Once upon a time, there was a single gal about town who was as fabulous as the feminist movement said she should be. She was well-read, well-rounded, and perhaps a wee bit too well fed. She cared about her mind and pooh-poohed vainglorious pursuits like waxing and Pilate's. She blithely moved through her life firm in the knowledge that there would be "plenty of time for boys later" and that "it'll happen when you least expect it." Until one day, the single gal found herself midway between 36 and 37 surrounded by boys who had turned into men and no expectations about any of them. At which point, she re-signed with eHarmony to her annoyance.
What the single gal figured was, if she joined a dating web site and kept her expectations as low as humanly possible, she was bound to get a date or two out of the experiment and -- at the very least -- stop feeling like a dateless, unattractive freak. Maybe, just maybe, she would start feeling a little confident about her abilities to attract a member of the opposite sex. Except, of course, as certain attractive men closed her out while other not as desirable men started communication, Single Gal came to the startlingly realization that in her heart of hearts, she was an uncompromising romantic. That somehow, she had bought lock, stock, and barrel into the fantasy that if she was her very best person possible, a handsome, well-read, well-rounded man who believed in egalitarian partnerships with fabulous women would see her from across the room and would be charmed by the silly way she tossed her hair when she laughed and choose her...conveniently forgetting, of course, that she did not toss her hair when she laughed. Hair tossing aside, this was a very unfortunate realization for the single gal.
"Sleeping Beauty. Waiting for the prince to wake her with a kiss," The Good Fairy, Andie, commented during a brunch when Single Gal brought up her romantic disillusionment. The analogy was so accurate that the single gal was acutely embarrassed. It was true. Growing up, she was a fairy tale fiend. Her teen years were filled with romance novels. She still, in her mid-30s -- preferred Meg Ryan romantic comedies -- You've Got Mail, Sleepless in Seattle, French Kiss -- to any other kind of movie available. Movies where Fate brought the soul mates together in a happily ever after kiss! (And all with virtually no work on the woman's side!) To quote Meg in When Harry Met Sally, "Yes! Yes! Yes!" At the median age of 36.5-years old, Single Gal came to the gross conclusion that she still held the romantic notions of an 8 year old. (*ouch!*) It was a bitter pill, and one she didn't want to swallow. Life was so hard in all the other areas, couldn't she get a break in just this one? Didn't everyone always tell Single Gal how fantastic she was and that eventually she was going to end up with the very best of men because, well, she deserved it?! And yet, all the evidence was to the contrary. When she really started to break down the relationships of the women around her, she started to see a pattern. There were a lot of women out there who did the choosing. Her two married sisters, and twice married mother, for instance. Four out of five girlfriends easily. All of them had chosen the guy and got him! What was that about? And why didn't any one write a fairy tale or Meg Ryan movie about that?!
"Think about it," The Good Fairy continued, "if you do the choosing, then you get to decide your own fate. Men are flattered by a woman's attention. So even though they might not necessarily choose you, their ego is stroked if you choose them. So at the end of the day, you get the guy you want instead of having to take whatever comes your way."
The Good Fairy was right, of course, and appealed to Single Gal's ridiculously over-developed sense of self. So Single Gal went right home and logged back onto eHarmony ready to be a kick-ass princess of her own modern fairy tale. And after about twenty minutes, she logged back out feeling disappointed, underwhelmed, and depressed. Because suddenly, she wanted better princes to choose from.
The moral of the story is: kick ass princesses are more picky than sleeping beauties.
3 comments:
Oh Jessica, can you back to New York so we can talk about such things in person? I've always fancied myself to have a 12-year old's romantic sensibilities, but you're probably right, I'm thinking like an 8-yr. old. xo
Love, love, love this post if only because I definitely know i'm trapped in Sweet Valley High Land, better yet, Sweet Dreams, LOL. I feel your pain and wonder how this modern fairy tale will turn out.
The further I go the less I believe in love as a form of abstraction... its really fucking tough to make things work out and usually someone has to swallow a lot of poison to make it work. It leads me to question life long monogamy, and I say this at 28 going into 29 a males prime years, and while I have no shortage of ladies who are interested, I cant help but to wonder, whats the point? I fear the die hard romantic in me is slowly being murdered by the side of me that wallows in insecure pessimism.
I have become something of the Simon Cowell of the dating world around here... I talk to a lady and all I can do is sniff out an agenda, what you are looking for Mr. Right? Someone who will love you and your faults and treat you with respect and take care of you when you need it and remain loyal and faithful while still being attractive and has pride and self dignity? Why yes that's me, and what do you bring to the table? Nothing? oh... Sex? oh... woopdifuckingdoo.
I remember pining away in college drawing with charcoal late into the night or scribbling in my journal wondering when I was going to find the woman who completed me. Apparently she never showed up and I ended up having to complete myself. Now that I got that going for me people want in on it... except I don't want them in on it because it took me long enough to get here.
The more things change...
At this point I see relationships more like a business transaction, I do want to have children and a family, but the steps I must take to get them seems kind of asinine to me.
Will Miss perfect show up? I am doubtful. Then again I stinted on nothing in a relationship I sacrificed for for 8 years and then she took off when I had nothing left in the emotional reserves to give. She sucked me dry and then left. Maybe I am just bitter and hurt still I dunno.
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