Five years –all of which I’ve been single- I still say I’m kissing toads until my Prince Charming comes along. After years of bad dates, which I’m not sure if there is just a bad dating pool in my area but also, which I know does have to do with the fact I’ve grown as a person. Although the writer in me is a hopeless romantic, I’m not a wide-eyed naïve girl.
Truthfully, I’ve given up on Once Upon a Time…
What I realize now that I didn’t then is that I never wanted someone to rescue me from my current life. I need and want a partner that can challenge and inspire me with his intellect and heart. A prince who doesn’t need to save my world or want to be my whole world. Just someone who can be a part of it.
I’ve never wanted a man to take care of me or whisk me away to a magical kingdom where all your dreams come true. Because, well to be frank, I can make my own dreams come true. Instead, I imagine the successes I achieve and the life I’ve built from it all and sharing that with someone I’m truly in love with. A person who contributes to my life as well as the life of his own.
Grand gestures of love in the grand scheme of things are just temporary thrills of passion. I just want simply, the little things- like how I can easily fold into him as he drinks his morning coffee which is just as romantic than watching him perform a live lip-dub syncing musical with terrible dance moves included.
Instead, I want a guy whose love won’t waiver, who is strong enough to stand by my side no matter how tough the tidal waves slam against us even in the stormiest of storms.
Being single and nearing my mid-twenties, I’ve been rationalized as picky, who has these illusions of a soulmate. But I’m not holding out for something that doesn’t exist nor am I pushing away good-enough men because I am dreaming of an unattainable prize.
(Single, Taken, or just eating frozen pizza) I’m working on myself. It’s about building my writing career, travels, adopting a puppy, looking for an apartment, pretending to be a fitness junkie, becoming a doting aunt, bridesmaid bouquets, graduation, loss, Instagram filters, makeup, laughter, and one day, it will be about love.
In my past relationships and my dating life, I don’t plan for a happy ending. One of two outcomes will happen, it will end or it will lead into something greater. But I’m not interested in endings; I want to know how my love story began. Which is also a point of this blog, it’s not to fantasize about my future but instead to appreciate and document the beginnings before our love. When will we meet? After how many dates, happy and disappointing moments, does our love begin?
When it happens, it won’t be a fairytale – it will be a part of my story.
A story of a girl who didn’t believe in fairytales, but wrote her own. A story where I slayed the dragon and saved myself because I’m not a princess who needs to be rescued. Where I don’t have to settle with someone just to be secure. My marriage won’t be summed up with three little words of happily ever after, but is a lifetime of rises and falls, plot twists, and tough love. One where we choose each other, the start of working together towards our own happiness in life and love.
What I wish for doesn’t require a fairy god mother, forest animals, and a kiss to break the spell or a castle.
It might take some time until I meet you but until then, I’m not waiting for my prince to come. Instead, I’m doing what you’re doing too: living my own story- except, I happen to be writing it to you. I’m not the one authoring our plotlines, but someday they will meet, and I hope we are happily apart until we’re not!