After flirting for the first time in ages, I found that in the wake of years of medical trauma, isolation, and a decline in my physical and mental health, it is really disheartening to play the part of a normal girl.
It made me feel like a cleverly disguised alien attempting to fit in with humans. As if the closer I got, the more likely it was that someone would see the differences. Or maybe like one of the less feisty Disney princesses, like Snow White. How did she really feel when she woke up? Cool to have a good looking guy kiss her awake, but wasn’t she poisoned? She probably had to deal with some trauma and make sense of a world around her that felt pretty unsafe and scary. It wasn’t really the best time to meet someone, no matter how charming he was.
For many people in my age group (30s) the worst case scenario is to be alone. I’ve heard a lot of, “I’m so sorry you’re alone. I’ve got my best friend” and “oh if only you could meet someone.” Many people don’t even share their happiness with me, because “I’m alone”. As if love is the only cure to my incurable illness. I get it, love is cool. I’m not against meeting someone if it happens, but after losing basic functions, facing death in its cold, smug face and having to live with my parents as an adult (arguably scarier), being alone is absolutely not my worst case scenario. My worst case scenario is losing my autonomy and independence. I’m more scared that I won’t be able to be alone, than of being alone.
I certainly don’t want to descend into the woods and live like the artists before me, but I’m sure there are some options between finding a soulmate immediately and running to the nearest nunnery.
I just ask that if someone does kiss me awake any time soon, they give me some time to adjust to what it means to be awake in this new world.