Cinderella Has Left the Building

Once upon a time in a faraway kingdom
Man made up a story said that I should believe him.
Go and tell your white knight that he’s handsome in hindsight,
But I don’t want the next best thing.
So I sing and hold my head down and I break these walls round me.
Can’t take no more of your fairytale love.

-Sarah Bareilles

I’m 36 years old, single, and two weeks ago began my latest heartbreak. After spending the time thereafter wallowing in my own self pity, watching Tivo’ed selections of “Say Anything“, “Some Kind of Wonderful“, and Huang Feihong: Bravely Crushing the Fire Formation, (Hey. I have both a penchant for buggery and 70’s Kung Fu.) I had a moment of clarity. As I paused from my eyebrow plucking to wipe the cream puff off my chin I realized, no matter how hard I tried, I wasn’t going to be able to rationalize or explain why he suddenly became a douchebag. I was either going to make a run to Publix in my flip flops and scrubs for more Doritos or I was going to get off my rapidly-expanding ass and do something to change my own fate. I realized that my whole life wasn’t going to magically change when Colin roamed the countryside to find me a rare, Scottish, 4-hour-blooming thistle served with a body shot of perfect whiskey. And Large certainly isn’t going to gently rock me in the Jacuzzi tub and tell me he feels safe in my arms after I’ve captured his solitary tear in a fucking Dixie cup.

I mean, seriously, how much time have we wasted asking ourselves what we did wrong to make a relationship end? How often have we shut our eyes tightly and swore we would sell our souls to the Devil if he  allowed us to travel back in time for a do-over of the night that was sure to be the cause of our most recent relationship crash and burn? At what point do we cease to become the martyr and begin to be confident in our many gifts?

My point started today. I’m a fucking catch (Despite saying “fuck”. A lot.). I’m an artist. I read books without pictures. I can tear down and re-build a computer in hours without breaking a nail. I have produced and single-handedly reared an amazing child. Well, at least for 7 years and 19 days and she is not yet in therapy. I am intelligent.  I have tattoos. I’m Nigella in the kitchen and a Dita in the bedroom. I have perfectly straight teeth and cute toes.

I’m going to embark on new adventures, new ways of dating and meeting quality people and why not bring a bunch of people along for the ride? You’re going to keep me honest. Keep me in check. Slap me upside the head when I move into self-deprecation and doubt. In other words, this will be the story of how the proverbial Cinderella mentality will be squashed and one woman realizes that her happy ending will be accomplished through her own beginnings.


~ by PoshmarkPaige on May 4, 2009.

10 Responses to “Cinderella Has Left the Building”

  1. I admire you. I need your strength to get me through my own. i really do.

  2. We’ll do it together!

  3. May the adventure be the gift.

    I hope you find a very wonderful person, though I am voting for the XX variety over the XY…

  4. Karma has a way of rewarding us when we least expect it. Don’t give up, you have too many good times of head of you.

  5. Sounds good to me!

  6. Great start babe. I need to write again.

  7. hey sweetie! i must say you have great taste in music, i love ms sara! great idea for a blog, and i’ll be keepin’ an eye out… same situation, and all. 😉
    good luck!

  8. good post.i have to admit i laughed when you said you read books without pictures.Life isnt a fairytale.

  9. Very funny yet sad, little one. Great writing nonetheless!

  10. Thoughtful and entertaining and honest. So glad I found your writing thru Twitter, gonna get my read on, and live + comment in the past – I need to catch up 🙂

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