I've been thinking a lot lately about my future. Where am I going? What am I going to do? What do I want? I think children have been getting shafted for decades, especially girls. We are taught to put up with bullshit. We are told that if we wish and hope some handsome man will ride up in his white limo and rescue us from our drudgery. That is a load of shit.
The truth is there's no fairy godmother, no magic, no bippity bobbity fucking boop! It's taken 40 years, but I've come to realize that I'm on my own. Sure, I still dream, but it's just that a fantasy. I don't really expect it to come true. There is no brave, handsome stranger to come rescue my from my demons. I need to rescue myself. But, let's face it, that shit is hard. Hence my 6 suicide attempts. I'm tired of falling on my face on to concrete. I'm battered, bruised and extremely exhausted. I'm also a little angry. Ok, I'm a lot angry.
There are times I look at people out in the world and wonder why they seem to have it together and I don't. I know I'm not supposed to compare myself to anyone else, but it's pretty much impossible when every other commercial is telling you to dye your hair, extend your eyelashes, and have wrinkle free skin. Try this product and you'll have clear glowing skin! Make your hair shinier! Lose those unwanted pounds in 30 days! There are good arguments to take care of your skin, hair and lose weight, but all those commercials tell you that you will be a better person if you use their products. You'll get a handsome, rich husband, and you'll live in the perfect small town in a million dollar home. Your kids will be perfect, and you'll be thrilled every time your dishes are sparkling clean.
I will admit, I am a little happier when my house is clean. It's not because of the joy of cleaning. It's because I am a person that needs some control over the external chaos from the world. If things are tidy and in their place, I can relax and not feel so hectic inside. Where is my Prince Charming when I need to take the trash out or fix my car? Nope, I have to lug my garbage to the dumpster, and rely on some stranger to fix my car without ripping me off.
You know, I've thought about it, and I don't want the prince. I want the guy who keeps his limo running smoothly. A man who knows what a fuel injector is and how to maintain it. I'd even take the gardener that keeps his gardens looking beautiful. In short, I'd like a blue color guy. You know like a butcher or chef, a mechanic like my dad. But lo, most women want a guy who makes the big bucks and has to work 70 hours a week. Where's the fun in that? You never see him. There's always an emergency and he has to cancel plans with his family at the last minute.
Don't get me wrong, I'd like a guy to have money. I like nice things as much as the next girl, but I'd like to see my man on a regular basis. I'd like to see him home with me at night. We could have fun just sitting at home on the couch watching a movie. I don't need to jet to Greece for the weekend. I'm a pretty simple girl. Some words of affirmation, affection and I'm good to go. Throw in a few gifts once in a while, and I'm ecstatic.
Why did those stories get written anyway? I suppose because women were only good for housekeeping and having babies. It was to make poor women feel like they had a chance for better life, which could be accomplished with a well made match. Fuck that! I wish somebody would tell me I had to marry some jerk just to expand the family prospects. Well, that's all a moot point as I am a spinster. I may get married one day, but I'm not going to hold my breath. '
If you take a look at fairytales, they were kind of stupid. Snow White got poisoned and died before her prince came and kissed her awake. She had never met the man, and all of a sudden she's riding off to his castle in the sky. How do we know his intentions were good? Maybe he was a serial killer. Don't get me started on Cinderella. All that girl wanted to do was go to a party, and she's stalked by some dude who didn't even know her name. It all came down to who's foot fit the slipper. You're telling me, no one else wore her size? What a load of crap!
One of the most recurring themes in most fairytales, especially in Disney films, is the tragic death of a parent. The child is then left to grief and subject to abuse by a caregiver. Then, when the villains get their comeuppance, the hero/heroine forgives them. I suppose that's the healthy thing to do. Forgiveness does help one move on, but I'd give them a taste of their own medicine first. Then banish them from my kingdom.
My life has been nowhere near a fairytale. My innocence was stolen from me. I had to stop believing in them. My soul was fractured into so many pieces, it looks like some sort of ugly quilt. Do I regret it? In a way no, because I am who I am because of my circumstances. But then, I think of what might have been if my life hadn't been turned asunder, my brain chemistry and cognitive functions altered.
Now, I face the difficult task of reprogramming my brain and erasing 57 years of warped thinking. I have to constantly remind myself that I am okay. I'm a good person with value. I look in the mirror, and don't see a princess. I don't see the monster I used to see either. However, if I concentrate very hard, I can imagine a crown. The crown of a queen.
Peace, Love, Joy - B
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