Some Day My Prince Will Come

I used to love watching Disney Princess movies, more for the songs than anything else. But when I watch them again, now that my mind is not so impressionable (or so I believe), a little angry feminist screams at every detail along the way. The Princess’ apparent fragility and lack of control over their own destiny only aids in the conditioning of young minds what a woman should be. I just needed to wait by my window and some day a knight in shining armor would help me escape from the cruelty of the world. A waiting game I fear my 30 year old sister continues to play, living encased in fantasy and missing out on true opportunity for happiness. This is of course why the Princess and the Frog movie switched it up, making the woman independently pursuing a dream. From waiting to pursuit, it’s a step in the right direction I guess, still off target since happiness and love do not have to be pursued. But that’s for another rant.

This is what we all hope for: the One. To love you no matter what, stand by you no matter what. I want to meet the manipulative businessman who implanted this idea in my mind. The writers of fairy tales. Read the REAL versions of those fairy tales, like the true story of the Three Little Pigs where the Wolf only wanted to borrow a cup of sugar. The transition seems to be heading toward new perspectives on classic tales like Into the Woods and Wicked. Those original tales are excellent starting points, lessons that will expand and be amended with experience. But do some of these generic ideas continue to govern how we approach issues like relationships? Does that foundation never get remodeled?

Absence, An Origin Story

A being existed in emptiness. Alone. Drifting weightlessly. He did not know he was a human being, nor comprehend what a label entailed. Never seeing or understanding his body, its parts, their purposes and capabilities. His senses were useless. He would not know to move because he had never seen his limbs, nor had he the resistance of ground to press against. He didn’t know to cry for attention because he was unaware another being might exist to answer. He did not acknowledge need.

Building a Mystery

(Play song by Sarah McLachlan)

I always figured my wife was crazy. As a young man, I was cautioned about the wiles of a woman, their tendencies to gossip and play tricks. When she and I first started dating she’d over analyze some small, seemingly unimportant thing, like something I said in passing. She searches for meaning in the slightest shift of my eyes, the subconscious expressions of my face, the barely audible changes in my tone of voice. One look of mine can somehow be interpreted in a variety of ways.