We all know this trope, right? And can agree that it’s tired, hopefully.
If you’ve been living under a lovely rock for the last couple of decades, the Manic Pixie Dream Girl is a girl who basically exists to help make sure that the male main character can continue to develop his character in better ways.
She’s different and quirky. She is somewhat naïve and youthful, while also being deep and thoughtful. She is blissfully in her own world and above all of the tragic makings of standard youthful life. Sound familiar? Yeah, it does, because a whole lot of autistic women also fall into this kind of category.
Sweet! Right? Positive association with autistic women and all? Nah, not really. The problem is that this character is a half-assed character that never actually exists as anything except to make the dude better. She’s a fantasy as much as pretty much any other trope commonly seen in the media is a fantasy.
On top of that, she is completely unrealistic, since, you know, she isn’t a full person and pretty much only exists to act as a counterpart to the male lead.
While this trope is, thankfully, mostly dead, the damage has still been done to autistic women everywhere. So many of our peers saw these films with these dream girls and as a result, so many of our male peers began to see these traits as desirable in partners. Doesn’t sound too bad, overall, until you remember that the dream girl isn’t real. She has all of the fun-loving “quirks” of an autistic woman with none of the reality of an autistic woman.
It put so much of a responsibility on the autistic woman to be the magic key that fixes everything that was wrong with the jaded boy without paying any attention at all to the fact that the Manic Pixie has her own issues, and her own troubles and she can’t really afford to be some dude’s everything that pieces him back together.
Hell, I fit this mold so well in my younger life that even I embraced it, despite how much harm it was doing for me. I helped inspire and be the muse for past lovers, pushing them to better themselves and embrace their dreams, all while I was doing drudging crap like working at a Starbucks (which, no shade, I honestly enjoyed) instead of following my own dreams.
It was what I was supposed to do, right? Help my lovers grow into better people?
The problem is that at the end of the day, after helping change view points or follow their dreams, there was hardly any energy left for me. And that’s typically why so many of those relationships were so short lived.. Just like this trope is portrayed on screen. She flits in to make things better and then peaces out when the man can handle things on his own — just the ideal way to make her something worth missing.
Perhaps, it’s why that one line from Rent came to mean something to me:
Life’s too short, babe, time is flying. I’m looking for baggage that goes with mine
I spent so long being “forced” by my lovers into a role that was impossible to play, that I struggled so hard to play, that I had forgotten to take care of my own shit.
Eventually I learned to put up some boundaries, to remember that it’s not possible to be the Manic Pixie because she’s not real. And that my role in life is not to stand quietly (albeit in my own quirky way) behind a man empowering him, but to empower myself and find a love that will be empowered through my own power.