When I was much younger, I dreamed up a fairy tale, in which I was treated not as an obedient princess but an adamant, decisive queen, strong-willed yet still compassionate, rescued from my bitter loneliness, and accompanied by, walked alongside through life next to a wonderful, endearing king in this world which often strikes against those who pause to dreamily admire the sky, while busy lives hustle and bustle, rush on by. Together we would dance and dance, and seem like forever we were holding hands, our twirling, our waltzing, my dipping, for me, he would eternally care. Then as I grew, reality sunk in, a realisation I didn’t need a man to save me, I could fall and crawl and lift myself on my own, princess I was not, queen neither was I, but my world, my decisions I owned, I had the courage to walk it alone. No matter how I longed for love, affection, devotion, when I was ready, I trusted a king may still eventually show, perhaps the first would be the last, his appearance might be a type of curious offering, life’s rewarding, within my heart a new fairy tale began emerging - although through love, I did not need saving, I needed firm self-acceptance to continue developing and growing. I could stand by myself, all alone, but sometimes it is nice to not be on my own and as long as equality would be present, reign true, the yearning and hoping for another to complete the picture, there is nothing wrong with that, perhaps my dream wasn't so childish, nor so outlandish to quietly treasure and review. © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.Photo by Alise AliNari from Pexels
Join me also at:
Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose 
Leave a comment