I use to believe in fairy tales. When I was a young teen, I dreamt of my knight in shiny armor. Since the age of 13 I have had an image of my dream man.
When I was 13, one night as I was sitting upon my bedroom floor reading a fiction novel (some Anne Rice novel), my back was to the bedroom door, and when I was finished with the chapter I was reading, I began to contemplate my future. The future I contemplated was with a man – the man of my dreams – and my future wedding.
First image that came to my mind was a blurry image of a woman in a pearl white wedding gown that had long flowing skirts, long lace like sleeves, and a heart shaped neckline. The woman who wore this dress had long brown hair, which was loosely curled by a curling iron, flowing over her bosom. The image was blurry, but it was clear she was walking down an aisle of a church. With this image came one of a groom – this image, too, was blurry, but it was clear he is tall, lean with short dark hair. With the glimpse of the groom, the image ended. This was the first time I imagined a wedding of my own, and the first time I caught a glimpse of my dream man.
After the “vision” ended I began to wonder how old I was in that vision, and who the man is. I became excited, happy, and felt special for seeing my own future (well, I thought it was my future at the time). I couldn’t wait to see more.
A couple hours later, as I was lying awake in bed, lost in my day dreams (I always have loved to daydream), the thoughts that crossed my mind before I drift into my night land of dreams, glimpses of the man of my dreams entered my mind once again, the blurry pix-elated image of the groom from my wedding vision. I imagined I was 23 years old, he around 28 years. I imaged I’d meet him when I’m 16, he’d be my high school sweetheart, we’d grow old together, and live happily ever after in true love, like those fairy tales and Disney movies told us kids. The image of the groom ended.
Once the groom image ended I looked, out of instinct, over to the entrance of my room, the door was open (I always leave the bedroom door open at night because of my dogs, they’d scratch at it and wake me up in the middle of the night if I didn’t), and at the threshold was an out of focus image of a man. He wasn’t picture perfect clear in this vision, but clear enough to make out details of his person. The man was tan, full grown, lean – and nude. His skin was smooth, flawless, hairless, and his body was toned. He began walking toward me as I looked at him.
When he was a few feet away from my bed his face came into focus; it was only a few seconds, but long enough for my mind to begin to race. His eyes were brown, strong square jaw, sharp nose, and deep brown eyes. Once I saw the glimpse of his face, the image faded.
That night was the beginning of my fantasies of the man of my dreams (sexual and non). The fantasy began to seem real, and the image of the man of my dreams began to come at what seemed like random times. The fantasies developed from short glimpses of what I called my future to full stories of my life. The fantasies were of how we met, how we got married (December wedding I imagined), to our honeymoon and children (we will have 3 children together, 2 boys and a girl, each 2 years a part), even to my career, he’d be with me each step of the way… These images, fantasies, gave me hope.
The years went on as these fantasies evolved. I’ve always had a colorful imagination that has helped me through life’s troubles. Some fantasy stories of mine came and went while others evolved and turned into future story lines. I’ll one day turn them into novels. This fantasy of my dream man never left, the image of the man’s features always remained the same.
I believed in my many fantasies for a long time, especially the one of my dream man. Even though my high school years, when I was shy, reserved, with very few friends and – NO boyfriends. I did not meet him in high school. First boyfriend at 16 years old prediction – was WRONG – check it off my future prediction list, mark it as a bust: “
I will have my 1st boyfriend at 16, we will be high school sweethearts”.
But, that’s ok, I thought then: I’m not 23 years old yet…
As always, like the Tracey Lawrence song states, time marches on. Days turn into weeks, weeks turn into months, months turn into years, like the sand through an hour glass, so are the Days of Our Lives…. (yes, I use to watch that soap opera). I turned 18 years old, graduated high school, and after high school had some not so serious boyfriends – but no dream man entered my life. I still had hope… not 23 years old yet…
(Model throwing my papers in the air after graduation – I’m FREE!!!) (Google images)
My college years came, and with that a new drive and purpose developed with my studies. From Psychology, to Sociology, to Human Development, to Social Work, with a trail of essays, research papers, and awkward presentations, I had plenty of self-determination and distraction to not even realize, or really think about, the fact my dream man has NOT – I repeat NOT – entered my life.
My 23rd year came. Realization dawned on me (angel music is heard…): Dream Man still isn’t in my life…. But hope is still high. I’ll graduate in May and have a job; my career will start…
2013 came and went. 2014 showed up, a stressful last spring semester began with a learning experience internship – filled with anxiety, insecurity, and NO PAY. May, 2014, rolled around. Graduation came and went, and I now have a BSW. No job lined up.
A small celebration and graduation high ended. My hope is wavering. I’m confused, lost, and filled with uncertainty. No dream man, no job [insert heavy sigh].
June, July, august, September… goes by. Summer ends, Fall begins. Last summer I did a lot of soul searching, as I sat on my as – I mean BUTT – hunting for jobs online. After a couple failed and at first embarrassing for me interviews, I realized what I wanted in my life, and I let go of my old fantasies I held so dearly onto for so many years. This summer I learned that working with the elderly in nursing homes and Hospice isn’t something I want to do at this point in time… I also learned a thing about growing pains, leaving one’s comfort zone, while entering adulthood. [read my two posts A trip back in time part 1 & 2 for more details]
My 24th birthday came, and I accepted the fact that my fantasies of my dream man were just fantasies, not true realities, and I now embrace solitude and the single life.
The fantasies I held onto for so long have helped me realize what I want in life. I watched as my sister went into one failed relationship after another, and I look at my parent’s dysfunctional relationship, and I learned by observation to not walk in their footsteps. So I made my own path in life, and I am walking my chosen path clumsily, slowly, but each baby step is a step forward, not backward. I’ve known what I wanted in a relationship at a young age, and I’m fortunate for that. I’ve yet to have heartache due to a failed relationship with a man. I have stayed focused on developing a career, which I am slowly beginning now, as a behavioral tech in a school setting. I’ve learned to be in the now rather than creating grandiose future possibilities in my mind. The future is NOW… right?
I don’t believe in fairy tales anymore. I no longer need a knight in shiny armor to save me. I saved myself. I don’t need someone to be the better person, higher than me, but equal to me. If and when it happens… that’s for fate to decide. For now, I’ll enjoy life’s journey… where ever I go… dreams become reality with action.
I use to believe in fairy tales… I use to believe in fantasy… and I still believe in daydreams…
No body is perfect and accepting another person’s flaws, and communicating how you feel, will create a healthy long lasting relationship: