It can be awfully hard to spot a fake Gucci Bag, if you’ve never seen the real thing. Unfortunately, love kinda works the same way. You’d be hard-pressed to spot a counterfeit lover if you’ve never experienced pure, unadulterated love. You need some kind of model.
What do you do if you don’t have a model for love? Well, if you’re anything like me, you make one up. I though Disney movies seemed perfectly suitable to identify true love (happily ever after sounded good to me).
Besides, in my mind, I was a princess anyway, so naturally, I needed a prince. I couldn’t be just any prince though, it had to be the tall, dreamy type from the movies. I was on the lookout for him for a long time but I couldn’t seem to find him. I began to think maybe Prince Charming only exists in the movies.
But just when I was ready to give up, low and behold who do I pass on the way to lunch but an absolutely gorgeous specimen. “YESSSSS!” I thought to myself, “This is him! I finally found Prince Charming!” He was tall like Prince Charming, he had amazing hair like Prince Charming, he had a killer smile like Prince Charming, and he drove a dope carriage like Prince Charming.
You see, I thought because he looked like Prince Charming, he would love me the way Prince Charming loved his princess. He seemed to have a great personality and he even had a little swagger but not obnoxious aristocratic swag, it was more like a sexy street swagger. You know, kind of like Aladdin. But, chile, once I got to know him, he was less like Aladdin and more like Jafar!
He expected me to give up my voice to be with him, just like Ariel. He wanted me to cook for him all the time, like I was Tiana. He never wanted to do anything with my friends, only his, so like Snow White, I was constantly surrounded by seven dwarfs! And sure, he was beautiful but I felt like locked away like Rapunzel.
One day, I finally thought to myself this is NOT the princess fantasy I had in mind. So like Sleeping Beauty, I finally snapped out of it and left my prince like Cinderella when the clock struck twelve.
Leaving my prince was tough and not just because he was gorgeous. It was hard because I acknowledge a fake standard for what prince charming was supposed to be. He can’t just look perfect on the outside like some tall, handsome wealthy royal, he was someone who treats me like royalty. Now that I have the right criteria, I’m ready to spot the real thing.