What a fairy tale

Photo from Betolandia's Flickr account 

Every girl wants to be a princess.

We all dream of wearing that diamond tiara, looking extra pretty every morning as we get our hair and make-up done and select from the widest array of gowns, shoes, and expensive jewelry. We can’t help wanting to be fawned over by millions, and of course, meet the most gorgeous Prince Charming, fall madly in love with each other, marry him, and live in the hugest, grandest castle in the midst of grassy lands occupied by extra friendly woodland creatures.

But no one said anything about what’s in store for us in the real world.

There are times when we unwillingly go through the day with bed hair gnarling our faces, or legs looking like that of gorillas’. We take a look at our tiny closets and wear sweatpants because nothing else fits or the rest of the prettiest clothes we own have already been worn. We walk along the streets, one face among a million others. We’re no special.

Or when we do feel special, our hearts get shattered; we feel abandoned and we shield ourselves for fear of the unknown. We deal with flaws and society’s never-ending demands and unreachable standards. We scrape our pockets for money to get us by, because nothing is ever enough. Everyday scenarios depict the opposite of what we wanted; the world, as it seems, is far from ideal. Sometimes, we don’t even think it’s possible to cope with the wicked world we once dreamed of being perfect.

Life, as it turns out, isn't the fairy tale we've always thought was meant for us.

But even if it isn’t at all glamorous, and even if we leave traces of broken hearts as we go by, we still have the courage to wish upon those gleaming stars hidden beneath the darkest skies. As we keep our masks on, there’s that hope of sparkling beauty in the midst of all that is treacherous, no matter how cynical we turn out to be because of what the world puts us through.

I guess at some point, we all wanted the life of a princess. But we’ve learned to embrace reality and all its imperfections, shield the wicked witches, find the pair that fits, and write our own happily ever after.

Photo from coolhandluke's Flickr account

That’s what happens when you open your heart to someone, when you’re left on the ground unconscious, awaking alone, with the pain you knew would come. When you choke for the words you cannot speak. When you thought you were permanently broken, when you’d close your eyes and pretend that you weren’t the person you were, the person who kept forcing until it all took her.

You just end up pushing everyone away, everyone who doesn’t seem to fit what you deem ideal for yourself. You do this unconsciously, with the tiniest hope of finding someone who would make you happy the right way; who wouldn’t break your heart. It’d be great to find someone who would have to constantly deal with who you are: the utterly complex and fragile little dreamer.

Every attempt of loving someone after that simply results to failure. Even the slightest heartache is traumatizing. You then build a wall for yourself and peek through, letting the faintest beams of light shine through, still hopeful. When you have feelings, or when those feelings want to grow on their own, you punish yourself. So you tell yourself that it’s best to not feel. Not at all.

You continue living happily; content, without desiring the kind of love everyone else dreams about and endlessly searches for. And you wonder whether or not that’s alright.