I will never be a princess. Ever.Grew up adoring Disney, as most girls my age did. Was a princess for Halloween three years in a row. Was a princess for Halloween with the dress snugly over my snowsuit. Was a princess at playtime, nap-time, during breakfast and during school. The only time I was not a princess was when I was a cat. Classic.
I was absolutely dedicated to being a princess. A+. I wanted to be Sailor Moon too but princess first. I wanted all that came with being a princess. The beauty, the dresses, the big library and the talking animals that made me dresses. I wanted to be able to sing and dance and be naturally graceful and have everyone love me. These are classic princess traits! However, despite all my efforts I ended up in the exact opposite of that. For starters, I cannot dance. At all, I do a weird jig when a song comes on that I enjoy but that's as far as it goes. As for singing? Well I can toot my own horn and that's about it.
Mainly though I lack the grace of a princess. Instead of an almost weightless way of walking I was blessed with potato squashing feet that hammer down with each step. Instead of the way princesses float with ease I smash into every living and non living entity in a five mile radius when I do even the littlest of tasks.
I own no glasses. I have a collection of sturdy mugs and plastic kiddie cups. These please me because I cannot break them. I own no fine china or glass figurines.
Since I was very small I've broken everything in sight. Everyone who knows me knows to err on the side of caution when asking me to do things.
Clear the dishes off the table? Nope!
Need something from a shelf that is more than average shoulder height? Oh no!
Carry anything ever?Never!
Want to hold my baby?! Oh wow no!
Princesses also never forgot anything important. Princesses don't lose their debit cards three times a year because they think a safe place to keep them is in their bras. Princesses don't have to climb through their castle windows because they keep forgetting their fucking keys on the dining room table I can fucking see them they are right there! Goddammit.
I've come to terms with my clumsiness. Originally I hoped it would be endearing. Quirky even! Unique and funny like how Ariel doesn't know how to use a fork or how Cinderella doesn't know that it's weird to talk to rodents like that. Dude she made them hats.
It's not endearing though when you forget your wallet and your bestie has to pay for your socks again. It's not quirky when you leave your purse on a bus in a strange city and you are crying while bus drivers try to find out what the hell to do with you.
It makes for a shitty time as an adult. It also makes you a little more laid back.
When you lose your shit so often you become less attached to objects. When you are used to bad shit happening to you luck wise you get over things a bit quicker.
Lost your bus pass again? Guess you felt like walking! Oh rain? Totally cool, you needed to shower anyway.
Hell, might as well leave your keys at work and have to call your landlord to open you door!
Don't get me wrong, it's still absolute shit when you punch yourself in the face putting pants on, but you learn to laugh at yourself in the meantime.
