Greta Gerwig’s ‘Barbie’ Inspired Moving Discussion at First ‘Spiritual But Not Anxious’ Course
- Darrell Smith
- 4 days ago
- 3 min read
We had quite the experience with this dialogue exercise at the first-ever gathering for the new Spiritual But Not Anxious course.
First, we watched America Ferrara’s iconic speech from Barbie (2023).
(Speech Transcript)
It is literally impossible to be a woman.
You are so beautiful, and so smart,
and it kills me that you don't think you're good enough.
Like, we have to always be extraordinary, but somehow we're always doing it wrong.
You have to be thin, but not too thin. And you can never say you want to be thin.
You have to say you want to be healthy, but also you have to be thin.
You have to have money, but you can't ask for money because that's crass.
You have to be a boss, but you can't be mean.
You have to lead, but you can't squash other people's ideas.
You're supposed to love being a mother,
but don't talk about your kids all the damn time.
You have to be a career woman but also always be looking out for other people.
You have to answer for men's bad behavior, which is insane,
but if you point that out, you're accused of complaining.
You're supposed to stay pretty for men,
but not so pretty that you tempt them too much
or that you threaten other women
because you're supposed to be a part of the sisterhood.
But always stand out and always be grateful.
But never forget that the system is rigged.
So find a way to acknowledge that but also always be grateful.
You have to never get old, never be rude, never show off, never be selfish,
never fall down, never fail, never show fear, never get out of line.
It's too hard! It's too contradictory and nobody gives you a medal or says thank you!
And it turns out in fact that not only are you doing everything wrong,
but also everything is your fault.
I'm just so tired of watching myself and every single other woman
tie herself into knots so that people will like us.
And if all of that is also true for a doll just representing women,
then I don't even know.
Next, using the amazing writing of Greta Gerwig and Noah Baumbach as a guide, we read a “religious anxiety” rewrite of that speech.
It is literally impossible to be a human in this faith.
You are supposed to believe that you are wonderfully made in the image of God,
and yet somehow wake up believing that God can’t stand to look at you.
We’re told we matter so much that the hairs on our head are numbered—
but only if we repent and submit correctly.
You have to be pure, but not ignorant.
Yet you can never say “I don’t know.”
You must “always be prepared to give a defense of your faith.”
You’re supposed to want marriage, but not more than you want God.
You’re supposed to want children, but only after marriage,
and then you’re supposed to pour yourself out completely—
but don’t lose your joy.
And definitely don’t complain.
You have to be content, but also constantly improving.
You’re supposed to sacrifice, but call it service.
You’re supposed to give everything away—
your time, your ambition, your anger, your questions—
and then thank God for the opportunity.
You’re supposed to be set apart, but never stand out.
Humble, but inspirational.
Quiet, but joyful.
Obedient, but somehow fulfilled.
You can’t be angry. You can’t doubt.
You can’t say, “This hurts,” without being told to pray harder.
And always grateful.
Grateful for the rules, grateful for the limitations, grateful that God knows better than you do—
even when it costs you your voice, your safety, yourself.
It’s exhausting. It’s contradictory.
And there’s no medal, no acknowledgment.
Just the constant suspicion that if something is wrong,
it must be your faith, your heart, your failure.
Somehow, after all of that, you’re still told that you’re the problem.
You are “inherently sinful.”
I am so tired of watching people shrink themselves, silence themselves,
twist themselves into holy knots just to be considered okay with God.
And if all of that is supposed to be “good news,”
then I don't even know.
As with the original, we laughed, cried, cheered, raised our fists in defiance, and hung our heads in exhaustion. If you have the time to give it a read, let us know what you would add to the rant.
Thanks again to the brilliant filmmakers and actors that inspired us — including our own John Boyd, who helped us act it out in the room!
Join the dialogue! Grab your copy of Spiritual But Not Anxious here.
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