By Samantha P, staff writer
While mom was working her 12-hour shift, I stayed home playing alone with my Monster High dolls. I grew up alone, staying in my parent’s room, playing with my dolls, and making up new stories. I would cuddle up with them, whenever my mom would go to work, they were the only comfort I had. Any time I felt lonely or sad, they were there. They made me feel happy, it was like having an actual person join my life; the family that I created in my own little 3-year-old mind.
I first got into Monster High because of my cousin Whitney. Whenever I would come over to her house we would play with her dolls together, since I didn’t have my own. One time when we were playing with dolls, she showed me, Frankie. I loved her design. It was unique and it was way different than the other dolls we would play with. We then went to the living room, apparently, they had movies of these monster-like dolls. As we watched, I was so fascinated by the character design, the plot, and the animation, basically everything about them.
Then in one of the scenes, Clawdeen showed up, and, “oh my goodness”. I loved her design. She was perfect. I liked how independent she was, bold, and did not fear being her “Spooky” self, she was everything I wanted to be when I was younger. When it was time for me to go home, I came out of my cousin’s house like a new person. The minute I got into my mom’s car, I asked my mom if she could get a Monster High doll.
Having Clawdeen made me feel so much joy. I thought she was so cool since she was described as the fashionable one in the movies. She was my favorite doll and my best friend. I would tell her everything, and sometimes it felt like she was actually listening to me.
I would take her everywhere, the park, the mall, even church. I’d show her off to my cousins, my mom’s co co-workers, and even her boss. I loved spending every minute of the day with her. I loved her. I guess in a way she was my first love. But it wasn’t that cringe type of romantic love, but a comforting love. Clawdeen made me feel safe; she comforted me.
But as I got older, the more Clawdeen and I became more distant. I still loved her, but it’s not like I was taking her everywhere with me. I’d stay to play with her and my other dolls but whenever my cousins would come over, they’d make fun of me for playing with them.
It would make me feel embarrassed and kind of ashamed that a soon-to-be 5th grader was still playing with her dolls. I remember a time when I cried in front of my cousins because they were making fun of me for playing with my dolls; the more I cried the more they would laugh at me. I got sick and tired of being made fun of so I eventually stopped playing with my dolls.
Eventually, when I finally hit middle school, I stopped playing with them altogether. I started to like other things and eventually grow out of them. I would donate or give my cousins the things that I had that used to interest me and pass them down to them. I would clean up my room and re-decorate the room for the 100th time. There was a time when I was cleaning my room and organizing some stuff, I looked under my bed and saw the box that had all my dolls in, I got deja vu opening it up. It was like past memories of when I was kid, were all running through my mind. This still happens whenever I see it, I never have the courage to give them away and I know I never will. Any time I see her, Clawdeen. I smile, it’s like all the love I used to have for her comes back running as if I still deep down still loved her and maybe I still do.
