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Well done! I appreciated how you threaded your personal experience, the Disney version and the original Anderson version of the story. You've inspired me to research what Carl Jung's analysis was and how he views the archetypes. I can only imagine it is more empowering than the Disney message.

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Hi Paulette, thanks so much for spending time to read this piece. I'm very interested in what you find out about Carl Jung's analysis of The Little Mermaid, if it exists. A while ago I took a class by a Jungian psychoanalyst on her interpretation of The Snow White in the context of a narcissistic mother. It was fascinating!!!

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If I find anything I’ll let you know. And Snow White from a Jungian perspective had to be so interesting and insightful. I look forward to reading more of your writing.

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Thank you! Keep me posted! I'm fascinated by archetypes and their applications in our own lives :-)

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Great take on a story whose message is, to me, a bit insidious. Even in the Disney version, to give up one's voice is no small thing--certainly nothing we should be encouraging little girls to aspire to. And I really enjoyed being taken back through the original Hans Christian Andersen, alongside its parallels to your own stories and that of others. Thanks for sharing, my friend!

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Insidious is the right word, and why is such a message tolerated even? I'm glad you enjoyed reading Andersen's original story line along with my own stories. I appreciate your taking the time to read and comment on this.

I didn't find a good place within the essay to mention the theories surrounding Andersen's "hidden" intent. According to some scholars, he was trying to covertly express his romantic longing for another man, Edvard Collin (who was engaged with a woman at the time The Little Mermaid was written). Because homosexual love was forbidden, he used the fairy tale as an allegory of his life and his love for Collin (he sent Collin the original story and hinted his love for him in his letters.) If that's true, then the Little Mermaid's muteness may actually be a mirror of Andersen's inability to express his love for Collin in public.

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So interesting.

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Hey Louisa, thanks for sharing this take on The Little Mermaid. I read it as soon as it came up in my inbox! I appreciate the depth of your analysis and love your take on the importance of maintaining your voice and authenticity in relationships. Thank you also for bravely sharing your past with a covert narcissist, sexual trauma, and growing up in dysfunction. I'm so sorry you had to experience any of this, and especially so when trying to fit in as an immigrant on foreign land. I can sympathise with your take on the story, having seen a few of my friends lose themselves in romantic relationships where there was a serious power imbalance and betrayal. For the sake of love and to keep up the mirage of peace, they lost their voice and so much more. The healing journey has been long and tough.

I had some compromising relationships in my 20's but thankfully it was never long-term. I never felt trapped but have experienced betrayal and the degradation of my self-worth resulting in people-pleasing. It's only in retrospect and with more emotional maturity do I realise how much I sacrificed to be accepted or to earn my worth in those relationships. I'm grateful to be married to someone who sees my potential and empowers my voice (he's a big reason why I'm even writing in the first place). For this reason, I didn't see Prince Eric as Ariel's greatest threat, rather, it was her own immaturity, teenage impulsivity and unwillingness to hear warnings from her father. Having been the rebellious run-away daughter in my past life, I relate to these characteristics a lot.

My take on Disney's Ariel is that she made her own empowered choice to rebel against her dad and to sacrifice for love (with major consequences). To be fair, Triton came off a little dismissive and heavy-handed, but his intentions were good, and he proved his love for Ariel through personal sacrifice. Growing up, my father was the same - demanding unconditional obedience with little empathy or reasoning. Now that I have my own daughter, I can sympathise with his approach and trust he had good intentions even if heavy-handed. In the end, both Ariel and Triton sacrificed for the person they loved most, and there are important lessons to be learned from both characters.

Thanks again for sharing this reflection and for allowing us to share as well. All the best in your healing journey and reclaiming your voice! Keep writing! :)

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Heidi, thanks so much for taking the time to share your own experience, insights, and observations of your friends. I also appreciate your elaboration of the story line in the Disney version, with the father Triton playing such a prominent role in Ariel's life. In a way, I see this father-daughter dynamic in my own experience, too, with my father being extremely protective and thus disapproving of my choice of husband. The lessons you gleaned from this aspect of the film are important and inform your own parenting.

In my analysis, I actually don't see the prince as a threat to the Little Mermaid. It's the real-life narcissist partners whom I see as a threat to women's well-being!

I'm very happy for you that your husband has encouraged you to use your voice and write! It's wonderful and precious to have a supportive partner who's genuinely concerned with your growth. Write on!

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You're welcome, and thanks for hearing me out. I realise I ended up writing an essay, but I really enjoyed this piece and it prompted so many thoughts. If you're comfortable sharing - how is your relationship with your father now? Have your perspectives on his parenting style and over-protectiveness changed?

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The parallels you point out are interesting. It made me realize my first husband was a vulnerable narcissist. He was white and I took his last name, so when I’d show up for appointments, people would be surprised because they expected a white woman. It made me realize I gave up a large part of my identity. I kept my name the second time around!

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Sep 8·edited Sep 8Author

Hi Barb, thanks for your comment. This thing about narcissists is so tricky. The vulnerable type is usually a “covert” narcissist, which makes it super hard to even detect while you’re being manipulated within the relationship. This was the case for both my ex-husband and ex-partner. I totally agree that taking on the husband’s last name can make us feel like we’ve lost a big part of our identity. There’s been discussions within feminist forums about this practice. For me, even though Chinese women don’t usually take on their husbands’ last name, I added my ex-husband’s last name to my own (which became the middle name). Interestingly, I believe it helped me secure a job in a covertly racist society (Sweden). After my divorce, I reverted back to my original name. BTW, thanks for letting me know that you haven’t heard or seen The Little Mermaid. I realize that I’ve made the wrong assumption. But I’m glad that you found this analysis of interest to you!

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Yes, it was very interesting!

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Thanks again! And I'm so glad you left your narcissistic first husband!

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It’s only now I realize how covert he was. He played on my sympathies because he had one eye and “lacked” the confidence to get a job. So I was the only one working while he smoked weed all day. Good riddance!

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Oh dear! Yes, that sounds straight from the narcissistic playbook for the covert/vulnerable type narcissist! My ex really didn't have any excuse except for his "passion" to compose music and drink alcohol all day. But definitely played on my sympathies for his childhood trauma. I was also the breadwinner. Good riddance indeed!

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P.S. - I’ve never seen or read The Little Mermaid.

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