No Princess

I watched a story when I was five years-old. I watched the movie that I know by heart and backwards. The story every little girl believes is how life is going to be. The story every little girl acts out in her bedroom, wearing a plastic tiara and her mother's too-big high heals. It's a love story. I would always have my favorite teddy bear be the prince. It ended happily ever after each and every time I played. And I was the happily married princess.

Maybe I watched it too many times. I was eight and I thought I was in love. I thought I had found the perfect boy to be my prince. I would see him at school and he would be my happily ever after prince, in my imagination. The girls teased me for thinking so. I called them my step-sisters. They resented me for it, and I was ridiculed more. I stopped saying my romanticised thoughts out loud. I quit pretending I was characters when I was in front of people. It was the easiest thing to do.

By the time I was twelve, I was thinking I was destined to be alone forever. My girlfriends had all gotten boyfriends. I wanted nothing more than someone who would just love me. I wanted to be seen by all the boys, and loved by them. I tried to gain positive attention, but only lost what friends I had. I was left with three friends who were willing to be seen with me. I had developed a case of obsession with finding someone to be with me. I was a hopeless case of love-sickness.

I stopped obsessing over love. I stopped obsessing over boys. I stopped obsessing over being with someone. I was sixteen. I had no problem with attracting the boys by then, in fact, I attracted quite a few. I did what they all wanted. Talked with them, flirted with them, teased them, acted for them. I didn't have a prince. I thought I didn't want or need one anymore. Then, I met this... boy. He was awkward and tall, thin and his eyes were always smiling. He didn't say a word to me. Just kissed me. All those feelings of love and emotion came running back up to the forefront of my mind. I knew I shouldn't have, but I kissed him back. Kissing led to touching. Touching led to more. And more. And more. And when it was all over I realized just how much of a mistake I'd made.

This wasn't a movie. He was no prince.

I was no princess.