Sunday, 24 April 2011

It should(n't) have been me

It was only the other day that it finally hit me. Contrary to the beliefs of my childhood self, I am never going to be a princess. It was quite a blow. The first thing I did was head to the hairdressers to have them cut the Rapunzel rope I had been cultivating for well over a year. 

I am still recovering from the trauma of the sickening realisation that I will never, ever marry a prince.

I don't know who I was kidding really. I suppose Princess Libby would be a little out of the ordinary. But luckily I have always had my far more regal christened name, Elisabeth Ann to fall back on. Despite the name, things weren't really looking that great in the princess department. My carriage is the bus, my glass slippers are a pair of heels that are too high to walk in, and as for a tall tower - well I live on the third floor.

The funny thing is, I don't envy Kate Middleton at all. I am positively delighted for her, don't get me wrong, but has anyone else noticed that Prince William's hair line is receding faster than high tide?  I also don't particularly fancy seeing my face on every china (or, worse, plastic) surface in Great Britain. It would be like walking through a labryinth of (sometimes scarily skewed) mirrors.

No, the princess I wanted to be was one whose life began with 'Once upon a time' and ended snugly with 'Happily Ever After'. I wanted to be a fairytale princess. The castle, the fairy godmother, the twirling dress, the pumpkin carriage and most of all, the dashing prince... I dreamt of it all.

I have accepted the fact that I will never be a real life princess, or a fairytale one come to that. But perhaps I should take advice from young Sara in Frances Hodgson Burnett's 'A little Princess'. "I am a princess. All girls are. Even if they live in tiny old attics. Even if they dress in rags, even if they aren't pretty, or smart, or young. They're still princesses. All of us."

In this case perhaps I shouldn't give up on the princess idea altogether. Maybe I'll just go for my own version of princessdom; one that involves baking cakes and drinking cider and steers well clear of dodgy skirt suits. That sounds much more fun.

P.S Applications for prince should be made in writing. Sense of humour and cooking skills essential. Castle optional.


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