Disney Star to Pop Princess: Why Can’t People Cope with Sabrina Carpenter’s Transformation?

Photo Courtesy: Josh Hallett

Are some playful sexual innuendos really enough to cause controversy? When it comes to women who got their start during their childhood, without a doubt. The entertainment industry has long grappled with the infantilisation of female celebrities. Stars we grew up with are often trapped in the image crafted for them during their formative years, particularly those who began their careers under Disney’s umbrella. In the past, attempts to shed this manufactured innocence have either been dismissed as abrupt and controversial, like Miley Cyrus or Britney Spears’ highly publicized “breakdowns”, or tolerated as a slow evolution, such as Selena Gomez’s or Ariana Grande’s gradual ascents to adult stardom.

Sabrina Carpenter’s case, however, breaks this mould. Back in 2019, she sidestepped Disney’s record label, Hollywood Records, with much more ease than her predecessors, letting her craft her path on her own terms. Since then, her trajectory has been carefully orchestrated to avoid the reductive narrative of the ‘Disney to pop star’ pipeline. Nevertheless, much like the former child stars before her, she too has been constantly held under a microscope.

From her tongue-in-cheek Nonsense outros to her inventive sex positions in Juno, Carpenter’s new album Short n’ Sweet and ongoing tour embraces themes often deemed taboo for women in pop music. While explicit self-expression has been more normalized in genres like rap, pop stars, especially women, often face backlash for reclaiming their narratives in this way. Carpenter’s openness about her desires and autonomy has not only challenged industry norms, but also disrupted the rigid expectations placed on women, especially those with “wholesome” beginnings. Carpenter’s story is about more than breaking away from her Disney past; it’s about redefining herself as an artist. Her refusal to conform to unfair standards or dilute her vision is a refreshing act of individuality in an industry that  tries its best to stifle women.

The root of this discomfort lies in societal double standards. Female artists are frequently criticized for expressing their sexuality—a right often celebrated in their male counterparts. For former Disney stars, this backlash is amplified by the perception that they must remain paragons of innocence, as if their on-screen personas should dictate their off-screen identities. Carpenter, like others before her, has become a lightning rod for these misplaced frustrations. Parents often assume because of their Disney roots, these singers are safe for their pre-teen children, even toddlers, to listen to. But why is the blame then turned onto the popstar? Shouldn’t it be the parents’ responsibility to monitor their child’s internet consumption?

Nostalgia can be a powerful vice, often clouding otherwise sound judgement. Compounded with the toxicity of purity culture, unfairly policing women’s bodies and choices, the pushback against Carpenter’s transformation reflects less on her character and more on the audience’s discomfort with change. Perhaps it’s time we reconsider what we expect from the women who once occupied our screens and instead celebrate their ability to take control of their narratives, rather than critique their refusal to stay frozen in time.