Glass Shoes Are Not For Tap Dancing
I was a young woman in the mid to late 1970’s. A fairly strong gust of liberation had blown through the decade previous. Those of us who embraced it thought that the winds of change were going to make it a better place for us, our mothers, and our future daughters.
Then there were the women sitting next to me in Women’s Lit class. They were specifically sent to college to get their M.R.S. degree. They admitted it openly. The took random classes in English, Art, and Physical Education. Not athletic classes, those were for “different women”, but things like Tennis, Bowling, and Tap Dance. They were sent to college to find and become worthy of marrying a lawyer, doctor, or any other high paying professional.
God forbid they came home with a teacher or social worker.
I understood those women. They were brought up by the same generation that I had been raised by, and they had been taught early on the advantage of being provided for in a comfortable manner. After all ,it’s just as easy to fall in love with a rich man than a poor one, right?
It worked for them, until it didn’t. The divorce rate in my generation has skyrocketed.
Now I hear the young ones in their early twenties, say things like:
“If I could only find my Prince Charming.”
This is where it’s finally great to be me, because I have a comeback to this fallacy. I have had this comeback for years. It stems from my disgust at what Disney did to our fairy tales, but that’s another blog.
My comeback:
So you want to find Prince Charming? You know that means don’t you? You have to be Cinderella, right? Think about that, Cinderella was an orphan housemaid who sat in ashes, was forced to dance in glass shoes, and her best friends were two mice.
No thanks, I’ll stay away from Prince Charming.
I actually created a de-motivational poster for it yesterday.
It needs work.
In the world of tribes, I would be considered the Old Crone. I would be expected to pass on wisdom to the younger ones, and they would be expected to listen and take heed. Since I have no cultural tribe, I will use this vehicle to pass on some wisdom. This is wisdom gained by observing many friends with many failed relationships and marriages.
It’s hard out there. Alone, with no one having your back, is scary. Marrying your insurance is not the answer. Find your own way, and remember that finding a partner is like shoes, there is always a match out there somewhere.
You may be dancing alone for a while, but it’s better than trying to tap dance in glass slippers.
Like isn’t really a true statement. I love this. Tap dancing was never my forte.
Pingback: I’ll Never Grow Up–NOT ME. | My Life As A Slinky
Love.