We live in a society obsessed with love stories. If I had to sum up modern fairy tales in one phrase, it would be happy endings—a.k.a. happily ever after. The heroine gets the prince, and off into the sunset they ride.
This concept of happily ever after has become such a staple of storytelling that “fairy tale” has turned into an adjective for the most perfect form of romance. Fairy tale courtships that end in fairy tale weddings and happy lives thereafter. I find it fascinating that the happily ever after trope holds such power over our real-life expectations of romance, especially for young women. As the great Oscar Wilde once put it, “Life imitates Art far more than Art imitates Life.”
This also means that people often rake fairy tales over the coals for giving girls unrealistic ideas about love. While I do think kids are better at separating fantasy from reality than we think they are, I can also attest there are some major downsides to the happily ever after fantasy that all those Disney movies are preaching. And yet some parts of fairy tale romance—for me at least—turned out to be true.
Which is why I’d like to share my own story of looking for The One.
First, Some Important Context
I grew up in a very conservative religious culture that highly values marriage and families. As a result, the girls I grew up with (me included) were surrounded by female role models who married young.
We all had a pretty set idea of how our young adulthood would unfold. We’d graduate high school at 18, go to college where we’d meet lovely boys, marry one of those boys by age 23-ish, get pregnant by 25, and finish having kids by 30. Give or take a year or two max.
When I was a teenager, I genuinely thought finding my husband would be easy. That love just happens. A lot of happily married women I admired used that exact phrase when talking about their love stories: that meeting the right person and falling in love “just happens.”
Love happens that way in fairy tales too. Boy meets beautiful girl at a ball. Boy falls in love with girl by midnight. Girl drops her slipper for boy to find. Boy scours the entire kingdom to find gorgeous girl he intends to marry. Boy and girl have their fairy tale wedding and ride off into the sunset. And live happily ever after.
I was smart enough to know that fairy tales aren’t a reliable script for real life, and yet that little piece about love just blooming when it was meant to happen? That part sounded correct to me. And I really genuinely believed that the typical path of marrying by 25 would happen to me too.
Spoiler alert: that’s not even close to what happened, but we’ll get there.
The Wonderful, Confusing World of Dating
In my life, I’ve been a late bloomer in more ways than one, but especially in dating. Most of the girls I knew spent high school flirting, dating, and attending every school dance they could afford. Meanwhile I was too busy with my 4.0 schoolwork (and frankly too socially anxious) to give dating much thought.
Don’t get me wrong, I wanted to date very much. It’s just that I had no idea how to go about it. I didn’t have guy friends, and I was the smart, shy type who boys tend to avoid like the plague. This is probably why my first date ever was a blind date. Set up by two moms. I really wish I was kidding. The boy did end up being nice, and later he asked me to Senior Prom 48 hours before the dance. It was a magical night, but I was also highly aware that my date had decided to go last minute. And he’d asked me because I was the only girl he knew who didn’t already have a date.
When I was nineteen years old, it finally happened: a college boy asked me out on my first real date ever. To put it lightly, I was THRILLED. Getting asked out by someone who was attracted to me was just about everything I’d ever hoped or dreamed! Buuuuuuuut the boy ended up being a weirdo who couldn’t take a hint when I didn’t want to go out with him again. Ever. Buh-bye.
And so began my very long and very frustrating tango with dating.
Four Truths of Dating
As my twenties began, I went on occasional dates but continued struggling to attract male attention. Soon I came to realize four basic truths about dating that explained most of my troubles:
#1: Introverts and Dating Do Not Mix
Introverts like solitude. We also find getting evaluated by male strangers while spending hours pretending to be more upbeat and pleasant than we actually are INCREDIBLY exhausting. One mediocre date was enough to wipe me out for the entire weekend. And honestly? I preferred spending my weekends reading books, watching movies, investing in already-existing friendships, and wrapping up in comfy blankets to enjoy personal alone time. Newsflash: none of these activities help you meet boys.
#2: There’s a Difference Between Who You Want and Who You Can Get
Simply stated: the type of guys I liked didn’t seem to want anything to do with me. Boys with great futures, great attitudes, and reasonably attractive faces? These were the boys who only went for the top 20% of college girls. Blonde, easy-going girls who were peppy and dated every weekend. I was none of those things, and it felt like every prince I could see was passing me by for someone else.
#3: People Tend to Date & Marry Themselves
I believe in the opposites attract philosophy to an extent, but I also believe that most people marry someone at the same maturity level who shares the same values and is at the same spot in their life. This . . . was a problem for me. Because I’d never met anyone who matched my personality. Also I was born about 34 years old, so fitting in with people my own age had always been a struggle. Finding a boy that matched me? Good luck.
#4: Boys Are Incredibly Insecure
I was 21 when a dinner date told me to my face that I intimidated him. Because women who have some clue what they want to do with their lives are intimidating. I grew to hate that word and how often boys, my friends, and my parents would eagerly remind me of it. And that maybe I should tone it down a bit? Like find someone who likes you for you, but maybe hold off telling him everything until later? From where I was sitting, trying to hide my intimidation factor was half the reason why problem #3 wasn’t getting fixed.
Reality Setting In
At 22 years old, I started to panic. This whole finding-my-prince thing was NOT working out, but I really was trying! I went to college events all the time, but these experiences were so exhausting and unfruitful that they didn’t seem worth it anymore. The only big, loud activities I truly enjoyed were college social dances—which were mostly filled with men who were already married or gay. Not helpful.
Add on top of this that virtually every girl I knew was either dating someone seriously or engaged. The pressure was mounting, but no matter how hard I tried, this destiny meet cute I’d heard for years would just happen to me, ushering in my happily ever after . . . it was not happening.
FINALLY in my last semester of college, I met my first boyfriend in a class. And he was super into me in every possible way. One slight problem: he didn’t seem right for me, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on why . . . Five weeks later when he started pressuring me to marry him, I realized that this guy was emotionally abusive and controlling. And I promptly broke up with him. He proceeded to stalk me for a couple weeks and buy a contract to live in my complex. In the apartment with a window that looked directly into my apartment. I moved and never looked back.
For what it’s worth, I learned a lot by dating stalker boyfriend. I was WAY more confident with dating in general, and I dated a lot in those next two years. I even found boyfriend #2, a much nicer person who I genuinely enjoyed dating. But in the end we decided we weren’t right for each other either and parted ways. And age 25 came and went.
This was the point I started to give up. In the past decade I had only had two committed relationships that lasted about 6 months combined. I’d spent the rest of my adult life in what I call Relationship Purgatory. That wishy-washy part of dating where two strangers are trying to impress each other, pretend to like each other way less than they actually do, and spend hours of headspace analyzing what the other person might be thinking. Even though you have NO CLUE. In a word, I was exhausted.
Princess in a Tower
At 27 years old, still very single and working full-time, I finally slowed down enough to realize I was having a quarter-life crisis. Which is how I ended up in a therapist’s office talking about why getting married was SO important to me. For the record, I think every grown adult on earth needs therapy for something, but the point is that I figured out some important stuff.
The first was that happily ever after in the fairy tale sense is WAY too narrow an interpretation of happiness. Because it’s just untrue that marriage is the only possible way to live your best life. I had been buying into this fantasy my entire life, not just because I read fairy tales, but because everyone in real life had told me this. That romantic love and having a family should be my #1 focus to hang my happiness on.
But there’s a catch. Our dating culture in America, and particularly in my conservative religious culture, follows a pretty set script of gender roles. Roles in which men pursue and women wait. If men want a wife, they put on their armor, jump on a horse, and ride and quest until they find the perfect mate. Women? Theoretically there’s plenty we can do to make ourselves socially available, more attractive, more open, less intimidating, more alluring, etc., etc., etc.
But really? There’s not a whole lot we can do besides wait to be chosen. I was Rapunzel trapped in her tower, waiting to throw my hair down to a passing prince. And after almost a decade, he still hadn’t come. This is honestly the best comparison I can make:
I can relate to that song on a spiritual level. But you know what else I figured out in therapy?
Even Girls in Fairy Tales Waited
We’re all very quick to focus on the romantic parts of fairy tale stories, but those heroines had to survive quite a bit before love “just happened” to them.
Cinderella slaved for a decade. Snow White survived murder and went into hiding and then a coma. Beauty got kidnapped and had to live with a hairier, angrier version of her guy for who knows how long. And Rapunzel did indeed spend her whole life trapped in a tower and bored to death with no escape or happily ever after in sight.
Thinking about this made me realize: most people who share love success stories tend to leave out the harsh, sad, and annoying parts. It’s incredibly common to see other people in love and never know what they overcame to find that relationship. Even marriages that look easy are almost never as smooth sailing as they appear. And despite the happily ever after fantasy, people don’t leave their problems behind once they’re married. Which is why miserable single people tend to turn into miserable married people.
That last bit really struck me. Because if I was honest with myself, relationship status aside, I actually had a pretty awesome life as a 27-year-old woman. I had a bachelor’s degree and a successful career. I lived in an awesome apartment close enough to see my family regularly. I was running a writing group and had already written two books. And day to day I was actually pretty happy when I wasn’t falling apart over guys rejecting me.
Bottom line: I didn’t want to rot in a tower waiting for a prince to ride up with my happiness. And I was finally in a place to realize that happiness is a choice, not a far-off land you’re waiting to be taken to.
Becoming Queen
All of a sudden, I was 28. Still single, but doing much better post-therapy. And dating A LOT at this point since I was trying out the choppy waters of online dating. But most importantly, I’d stopped waiting to be happy.
The summer of 2016, I made the exciting and terrifying decision to buy a house. What started out as casual looking ended in finding an absolute dream house in a city with the best library ever. My offer beat out six other offers, and on Fourth of July weekend I moved.
Life didn’t magically become perfect or anything, but one morning a year later, I woke up realizing I was living my ideal life. I was making a living off my college degree. I was writing retold fairy tales for teens. I had friends and financial stability and a clear path to my future goals. And I really was happy.
To be clear, I was still waiting for my prince to arrive because there’s nothing wrong with wanting to be married. What changed was that I’d forged ahead, built my own castle, and become a queen in my own right. I’d chosen happily ever after for myself. And if some prince on his horse thought I was intimidating, so what? I wasn’t looking for a boy anymore. I was looking for a grown man. A man who would take one look at my kingdom and everything I’d overcome and know right away that I was The One he’d ridden the world to find.
And when that man did arrive, I was pretty sure I would recognize him when I saw him. ❧
