Happily ever after.....

It wasn’t a binding contract. But it was close. More than an assumption. A promise perhaps? And now that the promise is unfulfilled, is there anyone to sue? Anyone to blame? Myself perhaps in some ways for under-achieving, but that doesn’t do anything about the promise itself. That doesn’t stop generations to come from being sucked in. From living their life with the expectation that one day, they too will live happily ever after.

I can’t remember being a huge sucker for fairytales. I was more into stories of adventure. I think I bypassed the Disney Princesses (of today) and launched straight into Pippi Longstocking and Enid Blyton’s world of naughty girls, and of famous and secret sleuths.

I did, however, imbibe in my fair share of teenage romance novels and I did become a day-dreamer. There were even a few Mills and Boon novels thrown in, devoured while staying with grandparents. Was it the effect of these, or was it the long-standing promise I wonder. Either way, I developed expectations. And hopes and dreams.

The promise remains. We live our lives by it. That one day, we will find love. And that it will find us. We will have a family and live happily ever after. Even in today’s more temperate society it is expected. Gay couples – though not able to walk down the proverbial aisle – can have children and it is more and more usual to see blended families and those of various shapes and sizes in our communities.

What then of we singles? Generally through no choice of our own. There are times when we are discriminated against. Paying more for ‘one’ of things; not reaping some of the tax deductions which we have contributed to; assumptions made of our selfishness – having disregarded love and family to live frivolous and indulgent lives!

But the most painful thing for me is the broken promise. And even more so (I must admit), others perpetuating that promise in front of me. Sometimes it is akin to flaunting accidental pregnancies in front of someone who is infertile; basking in the glow of new love when a friend has had their heart broken; or cooking up a storm in front of a dieter. A slap in the face. Not on purpose, but a strike nonetheless.

Recent occasions stick in my mind. At Christmas my niece was talking about an old toy that she should give away, having grown ‘out’ of it. Her mother said that she needed to keep it so she could give it to her daughter. A dear friend recently wrote that she dreams of her son’s future wife.

Small things. Throwaway comments. These aren’t things said or done with any malice. They are said based on the assumption. That promise again.

I cried (in private) after the former incident. Similar things would have been said to me when I was young. It was always assumed that I too would have a child. Several probably. I definitely thought it would happen. But it hasn’t. For many reasons – some I am conscious of, and others I am not.

As a child, when I imagined my life, I was married to some wonderful man and I had a family. I didn’t think too much about my career. About divorce or infidelity. That wasn’t part of the fairytale. The fairytale ended where they walked off into the sunset.

Nevertheless – even with our changing society, our more flexible definition of families - we still aspire to the fairytale. We still assume the ultimate prize is to grow up (healthy and happy) to be in love (and loved) and to make a family.

It is important to have hopes and dreams for a future; something to look forward to. Would I have even wanted to grow up, had I known that ‘this’ existence would be my life? I am not sure. Perhaps I needed the fairytale, perhaps we all do. But maybe it shouldn’t be a promise; or an assumption. Perhaps the stories we tell our children shouldn’t hint at a utopia. Perhaps we should ensure they know that reality isn’t always as perfect as the fairytale. Whether the reality is influenced by fate, luck, or our own behaviour requires further exploration.

But in the interim, be careful of how you sell the promise; how you perpetuate the fairytale. It doesn’t always happen. And, if you have always believed the promise, the realization can be devastating.