Some Day My Prince Will Come
I recently met a small group of wonderful women: successful, spiritual, independent, beautiful souls. A couple are married with children and the others are not, but all still live in hope of meeting their perfect man. I am reminded of the popular religious parable of the man waiting for God to intervene during a flood, as he declines ‘mortal’ help and time and time again, before actually drowning. Have women become so enlightened that they are now blinded to the charms, physical pleasures and emotional teachings of mortal men?
Society, quite rightly, encourages women to break away from violent, abusive or destructive relationships, but it would appear many, potentially deserving, men don’t now even get a look in – they are not empathetic enough, not strong enough, not good-looking enough, too old, too inexperienced, too poor, too ignorant… Women seem to have either lost or abandoned their talent for nurturing men, preferring to wait for not just any old prince, but an enlightened prince among men; their very own ‘Archangel’, with perfectly balanced chakras, flawless aura and a direct link to the Divine.
In the esoteric world of all things ‘light and love,’ such creatures are depicted with flowing locks, rippling torsos rarely ageing beyond 30! Now I can appreciate that is how Archangel Michael might look – let’s face it, wielding a sword all day, cutting cords and saving souls in distress will keep him trim, but Raphael – the healer- I would expect a wise, older, bearded herbalist figure of a man, a little worse for wear perhaps and when it comes to the messenger Gabriel, well I wouldn’t expect a man for starters. This is also subtly promoted and endorsed by the legions of ‘alternative’ self-help courses and cure-alls. Singletons are praised for ‘loving’ themselves enough not to ‘settle’ for just ‘anyone’ given charts, readings and the like to map out when ‘He’ will come and what ‘He’ will look like. Yet rarely does this manifest. As for the married ladies, of whom I am one, it would appear we have exhausted all nurturing reserves and are still left wanting, the fairy tale never quite having panned out. We have the children, the home, even careers etc., but the husband has not fully evolved as we expected. And less able to jump ship, temptation and regrets start to creep in: did we settle too soon, or for the wrong reasons…is it all too late? Which is worse, to be ‘left on the shelf’ or to be ‘chained to the sink’?
Perhaps the issue is in the original storytelling. We precious little princesses or damsels in distress are told to look sweet and be pure, and our prince will come, and we will live happily ever after. But it is a story in which we (men and women) are not mythical creatures living out some candy-coated Disneyesque movie. We are wonderfully flawed, emotionally motivated, sensually driven creatures of flesh and blood. And whilst striving for enlightenment is a noble cause, it is the journey itself that is the real unfolding treasure. As we are now, a life of solitude is not what we were designed for, nor chose to experience, so our need to find love and be loved should not be taken lightly nor forgotten – the very reason why the concepts of ‘true-love’, ‘soul-mates’ and ‘twin-flame’ are so popular. They all sound romantic and idealistic, but often just a little out of reach, simply because you expect just one person to embody the ideal. But you know what they don’t tell you, you can love many people truly, you would never think to question which of your children is the ‘true’ child? Soul mates can come in all forms and in great numbers, and your twin flame is a rather modern concept that would have you believe you are incomplete or only half of what you could be…
Thing is, many people also change or grow as they discover life, and so will their expectations of the ‘right’ relationship. And so I ponder, are the singletons wrong to wait or are the married folk reckless not to? I can only think that each person must do what feels right for them in that moment, but know that this life is indeed short, and sometimes it is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. As it happens, is it so strange to take the view that perhaps my ‘prince’ is not one single individual but is made up of my relationships with several men, from my past, present and even in the future… So rather than sitting pretty in my ivory tower waiting for ‘Him’, I climb down the tower to speak to and love all manner of menfolk that pass by, from prince to pauper, in the belief that time spent loving each of them is indeed coming to love my ‘perfect man’ over my entire lifetime.
First published in More To Life magazine 2015
(c) Kate Osborne, Solarus Ltd
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