Apparently today was also "try your damnedest to make Claire cry". Oh well.
Also, 2 really cool things. Japan is 13 hours ahead of Barbados, so with a little time zone fandangling, I have a 37 hour birthday :) And, with my traipsing up and down the world, I've been responding to wellwishes in 4 languages. You know that just made my day! (Apparently, I don't have enough French-speaking friends, so my 2nd language was dormant today.)
This whole week, I'm looking at the essence of me. Today is the perfect day to look at love.
Remember in yesterday's post about dreams, that society isn't very forgiving of adults who dream? Well, it's the same with some views of love.
I believe in Prince Charming. I don't think he's perfect. Heck, I don't even know what perfect is. But I think he's fantastic, and so amazing that even when you hate him, you still love him. And I think that Prince Charming is personal. It's not that a guy has to be Prince Charming for the whole world, he just has to be Prince Charming for you.
A lot of people will think that's childish. But those people that got lucky enough to meet their soulmates and make a life with them, probably can't imagine it any other way. For them, Prince Charming is real. That's not to say that you don't have to work hard at making a relationship work though.
Apart from Prince Charming, there's another issue with being a woman who believes in love. For thousands and thousands of years, women were oppressed. In lots of places, we still are, and sometimes even in "the civilised world," we're discriminated against. (I don't think that's as true in Barbados, but that's a post for a future Caribbean Context.) Anyway, somewhere in there, women decided enough was sufficient, as they say at home.
So women fought. They fought for the right to vote. And later, they fought for the right to get out of the kitchen. Wanting a "Vivimos felices y comimos perdices" (living happily, eating partidges or the Spanish equivalent of Happily Ever After) seems like a betrayal. It feels like there's pressure from the society at large, but I think a lot of women put pressure on themselves as well. How can I dream of being married, and staying at home and raising kids in the face of all the bras burned?
Truth is, it's hard to find a balance between home and work. It's not easy being mother, wife, worker bee. But it can be done. Wanting to love and be loved is a normal human desire. And a lot of women don't stop to think that men want this too. Wanting love is not a betrayal of the fairer sex.
I believe in the power of love. I can't say that it triumphs over everything. But it triumphs over a lot. I can't say that everything in the world is because two people fell in love. But a lot of it is. Love dulls pain. It lends strength. It makes people better, bigger than they are. Love is greater than the sum of its parts.
How can I say all this as a single woman? Maybe you think I'm just saying it because I am single. Maybe you think I've forgotten how difficult it is to have a relationship. How much compromising is involved. All the things you don't have to deal with when it's just you? Maybe you think I'm idealising it, because I'm not there.
But I'm not. I have a realistic view of relationships. And yes, my views on love are influenced by the fact that I'm not hanging off a man's arm. But in a good way, I think. I can't help thinking that Cinderella had her step sisters, and Snow White had the Evil Queen. After the struggles, there has to be something great coming.
Haven't Met You Yet
Having a man/husband doesn't define me. That doesn't stop me from dreaming about it. I want to wake up next to someone. I want a shoulder to cry on, and someone who's brave enough to cry on mine. I want someone to share the laughter, because a lot of my life is spent laughing. My face hurts many a day from over-laughing. I'm sorry if that goes against what some women believe, but I want to share that bond.
Maybe that's silly. Or crazy. But I'm a silly crazy person.
And I'm a child of love.
(Not to be confused with a love child - where did that term come from anyway? Are children born in marriage not born of love?)