I mourn for my princess phase.
This evening I spent time with my cousin’s three-year old daughter. Dressed as a princess and twirling around the kitchen, she told me how she was “going to marry a prince and live happily ever after.”
Looking at her longingly, a realised I missed that blissful ignorance of a princess phase that only a little girl has.
The way in which you believe that love is something easy. That the first handsome man who sets eyes on you is the one that courts you, dines you, and treats you like a lady. The way he tells you how beautiful you are, before whisking you away in the sunset, ready to be married and live happily ever after.
Sadly, I’ve outgrown that phase. I’ve realised love is not that easy, nor is it pain-free. The love little Millie is dreaming of is sadly very likely to never occur. That handsome man may set the same eyes on other women, he may not treat her like a lady, tell her how much she means to him and may never plan on marrying her. I’ve learned the more realistic side of love, the side that withholds you from wanting to try again, and the side that makes you lose faith in the whole principle of it.
But, I wish nothing more to have Millie’s naivety back.
Even more that, I want to protect Millie’s happiness. Looking at her now, hopes set on this future with her prince charming, I never want her to stray from this. At the age of three, she’s so young, so pure and so free from limitations. No one has ever hurt her, or broken her trust, or made her feel like she cannot achieve anything. Most of all, she hasn’t discovered that love has painful repercussions that Disney doesn’t show her.
And I want to do my utmost to carry on this facade. I want her to carry on being optimistic in love. I want to wrap her up in my arms and use my own flesh as a personal shield against any boy who will break her heart or make her doubt herself. I don’t want her to lose her innocence. I don’t want her to feel the internal bleeding of heart ache. Most of all, I don’t want her to lose her princess phase like I did. I don’t want her to forget her own fairytale and settle for reality.
I would rather feel endure this past month over and over again rather than let her have to experience this kind of pain once in her life.
But I can’t, and that hurts me more than anything else.
So just as I mourn for my princess phase, I mourn the fact that hers too will end one day.
I just pray that she may have a fairytale ending instead.