I don’t think the fact that I’m a “Barbie girl” comes as a surprise to most. I’m a blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl who loves romantic comedies, pearls, and Lilly Pulitzer. As the youngest of four daughters, I grew up “a Barbie girl, in a Barbie world.” Come Christmas each year, I had a tree in my room decorated entirely in Barbies, and I still remember the feeling of complete excitement when my oldest sister gave me a three-story Barbie dream house one Christmas morning. The house was just about as tall as my six-year-old frame, and the elevator and second level patio were enough to keep me entertained until my next Barbie-filled Christmas the following year.

Barbie gets a bad rep for setting unattainable beauty standards for girls, but for many little girls, Barbie’s appeal doesn’t come from her tiny waist and long legs. While I wouldn’t mind having perfectly windblown hair and growing old (but not looking it) in a “dream house” with some version of a “Ken,” her good looks and successful love life weren’t what attracted me to Barbie. When I strutted down the Barbie aisle trying to decide which Barbie to buy that day, my choice never revolved around which doll looked the most flawless or had the cutest pink dress (although having a cute dress definitely didn’t hurt). As odd as it may sound, Barbie is a career woman, and my choice always revolved around which career excited me the most that day. Dr. Barbie, lawyer Barbie, vet Barbie, chef Barbie, or even rock star Barbie… there was never a career that I could think of that didn’t have a corresponding Barbie. Barbie was the doll that could be absolutely anything that I could think of.

My roommate and I frequently use the term “boss lady” to describe women who are unapologetically themselves and often hold a position of power in the workplace, whatever field she may be in. Barbie is a boss, but she’s also a lady, so there’s nothing wrong with her succeeding in her career all while wearing a perfectly accessorized outfit. When I was little, I wanted to grow up to be like Barbie, and honestly a large part of me still does. I wouldn’t mind being successful in my career all while being known as the woman who showed up to work each day in a trendy outfit and a killer ponytail.

Is Barbie’s waist smaller than a girl’s should ever be? Definitely, but Barbie is a doll, not a real girl. Since when are dolls made to look like real girls anyways? Bratz dolls’ feet come off with their shoes. The point of Barbie isn’t that everyone needs six foot legs and unrealistic waist sizes, but instead that girls can grow up to dress well, have a good looking man on their arm, raise a family, and be successful in their field of work. If years from now my life turns out to be anything like Barbie’s, I will consider it a success, and even further down the road if I have a little girl who reaches for a Barbie in the toy aisle, I certainly won’t discourage it. What better way for a little girl to grow up than with an example that proves she can be anything she dreams to be?

Shoutout to the new Barbie commercial that highlights Barbie’s role in teaching girls that they can be anything they set their mind to: