As women we are inundated through most of our lives with the fantasy of being rescued. The proverbial Sleeping Beauty is so deeply programmed in us that we convince ourselves that our lives will not be complete until we are awakened by our “true love’s kiss.” We make life changing decisions based on this deep seated belief that somewhere out there is someone who will ultimately take care of us and rescue us, but from whom? From what? Ourselves? Is it denial or fear that we are really incapable of being OK on our own?
This is no way near an uber feminist blog where I will sit here and claim that I don’t need a man to be whole. I still truly believe there is an ultimate balance of male and female energy, yin and yang, or whatever you want to call it. And I’m not about to pretend that I don’t want to be having more sex. I have just spent too long looking for validation from someone else while ignoring me, and letting my esteem falter when that validation never really comes, or at least not in the way I think it should.
So, this is my story. This is my journey to becoming Waking Beauty. It is about learning how to love myself, despite years of negative programming from others, from within, from wherever. I still have days where I want to be rescued. I still want someone to come in and wave the magic wand to make the pain go away, pay off my student loans and then cook me a fabulous dinner. But at the end of the day, I still know that it will be unfulfilling. I know that I will never truly accept myself through the eyes of another until I learn to do it on my own. I will never meet my “King” (I’m just too old for a prince at this point) until I let go of being the spoiled princess and truly believe in myself as the queen, and not because someone put me on that throne, but because I was self-appointed. I am nowhere near being OK on my own, but I am definitely somewhere on the path. Parts of my story seem so ridiculously crazy that it could truly be on a TV show or trashy romance novel, but maybe there are others with a similar story. So while this blog is my therapeutic way to release the past, I hope there is someone out there reading this that has done some of the stupid things I have, and can sigh a breath of relief knowing she is not alone.