All of my life, I’ve tried to pretend to be someone other than what I am. An international thief, a musical guru, a nurse during the civil war, a princess, a mechanic and a witch. Some in happier lives than mine and some in more dire. Every imaginary role I was in though, they all had one theme in common. I was a stronger woman. More courageous and independent I wasn’t afraid of love. Or human attachment. 3
Yes, like every other pathetic women in the world, every imaginary life would have the perfect man. In my case though, my prince charming didn’t have to be tall dark and handsome. All he had to do was have confidence in me. He had to make me feel special. To feel loved. Of course we would have our problems in the beginning. We would irritate each other incessantly. We would argue all the time (all the while building a deep passion for each other). And then in one explosive moment, he would grab me and kiss me. We would each lose ourselves in that perfect kiss. Then he would take a step back. Grab hold of my hand and look deeply into my eyes. He would tell me of how he’s thought of nothing but me. How we are so wrong for each other, but he wants me by his side. He’d tell me that he loves me. My eyes would start to water. My voice a pained whisper as I tell him that he’s standing on my foot. Then I’d laugh softly and tell him that I can’t think of anyone I’d rather be with than him. And then he’d hold me. 4
It’s at this point that I realize it’s only pretend. That there is no one who thinks I’m special. No one who makes me feel loved. I would remember that I’ve closed my heart to men. That I’ve made a sacred vow never to fall into that pitiful trap again. In reality after he has kissed you passionately he would ask you to go back to his place to look at his Spelling Bee Championship Ribbons. And because we are women…. We go. We figure after a kiss like that, he must really care. He must really love me. 5
We’d go back to his place, and then, after having really great sex, he would casually mention that he just remembered that he has an early meeting. And politely asks if he can call a cab. But of course he says… I’ll call you. We’d wait by the phone for a few days. A week later he’ll be luring some other dumb girl with the same old line.6
Why do we fall for it. you ask? It’s really simple. Because women want to be in love. We need to feel desired. We need a man to validate us, so we know that we have purpose. I need a man. I need him to take care of me. To make me feel special. To show me I’m loved. To remind me that I was successful in life. 7
Pretty pathetic, huh.8
But I have strayed to far off topic. The point of this is not to ramble about my philosophy on love. Or lament over my lack of a love life. The point is… the point is…. you know, I don’t really know what the point is. Oh, I remember now. It’s about needing to be a strong woman. One who is more courageous and more independent. 9
I have always wished that I could be more than what I am. I also wanted adventure. Who would have though that my own personal journey would be more perilous than anything that I could pretend. Who knew that reality was sometimes more fearless than any imaginary quest. So what if I wasn’t discovering the Mayan ruins. I set out to discover something more… personal. And frightening….. myself.
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