Monday, September 05, 2005
i don't want to be a princess anymore ... sniff sniff
I admit it. I'm a closet romantic cracking the door open to see if it's safe to come out. I'm not convinced yet. But movies like Roman Holiday don't help much.
I remember it was about three years ago that I saw Roman Holiday for the first time. It was just before Dolly and I would take our own "Roman Holiday."
There we sat ... two young woman with the worst reputations of extreme independence ever known to Pensacola Christian College. Guys knew that the only chance of making our acquaintance was if they had very good credentials and references. And only then were they allowed to be friends ... never more. We had a certain distrust for their gender, having been witnesses of too many examples of stupidity and blatant disregard for decency. She and I were self-sufficient, content in our little worlds in which there was no room for men (except, of course, our jolly art comrads).
Rarely would you see us stand by and wait for a guy to open a door for us ... as if we had the time! No date for the next cultural event ? ... who cared! Our girlfriends were good enough for us.
"No, that's okay. I don't need help carrying my bookbag, canvas, art box, and portfolio. I'm certainly capable of managing on my own."
We didn't hate men ... we just had very little patience for them.
So, there we sat, she and I, the spokeswomen for "anything he can do, I can do better," ... wide-eyed ... leaning forward ... lips quivering ... then *gasp*
"She didn't come back!" we sobbed.
Here, both of us had fallen in love with Gregory Peck and with the story of a princess who would leave it all behind for a man she'd only known for twenty-four hours. But when the press conference ended, and the princess, Audrey Hepburn, left the room ... there he stood ... waiting ... knowing that she would come back out just to see him. He waited ... then he turned and walked slowly away, but still with a slight smile, as if knowing ... she'll be out soon. But she didn't ... she didn't come ...
"I don't want to be a princess anymore ... whaaaa!" we wailed.
That's not the way it was supposed to end. Wasn't she supposed to forsake her duties to her country, leaving behind her parents, the king and queen, disregarding the good faith of her people, and run into the arms of this rugged, poor newspaper reporter ... all for the sake of LOVE?!! Well, of course she made the right decision. But Dolly and I realized that we never want to be in the place where we would have make such a choice ... which meant giving up our hopes of one day being restored to our true positions as royal highnesses in some obscure European nation.
ha ha. Now there's a glimpse of us that VERY FEW ever got to see. Christine Hnat ... a romantic? Please. You're joking, right?
I wonder how it all happened that I decided to let people think that I was beyond the need for love. When did I begin convincing others that i believed that logic was enough to sustain a healthy lifestyle, ignoring the need for vulnerability? But a life of logic is a very lonely one, indeed.
My attitude towards men still needs adjustment. I struggle with allowing men to open doors for me. A part of me still thinks that it's silly ... I can open it myself ... it would be just as easy for me to open it. But my inner romanitc screams for me to step aside, enjoy this expression of chivalry, let men be MEN.
This concepts shakes me to the core.
Let men be men. It's an interesting idea for an experiment. Oh, not on the men ... but for myself. Can I do it? And can I allow myself to be a woman who embraces her romantic, vulnerable side? Why do I fear this? Why does it shake me so?