The moment my ex-partner revealed that our relationship was not quite what I imagined, and that his extracurricular activities didn’t involve anything as wholesome as dodgeball or pottery, my first reaction was to SCREAM. The second was to feign normalcy—because who doesn’t like a good pretense? And the third? I promptly called a lawyer and faced the truth head-on.
As time passed, I reflected on my past relationships and realized each one taught me valuable lessons, guiding me toward the day when my ex and I said “I don’t.”
Stage One: The Fairy Tale Phase
Thanks to my early education, courtesy of Disney, I believed that if I embodied purity and charm—perhaps even sacrificing my voice or communing with woodland creatures—I was destined for a prince. He would fall in love with me in mere moments and propose within minutes. Tragic endings were simply not on the agenda, even with the occasional parent’s demise or a raging forest fire. In my imaginative play, I always had a swooning “me” and a dashing counterpart—be it Ken, G.I. Joe, or my best friend Jessica, who occasionally donned the role of the prince—ready to rescue me while I wore sparkly shoes and a rainbow wig. True love seemed effortless as long as I played my part perfectly.
Stage Two: The Quirky Heroine Phase
As I matured, my understanding of romance came from the pages of Anne of Green Gables, The Baby-Sitters Club, and magazines like Teen Bop and Seventeen. I studied diligently, embracing quirky traits without going overboard. I laughed at all the corny jokes (because who doesn’t love a good laugh to get noticed?), kept up long-distance friendships trying to decipher love notes (was that a heart-shaped dot over the “i”? Squee!), and endured awkward moments just to fit in. The scenes I created followed the scripts handed to me, yet no one ever taught me how to decide if they were right for me.
Stage Three: The Mr. Big Phase
Eventually, my fairy tales transformed into the dramatic narratives of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, 90210, Ally McBeal, and Sex and the City. The rules dictated that if I could be quirky, stylish without effort, and slim enough, a passionate romance would surely follow. After all, who wouldn’t want to be the one to snag a hot vampire or a dreamy heartthrob? But then I saw Carrie cheat on Aidan with Mr. Big, and suddenly, “too nice” became a valid reason to end a relationship. I was rooting for Aidan, but in hindsight, I recognize many of my past loves embodied the same traits as Mr. Big. I shifted my focus from the princes of my youth to the brooding, intense types who seemed to need rescuing. It’s nice to feel needed, right?
Stage Four: The Bad Boy Victory Phase
Then came my ultimate Mr. Big—the most intense and irrational love imaginable—who said yes when I brought up “forever.” We all know how that ends, don’t we?
What I’ve come to realize is that those troubled, intense men were precisely who they portrayed themselves to be. There were no layers to unravel; they were not complex beings but simply not that into me. They appreciated the devotion I offered, the laundry I did, and the dinners I paid for.
Regrettably, the narratives surrounding love haven’t changed much over the years. As a mother of young boys, what do I teach them? Should they aspire to be the Prince? The Mr. Big? Who will they look up to? I certainly don’t want them to believe that true love necessitates sacrificing one’s voice to the sea witch for a pretty pair of legs.
As I approach my late 30s, I don’t claim to have all the answers about love. However, I now recognize that kindness, bravery, supportiveness, intelligence, and humor are the traits I find most attractive and wish to instill in my boys. The allure of darkness and brooding might have been appealing for a time, but personally, I prefer to bask in the warmth of the light.
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