“I stole your childhood, and now I’ve led you by the hand to your death. But the worst thing is I knew. I knew this would happen, this is what always happens…I took you with me because I was vain, because I wanted to be adored; look at you, glorious Pond, the girl who waited for me. I’m not a hero. I really am just a madman in a box. And it’s time we saw each other as we really are. Amy Williams, it’s time to stop waiting.”
Amelia Pond, a girl with a name from a fairy tale. She loved the Doctor first, when he’d just regenerated so violently he crashed the Tardis. And the first act in the Doctor’s life was to “ruin” her. He turned the beautiful little girl into a grown up stripper with dysfunctional relationship skills.
Unlike many previous companions, this is the narrative of Amy’s life before she met the Doctor. Family, friends, job, home—all these things pale beside the effect her relationship with the Doctor had. Amy existed through that relationship, in which she was endlessly waiting, and only through that relationship.
Which led, obviously, to something the rather oblivious Doctor hadn’t anticipated—she decided the relationship was romantic and jumped him.
This is when Rory re-entered the story, hauled back in because the Doctor was scared of Amy. Rory served as a buffer, allowed the Doctor to keep his relationship with Amy from moving somewhere that scared him.
To the Doctor, Amy was eternally the little girl who made him bacon and toast. She was locked in that time and place, and he wanted them both to stay there, to “run away and have adventures.”
Amy’s time with the Doctor was repeatedly called a second childhood, an avoidance of growing up. Unlike other companions, who had lives lived in parallel to the Doctor, who had an established existence that kept their time with him from overwhelming everything about them, Amy was eternally trapped in the same relationship.
Except for Rory. Rory was always how Amy was supposed to “grow up.” He was her future, and when the Doctor left her he left without saying goodbye to Rory; rather, he left her to Rory.
Rory was never permanently altered by the Doctor. He died a dozen times or so, but he always came back the same old Rory. He was separate, and he was Amy’s separate life.
And so, Amy’s path was never her own. The two men she spent her time with were her life, her world, and all her choices were concerned solely with them. Decades in the future, she would choose to save Rory from losing her over her very existence.
Amy was often called things like “glorious Pond,” but it was all sleight of hand. She was helpless on her own, reduced to telling her infant daughter about the man who would come save her, to begging for mercy. She couldn’t even keep her marriage together without the Doctor, she couldn’t make a choice between realities when the Dream Lord took over without the choice becoming all about her marriage. Amy acted dominant, but she was never even close to being in charge. Hell, there was even a phase when the Doctor made a show of asking Rory permission to hug her.
And though Amy loved Rory, she was after a fashion addicted to her friendship with the Doctor. She always went with him, she always wanted to go off and have adventures. Amy and the Doctor’s relationship stalled when Amy was a little girl—he was always the raggedy man to her, a madman in a box, and she was always a little girl waiting for him.
To break this cycle, the Doctor surrendered his primacy in her life to Rory. That’s why the Ponds moved off the Tardis, became the first part-time companions. But even that wasn’t enough to give Amy her own story.
Amy got married, divorced, lost and gained her family, had two separate careers, a baby, and became barren. All of this happened to her, but it was never about her. It was about which man she was with, who was primary in her life. Amy didn’t just not own her story—the story was never really hers, it always belonged to a man.
And this held true to Amy’s heartbreaking departure, when she made a final and irrevocable choice to become “His Wife, Amelia Williams.” The iconic name “Pond” didn’t even appear on her gravestone. Amy’s final choice, her last farewell, was never about her own life—it was about which man she wanted to live with, the one in the Tardis or the one on earth. The choice always belonged to Amy, but Amy never got the chance to choose herself.