own sitting next to her. She looked back at me with wild eyes, stricken with emotion, cheeks shiny with tears. I couldn’t bring myself to say anything except mouth the words “I know, I know”, before aggressively wiping away my own tears and turning away.

If you haven’t seen Barbie, you need to go watch it.

If you saw Barbie and didn’t “get it”, thought it was stupid, felt attacked by it, or aren’t open to adopting a new perspective, we can’t be friends, period.

Prior to actually seeing Barbie, I read reviews & opinion pieces, and I watched countless Instagram Reels detailing people’s reactions to the movie. I was floored by the supportive reactions of many dads, who were totally enthralled by the movie and wrote lengthy, positive reviews about all aspects of the film.

I was not surprised by the people who claimed the film put them to sleep, or complained that it would brainwash young people into thinking… for themselves?

My curiosity over the film reached an all-time high yesterday, lining up nicely with $5 Tuesdays at the local theatre, so I bought tickets online for Logan and I and we went.

We thought it would be a quiet midweek night at the movies, but no.

There was a sign out front which read, “Barbie—SOLD OUT” and a line of people out the door, some in sparkly pink outfits, others dressed casually, mothers and fathers shepherding hoards of kids; there were teens on dates, and individuals apparently alone. The movie had been out for over 2 weeks—since July 21st—and still, it was selling out at our tiny local theatre in Crested Butte.

I looked at Logan with wide eyes, “I’m glad I bought our tickets online.”

When the movie began in matriarchal Barbieland, amid a neighborhood of pink plastic Dream Houses and glittery-turquoise swimming pools the barbies could walk across with their perfectly tip-toed, heel-clad feet, I suppressed a groan. Barbie drank from a cup full of air, stood under a shower that didn’t shower, and used a plate to deftly catch toast she didn’t actually eat.

Barbie was played by Margot Robbie, and Ken, who was completely personality-deprived and who’s self-worth hinged entirely on Barbie noticing him, was played by Ryan Gosling.

I should mention that there were many Barbies and many Kens all played by different actors, but essentially each the same character repeated ad nauseam.

One day, though, all is not perfect in Barbieland; Stereotypical Barbie (Margot Robbie) starts thinking about death, gets a patch of cellulite on her thigh, and then she becomes “flat-footed”—godforbid.

On the advise of her friends, she goes to see Weird Barbie, played by Kate McKinnon, a drawn-on, crazy haired Barbie who’s constantly in the splits.

Weird Barbie sends Stereotypical Barbie on a grand adventure to the Real World to find the girl who is “playing” with her and help her to not be so depressed, in the hopes that this will fix Barbie’s feet and get rid of her cellulite.

When Barbie gets to the Real World (aka Los Angeles), she finds herself being ogled by men, experiences feelings of fear and sorrow, cries for the first time ever, gets her feelings hurt by an angry tween (Ariana Greenblatt), and then meets the depressed woman who was playing with her all along (America Ferrera)—the mother of the angry tween.

Stereotypical Barbie is horrified to see that Barbie Dolls haven’t actually fixed all things for all women in the real world; women are not in power or empowered like they are in Barbieland, and it is all because of this horrible, insidious social structure called “the Patriarchy”, which Ken is enthralled with because—oh yeah—he snuck into the Barbie Convertible against Barbie’s wishes to join her on her quest.

At this point, as Barbie and Ken are rollerblading down the boardwalk at Venice Beach I. Am. In. Tears.

Barbie is experiencing a crucial moment of disillusionment; for the first time she is suffering something most real women deal with on a daily basis—objectification. She even notes the undertone of violence in the stares she is receiving from the men around her, while Ken feels perfectly at ease and is just stoked to be noticed at all.

Her journey continues to take a turn for the worse when the all-male team at Mattel tries to “put her back in her box” and, by the time she and her new friends Gloria and Sasha (the mother-daughter duo) return to Barbieland, Ken has beaten her home and turned the whole place into a Patriarchal society.

I won’t tell you exactly how order is restored, but I will say that America Ferrera as Gloria gives an unforgettably honest speech about the crushing weight of unrealistic expectations that women are forced to function beneath on a daily basis.

Cut to a poignant scene where Barbie and the ghost of Ruth Handler, the creator of Barbie Dolls and played by Rhea Perlman, have a moment together in a phantasmagoric “in-between” space, where Barbie tells Ruth she doesn’t feel like Barbie anymore, that she isn’t the best at any one thing like all the other Barbies. And that she wants to be human.

Ruth tells Barbie her future has always been hers to create.

I was choking so thoroughly on tears at this point that I almost missed the joke at the end—Barbie going to the Gynecologist in the Real World and being excited about it—but somehow that just made me cry even harder.

Maybe I was just overly tired, maybe I had had a hard day, maybe I had just started my period a week early (again) and was feeling emotional, or—

Maybe I am a human, having a human experience, and the Barbie movie gave voice to every frustration, hurt, and slight I have experienced as a woman, everything that makes it harder to succeed, harder to be taken seriously, harder to be heard, harder to be respected, harder to be seen for who I am and not just what I am.

Being a woman makes so many things so much harder, and yet we continue to be completely amazing—achieving 10X more than many of our male counterparts who, quite simply, have much less on their plates.

Margot Robbie is one of the most beautiful women—probably in the world—and she is the “perfect” Barbie, but even Barbie didn’t feel good enough as she sat on the floor with her flat feet and minuscule patch of cellulite. Gloria points out how crazy that is, while also acknowledging that Barbie’s feelings of self-deficit are relatable for all women.

Enough is never enough when you are a woman. Enough is the limit which does not exist, and we waste so much time and energy stepping on each other, trying to reach it.

When you are a woman, you carry so much more than your fair share. Women are owed respect for doing it all while carrying everything.

Believe it or not I am going to tie all of this into ultralight backpacking.

Carrying less has always been the point for me—less gear, less weight, less grief, less anxiety, less depression, less of my past, less of my shame, less of my regret, fewer insecurities, fewer doubts—and traveling further.

It’s amazing how much ground you can cover—how much you can achieve—when the weight of the world isn’t pressing you into the dirt, reminding you at every turn of all the ways your gender makes you inadequate or weak in the patriarchal Real World.

No, I don’t get to leave my gender behind when I go out into the mountains with my backpack, and some person or situation is gaurenteed to remind me of my womanhood in a negative way while I am walking.

BUT.

The real gift of ultralight backpacking is that I pack my pack, I get to decide what I bring and what I leave behind, what I am willing to carry and what I simply won’t.

It is easier in the mountains, to carry less and go further. It is easier to embody the “who” and leave behind the “what”.

I hope everyone sees Barbie.

I hope everyone walks into the theatre with an open mind and feels something when they watch this movie. Maybe then people will come to understand that the world would be better off with more women politicians, more women doctors, more women CEOs, more women business owners, scientists, engineers, policy makers—more women making decisions for the good of the whole.

But just in case you don’t go see the movie, I will end with the words that made me cry the hardest:

“It is literally impossible to be a woman. You are so beautiful and so smart, and it kills me that you don't think you're good enough. Like, we have to always be extraordinary, but somehow we're always doing it wrong. You have to be thin, but not too thin. And you can never say you want to be thin. You have to say you want to be healthy, but also you have to be thin. You have to have money, but you can't ask for money because that's crass. You have to be a boss, but you can't be mean.

“You have to lead, but you can't squash other people's ideas. You're supposed to love being a mother but don't talk about your kids all the damn time. You have to be a career woman, but also always be looking out for other people. You have to answer for men's bad behavior, which is insane, but if you point that out, you're accused of complaining.

“You're supposed to stay pretty for men, but not so pretty that you tempt them too much or that you threaten other women because you're supposed to be a part of the sisterhood. But always stand out and always be grateful. But never forget that the system is rigged. So find a way to acknowledge that but also always be grateful. You have to never get old, never be rude, never show off, never be selfish, never fall down, never fail, never show fear, never get out of line. It's too hard! It's too contradictory and nobody gives you a medal or says thank you!

“And it turns out in fact that not only are you doing everything wrong, but also everything is your fault. I'm just so tired of watching myself and every single other woman tie herself into knots so that people will like us. And if all of that is also true for a doll just representing women, then I don't even know” —Gloria (America Ferrera)

I don’t know either.

I made the artwork in this post using photos I have taken and then edited with ProCreate. Two of the photos which feature me, were captured by my friends.