My Princess Story
I now have a completed synopsis and chapters I’m happy with. Whew. Still need to write a cover letter, but that will be easy. Due to the royal wedding tomorrow I will be glued to my televison from early morning on, and my writer’s group meeting here on Saturday, I am thinking it is time to let my proposal sit a few days. I’ll review it Sunday and if I still think it’s great, I’ll whip up a cover letter and send the packet out on Monday. Meanwhile, this royal wedding reminds me of another one many years ago…
I was going through a tough time in my marriage. I had two little boys, neither in school yet. I wanted my marriage to work, for myself, but most of all, for them. I was giving things one last shot by seeing a marriage counselor. My ex went once, and then said “I’m fine. You’re the unhappy one, so you go to therapy.” At the time, it seemed like good advice. I put my ex on a pedestal. He was smart, perfect, the prince who’d rescued me from life behind the bar, pouring beers and mixing drinks. I believed everything he said. The marriage was falling apart because I was unhappy and that was my problem, not his.
I had a woman shrink at the time. She was a little older than I was, maybe in her 30s. She was very reserved, but she also made me feel safe. She listened to and validated me. She tried hard to get me to look realistically at my marriage. The day Diana and Charles married, I had a session. I came into her office and said “Charles and Di are married!”
She pounced. Did I feel entitled to be treated like a princess? No, I said, appalled that she could think that. I was just carried away by the exuberance of the day. The fairy tale aspect to the wedding. At least some people got their happy ending. She didn’t buy it. “It’s not the ending, it’s the beginning. Weren’t you happy at the beginning?” I admitted I’d been delirious with joy for five years.
The therapist couldn’t save my marriage. She even sent us to a specialist, who also couldn’t do anything to help us, though she tried. We split up and several years later so did Charles and Diana. When that divorce became public, I remembered my therapist’s words. She was more right than I’d realized.
That’s not to say I am not completely taken with all the hoopla of this new wedding. I am! And it’s not because I want to be a princess. I’d rather be a queen, thank you;-)