The Fairy Tale

I grew up with them.


My grandma used to take my siblings and me on walks through the woods and tell us stories of the gnomes hiding under the toadstools; of the fairies that had caught their hair on the trees, leaving it behind as lichen; of the trolls that lived under the massive stumps and flossed their fangs, waiting for prey.

And I loved stories of princes and princesses.

And I loved stories of happily ever after.

And I believed in them-- with my whole, young heart.

This week, I told my AP class that I didn't like stories with easy endings anymore. "I love the stories that show brokenness," I told them. "I like the stories that show flawed people, struggling to make their best life in this world. Stories that end too happily, that end too easily... I just can't believe those. They don't ring true to me anymore."

It's amazing how growing up changes things, isn't it?

My favorite movie is When Harry met Sally, a hilarious romantic comedy that nevertheless shows two very real people struggling towards love. They're flawed, they're hopeful, they fight, they overcome... they're real.

I believe them. I believe that happy ending.

One of my LEAST favorite movies, however, is Love Actually. I don't believe a single stitch of it. The people seem too pretty; too perfect. The stories fall into place with little conflict, with almost no consequences. I can't stand it-- I see no truth there.

I told my roommate recently, "I don't need the fairy tale anymore. I just want something I can believe in. I want something I can trust."

Where I used to cherish the idea of perfection, of instant love, of happily ever after, of a prince on a white horse-- now I cherish the idea of a partner, of a best friend, of a man who will wade with me through conflict and pull me close to him as we emerge on the other side. I cherish the idea of trust growing incrementally, of laughter bubbling up after tears, of prayer occurring in the midst of stress, of a relationship that is not instant, but rather grows and strengthens and deepens over time. I love the idea of working to make something beautiful. I want deep conversations over a kitchen table, I want communication about the victories and the defeats. I want dogged solidarity and resolute team-work.

I don't want a frog that shows princely potential. I don't want a king that promises me the world.

I want a muddied up knight, who knows what it means to be in battle; who has dents in his armor, and determination on his mind. I want a man who expects a long journey, and knows there will be beauty, and knows there will be trials, and knows there will be deep, passionate, truthful love.

And I want freedom in my spirit.


And I want vulnerability to be safe.


Maybe I want the fairy tale after all...

I just want one I can believe in.