Leo

It was about 5:00 in the evening on a Friday in June, and I had a long list of errands. I was juggling half a dozen Fage yogurts, pancake mix, and a jar of spaghetti sauce in C-Town, as I craned my neck to scan the cereal boxes lined up on a shelf three inches too high for my 5'5 frame. I decided to head to the organic grocery store next door to see if they had my favorite Honey Bunches of Oats. As I made my way down the aisle towards the cash registers, I brushed past a tall guy wearing a blue shirt checking out the instant oatmeal on another shelf. I paused for a second, wondering if I could somehow reach up and grab a box without dropping all the groceries I had cradled precariously in both arms. As I tried to reach up for a box, Fage yogurt 1 of 6 began to wobble, and I said out loud, "Alright, bad idea." Just as I was about to walk away, someone said, "Need a hand?" I turned around to see the guy in the blue shirt looking at me with an easy smile. He's probably from California, I thought, taking in his deep tan and air of casual ease. "Umm thanks, just the Maple & Brown Sugar one." "Good choice," he said, with another quick smile. I flashed him a small smile in return, looked away, and lightly kicked the floor - my standard cute-boy-hope-he-doesn't-know-I-think-he's-cute reaction. Get a grip, it's just oatmeal, I scolded myself. Straightening up I composed my face and said, "I can take that," holding out my right arm and praying that I didn't drop everything on the floor. "I got this. I'm walking to the register anyway..." he replied, the corners of his mouth twitching as he suppressed a smile at my obvious struggle with the small tower of groceries I was cradling.

"Okay... thank you," I said and turned to quickly walk to the front. Dammit, I hissed under my breath. There was a line, mostly because of a lady who had tried to buy half the store and was now trying to decide which one of the ten cans of beans she wanted to return. I took a deep breath and tried not to focus on the fact that cute guy in blue shirt was right behind me, probably staring right at the back of my head. Is my hair okay? I wondered, resisting the urge to run a hand through my tousled hair. I snuck a peek at my outfit, glad that I decided to wear my favorite turquoise sun dress. Umm what are you doing, said my inner voice, rolling her eyes at me, cute guy in blue shirt is not checking out your dress. I sighed, wishing the line would move faster so I could get going, but mostly so I'd stop thinking about the guy in blue standing right behind me.

Finally, the cashier called out "Next!" and I gratefully unloaded my small army of yogurts onto the counter. "Together?" the lady asked. "Huh?" I looked up distractedly as I tried to rummage through my bag for my wallet. "You two together?" she repeated patiently. I looked over and realized that cute-guy- in-blue-shirt (CGIBS) had set down my oatmeal on the counter and was still standing there, with easy smile fixed in place. "Uh no, we're not together," I replied, and stole a quick glance at him, only to catch him smile-smirking again, and I quickly looked away, busying myself in my quest for my elusive wallet.  After what seemed like an eternity, I located my credit card and swiped it, keeping my gaze firmly on the cash register and trying not to sneak a look at CGIBS. "Thank you and have a great day!" said the cashier lady with a smile, as she handed me my receipt and I grabbed my bag. "You too!" I replied, "And thanks!" I said in the general direction of CGIBS. Outside the store, the warm air hit my face and I exhaled loudly. Well that's that, I thought and went into the store next door...

I was in the pasta aisle when I saw a flash of blue out of the corner of my eye. I looked up and saw CGIBS at the other end of the aisle, examining the organic pears. Oh crap, I thought, what's he doing here? and turned my back to him. Shopping, duh, said my inner voice snippily. Maybe if I stay here and stare at the pasta, he won't notice me. Yeah right, the voice retorted, because you are totally blending in with the pasta in your bright turquoise dress. As I pretended to be totally absorbed in reading the nutrition facts on a packet of angel hair pasta, I noticed the blue blur moving down the aisle. "Anything from the top shelf?" said CGIBS, and I looked over with a oh-I-didn't-see-you-there expression. "Haha, thank you, I'm good." "You got some help this time huh," he nodded at the shopping basket by my feet. "Yeah, I didn't want to drop anything," I said lamely, and then grabbed my basket, flashed him a quick smile and made my way to the cashier.

As I stood in line again, it took ALL my willpower to not turn my head to see if CGIBS was in line too. I paid for my groceries again, looking straight ahead the whole time, resisting the urge to take a teeny tiny little peek around the store to see if he was there. I grabbed my bags and walked out of the automatic doors, pretty proud of myself for not looking back, and made my way up the street to Duane Reade...

I was in line for the third time when it happened. I was surreptitiously scanning the covers of the gossip rags when I felt, rather I sensed something, and looked up. And there he was. CGIBS. With the now familiar smile, though he looked a bit sheepish. "We gotta stop meeting like this," he said, running a hand through his hair. "Oh yeah, well how should we meet then?" I said brazenly, taking myself by surprise. Nice! said my inner voice appreciatively. "Maybe at Starbucks? Like the one next door," he said with another smirk-smile. "Sure," I shrugged casually and smiled back, while doing cartwheels mentally. You go girl! high-fived my inner voice. I tried to breathe evenly as I waited to pay for the last of my day's loot. I kept peeking at my face in the reflection on my phone, wondering if I needed another coat of lip balm. Then before I knew it, I had my bags and was on my way outside to wait for CGIBS. He finished paying for his vitamin water and ginormous bag of pop chips (jalapeno flavored - I noticed with approval) and as he came out of the sliding doors, he flashed me that big, bright smile again, and I had to resist the urge to burst into a big, silly, goofy, happy smile.

The walk to the Starbucks next door was about 1.5 minutes, but it felt like 1.5 hours instead. He held the door open for me, "After you," he said with an exaggerated bow. "Thank you," I said and giggled. My inner voice raised an eyebrow at me, Giggling? Really? I shook my head and tried to go for a soft-smile-slightly-aloof-expression, but when I saw him smile at me with his twinkly blue eyes, I couldn't resist and smiled back. "Hi," I said. "Hi yourself," he replied tilting his head. "I'm Leo by the way," he added, extending his hand. "H____," I said shaking his hand. "You weren't following me were you?" he asked, and I looked up at him horrified, only to see him smirk smiling at me. "Noooo, maybe YOU were following ME," I said. "If I was, and I'm not admitting that I was, I'm sure glad I did," he replied cheekily. I laughed and did the side-head-tilting thing I only do when I'm kinda smitten+feeling a bit shy, and he mimicked me with another smile. "So coffee or....?" he asked when we got to front of the line. "I'll have some tea. Early Grey. With honey please," I said. "And a tall iced coffee with sugar," he added whipping out his credit card and handing it to the barista. "Let me. Please," he said seeing my expression and before I could get any words out of my mouth to protest. Seeing the amused look on his face, I caved. We made our way to the tiny little table at the front of the store to wait for our drinks.

"So you do this often?" he asked with another smirk-smile. "What, have tea? Yes. Twice a day, every day," I said saucily. He laughed and said, "No, have tea with perfect strangers you meet in grocery stores." "No, only the ones with nice arms." I quipped back, kinda shocked at myself. "Oh so you're saying I have nice arms?" he said with another smirk smile. "Yeah and nice legs," I said cheekily, laughing at his astonished expression. "You... you are something else," he said shaking his head at me. "So what about you huh, you go around asking girls out in grocery stores?" I teased right back. "I was kinda afraid you'd say no you know," he said twirling a leftover straw wrapper on the table. "And why's that," I asked. "Well... cause of the tomatoes," he replied. "The tomatoes??" I blinked, confused. "I saw you picking tomatoes at the organic store. You examined each one so closely and only three made it to your basket. I can't even imagine how rejected the rest felt," he explained. I threw my head back and laughed. Really really laughed like I hadn't in a while. As I ran my hand threw my hair and smiled at him, he grinned right back. "Leo?? Earl Grey and an Iced Coffee!" called out the barista and CGI... I mean Leo, got up to get our drinks.

As we sipped our drinks, my hot tea and his icy coffee, we exchanged vitals: backgrounds, hometowns (he was surprised to hear about mine, but then everyone always is), schools, jobs etc. I was surprised to hear that he was kind of an artist, and he in turn was impressed that I knew what a "maquette" was. We both loved dark chocolate and hated reality tv. He loved cooking like I did, and I was fascinated by graphic art which was his thing. Before I knew it, an hour and a half had gone by, and we were still talking about everything and anything. Then I glanced outside and saw that it was staring to get dark, and reluctantly I said, "Hey... it's getting late..." not really wanting the moment to end. He turned around in his seat to look outside, turned back at me and said, "Yes. Brilliant deduction Watson!" I laughed. Of course, he reads Sherlock Holmes too, I thought shaking my head. I began to gather my bags, all six of them, from under the table. "So uhhh... this was fun," he said, and I glanced up to see him running his hand through his hair. "A lot of fun. I'm glad you followed you me to Duane Reade," I laughed. "I'm glad you followed me in here," he quipped right back as I threw our empty cups into the trash.

I transferred all my bags to my left hand, grabbed my purse and then I stuck out my hand, "It was really really nice to meet you Leo," I said, smiling at him. "Likewise," he said quickly, taking my hand, but not shaking it. I paused and saw him swallow, and he ran his other hand through his hair again. He does that when he's nervous, I realized. "So maybe you'll follow me here again?" he asked hopefully. I felt a lump in my throat as I looked at him. There was no easy way to do this... You can't, said my inner voice gently. But, but, I thought, he's... No, said the voice firmly. Okay, I thought sadly, still holding his hand, finding it extra hard to look into his earnest blue eyes. "So uh, can I, get your number, so I can follow you somewhere again H?" he asked with a small smile. "I uh... I don't do numbers," I said, not quite looking at him, trying to ignore the tightening inside my stomach. "Why?" he asked, his face suddenly serious. "I just... don't," I whispered, wondering why my vision blurred as I looked down at the slightly scuffed floor. "Soo... I'm just going to be a one-coffee stand?" he said, forcing a laugh, but I could hear it in his voice. I swallowed and looked up, "Yeah, but it's the best one-coffee stand of your life," I tried to joke back. He was still holding my hand, and I wasn't trying to let go of his either. In that moment, a thousand thoughts flashed through my head.  Images of me, him... of us. Of what could be... That's not the only what if, reminded the voice gently. With a heavy heart, I gently pulled my hand back, surprised by how hard it was to do that. When I looked up again, his face was serious, the playful smile was gone. In it's place was a look of concern, intermingled with flashes of confusion that I could see in his eyes, and he kept running his hand through his hair. "Want to walk me to the end of the street?" I asked, and he exhaled loudly, and then nodded. We walked out in silence, with serious faces. A stark contrast to the two people who had walked in a mere two hours ago. Maybe, he's... I thought. No, you cannot take that chance, interrupted the inner voice sternly, Not ever again. Ever. There's such a finality to that word. Like a full stop. A dead end.

We got to the end of the street, and I turned to look at him. Wow, why is this painful, I thought as I felt my heart clench. His face was serious, almost distraught, and I could see him thinking a thousand things. Wondering why. It's better this way, said the inner voice. Is it? I thought angrily. Yes. For you anyway, said the voice. "Well I guess this is goodbye," I said, trying to smile at him, my vision blurring again. "Till the next time you follow me into a grocery store," he said, trying to keep it light, but I could see it in his eyes. "Till then..." I relented. He smiled, and that's when I saw it in his face. Hope. I reached up to give him a quick hug, but he wrapped me into a bear hug. It took all my willpower to pull back, and look back up at his face. Hopefully not for the last time, I found myself thinking and maybe I imagined it, but I saw the same look mirrored in his eyes. "Bye," I managed to say, despite the tightness in my throat. "Later H," he said with a soft smile. And I turned and started walking in the other direction. I felt a drop of water on my cheek, and then another, and another. Rain, I realized, of course. Tears from the sky came down, faster now and I fumbled for my umbrella,  taking deep breaths to steady myself, and kept walking. In the rain. Just before I crossed the street, I turned and saw a flash of blue disappearing around the corner at the other end. Maybe someday, I thought, maybe... 

---

"Remember, Red. Hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, 

and no good thing ever dies..."

- Shawshank Redemption

Is Timing Everything?

Last night I was going over my index cards for one of my upcoming finals, and decided to take a break with some re-runs of Sex and the City.  As luck would have had it, one of my favorite episodes (Season 3, Episode 7), was on.  The following conversation between Miranda, Charlotte and Carrie is something that has made me pause time and time again:

Charlotte (about Trey): Sometimes you just know. With the right man it’s just fate.
Miranda: It’s not fate. His light is on, that’s all.
Charlotte: What light?
Miranda: Men are like cabs. When they’re available their light goes on. They wake up one day, they decide they are ready to settle down, have babies, whatever, and they turn their light on. The next woman they pick up, boom, that’s the one they’ll marry. It’s not fate. It’s dumb luck.
Charlotte: Sorry, I refuse to believe that love is that random.
Miranda: It’s all about timing. You gotta get them when their light’s on.

          vs.     

And just like Charlotte, I would say that I too refuse to believe that something as profound as love could be that random.  But then, when I really think about it, I can't help but wonder if timing really is everything.  For instance, "college sweethearts" are called that because they met in college.  Had one of them taken time off, or gone off to study abroad, or well not gone to college at all, they would never have met right?  It also seems to be a pretty standard deal in law schools now, for people to meet their other half and get their MR and MRS well in advance of getting their JDs.  Maybe the notion of bumping into a tall, dark, handsome stranger on a rainy night under the awning of a random residence on the upper west side is far too romantic (and well cheesy), or jumping into the same cab as the man/woman of your dreams (a la JLo and Alex O'Loughlin in The Backup Plan) has a low statistical probability, but with the addition of the "timing is everything" caveat, I find myself wondering if it even makes sense to bother tinkering with this stuff until the proverbial "light," as per Miranda, is on? 

I look back at the number of times I have passed up on people and potential relationships because of "timing."  In high school, I felt that I was "too young" to be day dreaming about anyone and had to focus on getting into college anyway.  In college I had to be "very focused" on getting into law school, and anything or anyone else was going to be a (a) distraction,  (b) irrelevant,  (c) what would be the point if I packed up and moved off to the West Coast (long distance relationships were rather painful from what I had been hearing from friends dealing with high school bfs/gfs attending schools far, far away)... 

So since I didn't pack myself off to law school right away, and started working last year, I promptly invented a new reason: I was working for just a year, and my lifestyle (living alone for the first time, working ridiculous 12-15 hour days & weekends, living, & well loving, the 'BigLaw life', eating takeout every single day...) was too impermanent to allow for a relationship. Well a serious one anyway, and casual dating still wasn't my cup of tea.  So I found myself sitting across someone I had really and truly liked for quite a long time, telling him that I didn't think that I was a "real adult" yet, and when he laughed and asked what I meant by that, I responded with all seriousness that it mean that being one would entail having, "a JD, a real job, a real apartment etc."  He looked down at this plate (with disappointment I now realize) and did this little casual shrug that he does when he's trying to make it seem like he doesn't really care/isn't fazed at all, and said, "Okay, fine. It's your life," and that was that.  Oh, and did I mention that it was Valentine's Day when this little conversation took place?  


But a few days later (when I think I finally realized that I was pretty much head over heels in serious "like like" with him) I found myself thinking maybe I had it all wrong...  

So I started wondering that maybe there was never a right time, and maybe there would never be a right time.  Maybe the time was right now? But by the time I had figured it out, the timing really wasn't "right" anymore.  The day I finally worked up the courage to walk up to his cubicle and tell him what I really felt, it was too late. He was holding an acceptance letter from a great law school, which effectively meant that he'd be spending the next three years of his life buried in a pile of books in a far, far away land called ________.  :(  Ironically enough, the letter was dated, February 14th, 2010.  So I swallowed my newly found courage along with a big lump of disappointment and didn't say anything at all.  A few months later, I stood in the lobby of our firm's building, and watched him leave ... out of the revolving doors,  and out of New York.  

Maybe I could have been all dramatic (a la every single romantic movie) and run out after him in my impractically high heels, and said breathlessly at the last minute, "Wait, wait! ... I forgot to tell you something.  I think, I like you. I mean, I like like you.  A lot."  Maybe it would still have been the wrong time, because he was still going to leave that Fall.  Or maybe he would have turned around and said with that half smile I had grown to love so much, "Oh yeah? Hold that thought.  I'll get back to you on that..." and maybe, just maybe, I wouldn't still be thinking "what if?" every other day... 

...

I love the movie Serendipity now, but when I first saw it, I had to seriously restrain myself from groaning out loud every ten minutes.  I mean HOW could they just let "fate" decide if they were going to be together??? How can you just walk away from someone who feels so right that your soul recognizes that they might be "The One?" How?!?!  I don't think I've ever been that frustrated for a full 90 minutes before in my life.  It's one thing to have a "missed connection" situation where you see the doors of the 4 train close in your face, or you see them hop into a cab that speeds away in the opposite direction.  But to have a pen, and plenty of paper (not to mention cell phones?!) and then just let fate decide if you'll ever get that person's name/number again, well that's ... that's just plain reckless! It made for a great movie, but I think I'd get an ulcer from all that stress haha!

Bottom line: I think somewhere along the way I stopped looking at my planner to see if it was a "good time."  Life's too short to worry about everything going according to The Plan.  Hey, you can make all the plans you want, and then life will happen anyway.  So maybe next time, if fate does smile on you, say thank you, and take down his/her number.  Take a chance, take a risk, take a leap of faith... and make it the "right time" ...


And maybe, just maybe, next time I see him, I will say, "Hey, by the way... just so you know, I really like like you."    

XOXO

H

Relationship Pacman

So remember Pacman?  The landmark arcade video game with the little yellow Pacman which gobbled up little dots, and kept bumping into the walls of the maze, trying to avoid its enemies (Inky, Pinky, Blinky, & Clyde) and had to reach the end of the maze without getting killed by them.

I was talking to a friend about dating the other day, and I realized that so many people I know are playing endless rounds of something that I can only describe as "Relationship Pacman."  So just like the little yellow guy, they are going around in this maze of life, collecting points (degrees, friends, making memories, jobs etc.) and they keep bumping (read: dating or meeting) into dead ends (read: the wrong people), and then turn around in another direction, and keep going till they bump into the next dead end, and then on and on and on... till the game is over.

And while, the little yellow guy is perfectly okay after bumping into the dead ends, and makes it out without any bumps and bruises, most of us don't.  In the process of meeting, dating or being in relationships with all the wrong people, we acquire a host of blisters, bumps, bruises and burns... most of which aren't visible, but which leave impressions on the emotional and psychological canvass of who we are.  Some of these might just be superficial scratches, but some of the cuts can run very deep, and the bruises can take a very long time to heal.  And even if they do, they leave behind a scar - as a permanent reminder of that person... and of what took place in that encounter.

And sure, we can choose to subscribe to one of the dozens of cliches available - "we learn from every relationship (read: mistake)," and "everyone comes into our lives for a reason," or "life is about learning from your experiences," but somehow, none of them are the miracle neosporin that can soothe the sting, the burn, or the pain that you are left with after running into a dead end.


You can't really ever completely paint over, cover up or erase the marks.  They become a part of the self-portrait you paint over a lifetime ... often distorting, clouding over, or cutting across the beautiful strokes of color added by the love, support, encouragement, friendship, faith, hope and courage we find en route in life.  Sometimes the cuts are so deep that they tear right through the canvas ... especially those inflicted by heartbreak or betrayal.  Even more importantly, every person you enter into a relationship with, leaves behind a part of themselves with you, and takes a piece of you with them.  So maybe that's why it's kind of important to be picky about who gets to leave the proverbial "I was here" on your canvas, and gets to walk away with a piece of you... 

So sometimes I wonder if that's why I refused to play "Relationship Pacman," all those years.  Because I didn't want some careless person to take a brush or a blade, and wreak havoc on the picture I had been working on painstakingly for so many, many years.  I didn't want the ugly black streak, or the unsightly bump... I didn't want to have to glue together rips in my canvas or cover up the scratches.  But mostly, I didn't want to feel the impact of crashing into a dead end, mostly because I feared that it would send me hurtling off into another direction... another wrong direction... further and further away from the actual path that I needed to be on.


See, for most of my life, I have believed that as long as I keep up my end of the bargain (doing well academically and otherwise, treating my body and soul with respect, caring for and appreciating the people I was blessed to have in my life, finding beauty in the world I live in, and doing "good" things in general) the universe will reciprocate, and I will find the person I can share all of this with.  The person who would bring out the very best in me, and who I'd inspire to be the best person they could be.  Two imperfectly perfect people, who are perfect when they come together...

And yes, I am a hopeless romantic (or rather, I am trying to stay one).  But is it really that unlikely that there might be an iota of truth in this?  That if we were to focus our energies on being the very best people we can be, we gradually become the "ideal" ... and get closer and closer to finding our ideal counterpart.  Think about it: if our ideal man/woman is smart, funny, charming, polite, loving, giving, caring, honest, loyal, family-oriented, optimistic, sexy, driven, talented, ambitious, dedicated, committed, passionate etc etc. and we secretly believe that we aren't those things, or haven't worked enough on ourselves to come close to meeting our own ideals, then how can we expect someone else to believe that we are all that.  Or as I remember reading in some magazine: "If you wouldn't want to date yourself, then how can you expect someone else to want to date you?"


So maybe dating as many people as possible isn't the answer.  Maybe hitting bars for endless happy hours, or doing multiple rounds of speed dating, or going on a dizzying number of blind dates is not the answer.  Maybe the answer lies within us, and with us.  Be the person you would want to date.   


So why bother collecting bruises in the first place? Do we really need to learn some lessons? Or are some things just obvious (for instance, once a liar, always a liar etc.) and we can spot the red flags, heed the warning signs, and turn before we crash?


I don't know.  I don't have all the answers.  I think I'm still learning the questions ...


It makes me sad sometimes to think of all the people in the world, going about in their mazes, bumping into dead ends, trying and trying to find their person.  It makes me sad that they have to fight loneliness, and wrestle with doubt, and worry if they'll ever even find this person, or if this person even exists.  That so many people will compromise or settle, because of fearing being alone.  Coming home to an empty apartment, sitting down to dinner for one, having no one to curl up next to on the couch... or clink your wine glass with can be hard.  Yes, the silence of solitude can be scary... 


But let me tell you this - there is nothing lonelier, than being with someone and feeling like you're alone anyway...


It takes incredible courage to expose your soft underbelly to someone else, to trust them with your vulnerabilities, your greatest fears, your deepest, darkest secrets ... and hope that they won't let you fall.  Have that courage - but wait for the right person.  I know that they don't come with neon signs or labels.  Learn to love the silence - so you can be still with yourself.  And believe - that they are out there ... and you WILL find them.

“A soulmate is someone who has locks that fit our keys, and keys to fit our locks. 

When we feel safe enough to open the locks, our truest selves step out and we can be completely and honestly who we are; we can be loved for who we are and not for who we’re pretending to be. 

Each unveils the best part of the other. No matter what else goes wrong around us, with that one person we’re safe in our own paradise. 

Our soulmate is someone who shares our deepest longings, our sense of direction. When we’re two balloons, and together our direction is up, chances are we’ve found the right person. 

Our soulmate is the one who makes life come to life.”

- Richard Bach

XOXO

H

Disney gave me unrealistic expectations of life, men and hair

11.11.11


I don't know when it actually started, but I think that around the age of ten I somehow decided that my soulmate-missing-puzzle-piece-other-half-prince-charming existed, and when the time was right, I was going to meet him, fall in love, have magical picnics and walks in the forest, have pretty little birds and butterflies fly around our heads, skip (not walk, skip) in grassy meadows, find a beautiful castle, or cottage (or condo) and we would live 'happily ever after...'


Sound familiar? It is. We all know this one.  Because that's what happened to her, and her, and this one, and of course to her ... It happened to them all.  So how could I not believe that it would happen to me as well? After all, I grew up watching them for years.  All those Sunday mornings, in my Disney pjs, with a bowl of cereal in front of me, I'd watch the 'magic' unfold... I'd laugh and smile as they'd talk to animals (never questioning WHY the animals talked back, or why they could speak English anyway), and lip-synced as they sang while doing chores or skipped daintily in the forests, and teared up when things would go wrong, and the poor little princess was separated from her prince because of the machinations of the evildoers, and then rejoice when they were reunited, and clap when they kissed and walked/rode/glided off into the sunset...


Afterwards, as I'd finish my soggy breakfast, I'd be filled with this sense of tranquility and bliss - life was so beautiful and I couldn't wait to grow up and find "The One."


If only life were Disney...


So between the ages of 11 and 14, I realized that I had very little in common with her, and her, and well her, and realized that I actually liked her (because like me, she could do this), her (because she was kind of sassy) and especially her, a lot better.  I was never dainty to begin with anyway.  I liked to run around a lot (skipping was fun, but only if it involved a jump rope and some competition), ripped my leggings a lot, liked climbing things, and some of my bruises had bruises... I also was too impatient and restless to sit around looking out of a window, or to sing to birds.  I liked to debate (competitively obviously).  And write. And sculpt with clay (which can get really messy).  And practice my jump shot.


And then came high school, and adolescence... and then eventually college.


What I didn't realize at all back then (and till fairly recently) was that unconsciously, I had picked up some subliminal messages from the fairytales I had loved so much as a child. So I suppose that I believed some, or almost all, of the following:


1.  Girls (like Disney princesses) go about with their lives, whether as orphans stuck cleaning greasy kitchen floors, or whiling away time in a locked tower, or in my case - doing well in school, collecting slam books, having sleepovers & sharing secrets with best friends, keeping diaries and playing contact sports.


2.  Bad hair days are a myth.  Your hair will always be perfect - or almost perfect even if the wind messes it up a little, or even if you fall and land in a pile of leaves, it will always look perfect.  Just like hers.


3. You will always have wonderful, supportive, loving, creative, entertaining friends.  They will obviously not be small furry animals fluent in English, or well-meaning but eccentric fairy godmothers, but you will be surrounded by people who love you and will help you find your prince.


4.  Your prince (read: normal human boy with no magical abilities whatsoever) will find you. Yes, HE will find YOU.  Not the other way round.  So you just sit tight, and do your thing, and one day, he will ride into town on a noble steed, be shipwrecked right outside your castle by the sea, or see you across a ballroom and fall head over heels in love with you.  Translation: almost run you over with his bicycle, splash you with chlorinated water in the pool, pull your hair in the playground, send you a slightly crumpled Valentine, slip a note into your locker, and sneak looks at you from across the lecture hall/library/restaurant...

5.  "Happily Ever After," is what you want.  You will never be bored of having a perfect existence, with perfect hair, and the perfect boy.  Things like a B.A.-M.A.-J.D.-L.L.M.-clerking-biglaw job-making partner-teaching in a law school-saving the world, are nothing compared to "Happily Ever After."

6.  You will always have the option of moving to a castle even if your story started in a small, modest cottage.  (That can be your summer house for when you're redoing the walls in the grand ballroom.)


7.  There really is no such thing as dating.  Or exes. I mean, did Belle have an ex-bf? Or Ariel? Or Snow White? Did any of them go on blind dates? Or group dates? Or get set-up? Or tinker with online dating? Nope.  Again, you just sit tight, do your thing, and magically this guy will come find you.

8.  Also, when he does show up, he will be perfect and fearless.  Hair, clothes, manners, horseback riding skills, marksmanship (read: no crazy haircut, will invest in detergent, won't scratch ahem in public, can drive a real car and not just a Wii-one, buy you flowers, will carry you when your feet get tired from the 5-inch heels, and will say & do all the right things at the right time).


9.  Along with bad hair days, you will never wake up on the wrong side of the bed.  You will wake up every single day, radiant, glowing, wanting to burst into song.  Disney princesses don't hit the snooze button.  Or stand in line at their local Starbucks hiding behind the biggest, darkest pair of sunglasses they have, waiting for their morning fix of caffeine.  They also don't wear concealer, or any kind of make-up really... So you're just going to have that fresh, dewy complexion, with a light natural blush and rosy red lips.  And you will never really have to worry about what to wear because everything will look great on you anyway.

...

Now while some of the things are great and actually true (like having the love and support of great friends), the rest can start to unravel. And fast.  You realize that your high school love isn't even the one you're going to prom with, let alone "The One," and the guy who stole your heart after copious amounts of jungle juice at the frat party last weekend doesn't remotely seem like Prince Charming in broad daylight... and so begins the spiral I call the "Relationship Pacman."    

But going back to the Disney theme, it's hard to understand why the fairytale isn't happening.  You've done everything right.  But where, oh where, is your prince? And then the dread begins to creep in... sneaking its way into your heart, one tentacle at a time.  What if it's me?  What if my "standards" are too high?  What if I'm not "hot" enough, or go to enough parties?  Maybe I need to change my hair/clothes/name...?  As the Dread Monster sets up camp, doubts and insecurities mushroom all over. You start second guessing yourself.  Reconsidering all the guys you had passed over because you were convinced they weren't "The One."  Maybe X will stop binge drinking on weekends, or Y will take a break from 6 hour video game marathons to make small talk with you (on his way to the bathroom maybe?), or Z will take you to a nice restaurant, or park, or the movies instead of always taking you to the dark, dingy, smelly bar with the dollar beers where you can't even hear yourself think... Maybe, just maybe it was one of them, and you didn't look hard enough. Or try hard enough...


Or maybe life isn't Disney. But only in the sense that you don't have to sit back and wait for "The One," to come galloping on his trusty horse to find you.  Maybe, just like you, he's out there somewhere, wondering who you are, and when you're going to meet him.  And maybe, just maybe, it's okay for you to take the first step and start walking down that path that will eventually lead you to him.  So what if you don't know when it'll be, or who it'll be, or where and how it'll happen.  So what, if it takes time and isn't happening according to your 5-year or 10-year plan.  So what if there's really nothing you can actually do to make it happen.  It'll happen.  You just have to believe in it.  And in yourself.  And in the idea that what you seek, is seeking you (Rumi).


And that's when I realized that Disney wasn't to blame.  Because Disney taught me to believe... in love, and soulmates, and the very idea of "Happily Ever After."  But more importantly, as Sarah Crewe would say:

"All girls are. Even if they live in tiny old attics. Even if they dress in rags, even if they aren't pretty, or smart, or young. They're still princesses. All of us."

So I leave you with a quote that I think sums all of this up far better than I can:

“You must know that in any moment a decision you make can change the course of your life forever: the very next person you stand behind in line or sit next to on an airplane, the very next phone call you make or receive, the very next movie you see or book you read or page you turn could be the one single thing that causes the floodgates to open, and all of the things that you've been waiting for ... fall into place.”

- A. Robbins

So here's to Disney.  And to the magic of believing...  :)


XOXO


H