“No amount of something you don’t need will substitute for something you do need.” — Bernard Poduska
I wrote the following essay to explore why I felt jealous of Grace, my current protagonist. Because she has been strongly focused on developing her musical talent, adolescence was something she had little time for. However, on her adventures, she has to deal with Ichirou, who is about her age, and Greg, who is a few years older. She’s definitely starting to notice the opposite sex as I write. And I got jealous of her:
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I suspect everyone has a fairy tale of their own writing that they hug to themselves, as a spell against trauma. The existence of the fairy tale fills that hole in their heart that the terror tore out of them, the recitation of that fairy tale to themselves chains and locks the dungeon door so their demon can’t escape. Moreover, if they could live their fairy tale to the end, the demon would be slain and the hole in their heart would be healed.
The fairy tales are as varied as the people who hold them and the trauma they’ve suffered. But they include this one word, as an incantation: “If …”
If the prince would fall in love with me, it would take away the terror and pain of my adolescence. That is my fairy tale.
My adolescence resembled Stephen King’s “Carrie”, without the ability to torch my tormentors. One of the acts perpetrated against me obliterated my innocence and stunted my adolescent development. I was thirteen at the time. I had all the crushes a typical teen girl entertained, but shame at even thinking of men as men shrouded my reverie.
Hence the fairy tale — if the prince would fall in love with me, I might be normal …
But no amount of something I don’t need will substitute for something I do need. The prince will never be enough, because only in fantasy does the prince truly understand the extent of damage
I suffered, and understanding is the key to the fairy tale. The prince can only interact with me at the current moment, and I am married, no longer that adolescent who needed healing. The hole in my heart will be there, will always be there, although it doesn’t ache as much as before.
The reality of life beyond the fairy tale is that everyone has a hurt that their fairy tale will never fix.