Wednesday, February 26, 2014

Once Upon A Time...

There was a girl. This girl did not suffer from some dark enchantment of the soul. She was a girl who did not think she was a princess disguised as a pauper. A girl who was not waiting for some white-knight to come to her defense and then lock her up in an ivory tower to keep the world from her...or to keep her from the world.

This was a girl who knew there were wolves in the twilight forest. That the world was full of sharp spindles, of curses, poisoned apples, cruel step-mothers and petty step-sisters, of fathers who were so remote and removed that they were never even part of the story. The whole world made up of stories of heroines as victims, helpless in the face of predestined fates, seemingly dependent on the power of romantic love, generations of other girls, breathless - literally - as they await transformation. Cautionary tales, all.

This is a girl who, if she will kiss a frog, does so for the sake of love of a frog, not for the promise of an erstwhile prince. Who will not easily fall prey to the false charm of wolves but will wield the axe to save the woodsman, if necessary. Who treads lightly over bridges, because a bigger billy-goat cannot always be depended on to show up when needed.

The girl lived an unremarkable life full of comfort and relative contentment, because Happily Ever Afters are for distressed damsels who meet with unfortunate incidents or exchange their freedom for dubious security and invariably sleep their lives away.

The End

1 comment:

m said...

and there you have the secret to success.