Fairytales ruined me. I know. Sounds crazy right? But it's true. It's been a real blow to the child in me. She literally aches at the thought that life isn't all music, romance and happily ever afters. It would've been nice if that were true, wouldn't it?
I keep thinking about how much of my childhood was centered around them. How my heart and mind simply had no choice but to believe. Not only did it tug on my love-loving heart strings, but I was raised in a home full of love. Parents who knew each other since the single digit ages and became highschool sweethearts. My family didn't have much in regards to money, yet there was no shortage of riches in other areas.
So, the fairytales became apart of me. As I lived in the puffy clouds of my innocence, they became engrained in the very fibers of the young girl, who would sing along, while dancing in her bedroom and dreaming of her own prince charming.
But, he never came. No guy ever fit the criteria, but I fell hard anyway. Wearing my heart on my sleeve lead to heartbreak after heartbreak. I became so good at it that it was like a part-time job that always ended in questions like...
What's wrong with me?
Why NOT me?
What can I do to keep him around?
How do I need to change?
How can I be better?
But there was nothing wrong with me.
There was nothing I needed to change or improve.
The reality was that I was young and literally living in a fantasy about what I thought love was. Believing that love was everything. That simply feeling that emotion could solve the wrongdoings of others. So blinded by thoughts of love being some superhero that could save me from a world full of people who were damaged and untrustworthy.
But I was the villain. I was the one damaging myself with my choices without even realizing it. My heart would break and I'd piece it together, sometimes with other's hands. With their words. With their promises that would end up broken, just like the blood-pumping organ in my chest.
Ironically, I mourned turning 30 when I was in the last months of my 29th year. I grieved because of my ignorance. The unknowledgable belief that this was simply a marker of my age, like a flag on the moon. I thought it would shine a light on what I'd feared, because I didn't realize how much I'd learn. How much I'd grow and heal. I couldn't see the woman I would become.
So as I approach my 34th birthday in under a month, I can't help but ponder where I once was. And with that, comes eternal gratitude for the movies and storybooks that live in the heart of the 7, 10, 14 year old me. I just now have the amazing ability to see it all, through an informed lens. One that says the things I read and watched aren't real. But this life is.
Although messy, scary and really fuckin painful at times, it's also incredibly beautiful and lovely. Filled with people full of awesome, intelligent minds and humors that make my cheeks hurt from laughing.
So I no longer want my prince charming to be like John Smith, The Beast, Aladdin or Prince Eric. He will be called Daddy in the privacy of our bedroom, Sir while on my knees and I will adore every cruel and loving thing he will bestow upon me, because each one is a gift to me. I will love him as a choice and not because its an expectation or a condition of my relationship. But it will be the foundation and fierceness behind my submission to him. My love and His, will be the sword in our stone. Meant for power and greatness, yet unmovable by anyone but He and I.
Ultimately, it doesn't find us. We create it by respecting each other and honoring the commitments we've made to one another. So yes, fairytales ruined me. But I've discovered a greater, more beautiful me because I've floated down from the clouds and live in the reality of now. In the moment with Him. No expectation of dream lands and I like it even more than the fantasy.