The moment people think of it as a rite of passage, as something that will change their lives for the better, is the same moment it becomes overrated.
MANILA, Philippines - A common cause of cat fights among the girls in my childhood was who should play princess. At the time, this role seemed important because only the princess got to wear a floral crown made of red santan and a grown-up bathrobe that faintly smelled of mothballs. By default, I was mediator of these arguments since I seemed to be the only one not keen on playing the part.
My dream was always to be the Evil Queen, precisely because she got to order people around, and it surprised me that every time I fell in line for what I believed to be the most crucial role, there would be no other hopeful trailing behind. Later I learned that it’s not the role that most girls want, but the chance to act like a real lady, a desire met by wearing something long and flowing. In the real world, this happens at proms where girls are required to wear dresses and gowns they can sway in. And since in fancy occasions like this the Evil Queen is never welcome, I decided to ditch prom.
“What’s wrong with you?†my friends demanded when they first learned about my plan. Even my teachers asked if I had problems I wanted to discuss with them, like choosing not to go to the prom was an early sign of some serious psychiatric issue. I mostly just shrugged because playing DotA with cousins visiting from the US — my real reason for not wanting to attend prom — just doesn’t sound legit enough. At some point, of course, they gave up trying to convince me to go, but not without taking a last jab. “You will regret it,†one of my friends threatened. And I was scared that this decision would haunt me for the rest of my life. I sat myself down to think about the seemingly stupid choice I was about to make. Why does anyone ever go to prom?
For some people, prom seems to be a culmination of their teenage years, or a debut of some sort. It’s supposed to be the night when after years of waiting, the ducklings finally turn into swans. For a few precious hours, people are not in overworked uniforms carrying a whiff of academic fatigue about them. Eyebags and dark circles are temporarily gone, all blemishes reminiscent of school stress and adolescence concealed. Boys who can’t solve simple trigonometry problems suddenly look incredibly attractive in suits and ties, and the Plain Janes of the campus are now real ladies donning figure-forming gowns, showing off puberty’s gifts. For one night everyone and everything looks perfect, and they can hold hands and dance to good music pretending that this is the first time they’re doing this.
But these things, no matter how magical, are not for everyone. There are people who would rather stay at home, play computer games, and dance with Ben & Jerry instead of real boys (e.g. me). There is nothing wrong with prom per se, but the moment people think of it as a rite of passage, as something that will finally change their lives for the better — therefore justifying the need to wear expensive designer gowns and an offensive amount of makeup — is the same moment it becomes overrated. The most momentous events in life usually happen outside grandiose ballrooms, rarely welcomed with giddy anticipation.
Now it’s prom season again, and some people might think they have better plans, wondering if ditching the prom is worth it. I believe that the answer to this depends on the ultimate reason of one’s choice not to go. I’ll never say that I was always resolutely pleased with my decision not to attend prom. In fact, days after the event, I still feared that I had made a wrong decision, that every time someone made a reference to anything prom, I would feel helplessly out of place. But eventually these worries went away because I know I missed prom not to be angst-y cool but to have a great time with relatives who were with me for only a limited period of time.
When I saw my friends the Monday after prom, things were surprisingly the same. Except for a few anecdotes, prom wasn’t even a big topic at the lunch table. There were more urgent concerns like long tests and oral exams, worries which to the prom-goers’ dismay never went away. No one among my friends felt like their lives had changed, not even the girls who talked and danced with the cutest heartthrobs. All of them still felt and looked the same, except maybe their eyebrows had finally been plucked.
It has been five years since I chose to miss prom. I’ve been racking my brain to spot even a tiny tinge of prom-related remorse in the last half decade, but it seems to me that the only regret I have is that unlike my friends, I have no embarrassing prom stories to tell. Then again, college quickly made up for that.