In my mind, this post started out as a defense of Courtney Stodden, the 17-year-old girl who married 51-year-old sort-of-actor, Doug Hitchenson. She’s everywhere! She’s bizarre! She’s mostly naked! She’s MARRIED TO TOOMS. Last week, when she was asked to leave the pumpkin patch for “indecent behavior,” I started noticing articles popping up in my newfeeds. “Still no apology from Courtney Stodden,” they read. “Courtney Stodden says she didn’t do anything wrong,” they said. “HOW DARE COURTNEY STODDEN SPOIL THE MINDS OF OUR YOUTH AND SULLY THIS NATION!” they said.
Well. Did she? It irritates me that the very websites and magazines that decry her behavior and demand apologies for it are the the reason she’s doing this kind of crap in the first place. Wanna be famous? Be crazy! Stop wearing pants! Release a sex tape! Can we really blame her for trying to provide the media with the very insane, pantsless, scandalous photo ops that they are so thirsty for? The hypocrosy!
And then? And then I saw this little gem onThe Daily Beast yesterday. The article is approximately 78 pages long and at the very end, there is this quote from Courtney’s mother:
“The gay community has been so loving to her,” Keller says. “I know that Anna Nicole Smith had a great rapport with the gay community, and I think they’ve been waiting to have someone they can connect with, and I think Courtney is that person. She is different and stands out. Frankly, we thought she’d fit in better in Hollywood.”
Anna Nicole Smith! Yes! Yes, your daughter might just be the next Anna Nicole Smith. And we all know how well that ended.
Something clicked. Courtney Stodden is a teenage girl with a mother. A mother who signed some papers, allowed her to marry Tooms, and is hoping she stars in her own reality television show soon.
I. I just don’t know anymore. I have a daughter. She is five. The day she turned two, she woke up knowing the names of every single Disney Princess. She refused every item in the universe that was not pink; even food. She sings and dances all the time. A couple weeks ago, the only child at a housewarming party, she held five 20-somethings hostage as she performed her own special “ballet” to Pachabel’s Canon in D. The whole thing. It’s important for me to let her be who she is: Girly and pink and giggly. But it’s also my job (in my opinion) to round her out; to provide counterpoints. For every Princess book we read, we read a Harriet the Spy. I want her to have all sorts of different girls to look up to. Smart, pretty, kind, whatever. But also, I would like my daughter to live her entire life and not know who Anna Nicole Smith is, or to aspire to be anything like her.
So, Courtney? Are you out there? I’m thinking you should probably come over. I’ll make you a few sandwiches, we’ll read some Pippi Longstocking, we’ll watch Ramona and Beezus. Because as much as I like to snicker at your tweets and your hotpants and your photo shoots, I think you are in serious need of a mommy.
Mr. Courtney Stodden: Immortal, Contortionist, Sleeps in a Nest of Newspaper Strips and Bile
P.S. Please. Don’t bring Tooms.
About Kelly Q
