In my 20s I left the victim scenarios behind but not the longing for Prince Charming. It shifted into looking for the perfect relationship that wouldn't require any effort from me. It was all about being chosen for just breathing and having the right look. There was always this secret thought when meeting someone new: "Are you the one?"
In my 30s, when I was pregnant and my real-life partner had abandoned me, I found returned to imagining Prince Charming swooping in to kick my ex's ass -- hard -- and then look after me financially and emotionally. Of course, he would love the child as his own.
In my 50s I stopped watching romantic chick-flicks designed to make you feel bad about yourself. There was not going to be any Richard to make me feel like a Pretty Woman, no tearful reunion with Tom where I could complete him, no Mr Big buying me a Manhattan condo and certainly no-one visiting me in the senior's residence to cure my Alzheimers. Kudos to Dina Goldstein for making me laugh with her brutally real series called Fallen Princesses.
While waiting for Prince Charming, I ended up having a pretty amazing life surrounded by friends who became family, family who became friends and a daughter who taught me what love really is about. Now, I celebrate Valentine's Day Mexican style as a day of friendship. Hugs to all of them!
I would be lying if I didn't admit to thinking about Prince Charming on Valentine's Day. That fucker is really late with the chocolate and roses.