I am reminded of a little girl who sat with all her toys scattered across the floor, with a canopy of some dupatta of her mom’s, the stage all set for her favorite Barbie to be wed to the perfect match… ready for the “Happily Ever After”.
It was always a perfect match there was never a doubt, now after more than a decade the little girl laughs out at the thought, the idea of a perfect match, the idea of a person who completes you, the idea of having a rom-com perfect life. It seems all too childish to this grown up now and the Barbie has been long forgotten.
Yes the heart sometimes wanders and the crooked sleepless brain sometimes wonders and the hope rekindles but believe you me its just momentary the girl has learnt better, the perfect endings are scripted fiction and the chance encounters with your soulmate is stuff of imagination. Meeting Mr. Darcy only happens in the world of Austen.
So even when the girl knows all this how is it that the world around seems to be obsessed about finding the “one”… more than half the articles on the internet, more than half the stories in the glossy pages of magazines you love (along side your favorite shoes that too!). Is it that the editors have got their priorities wrong or is it easier to prey on the stupid dreamers we are?
We shriek aloud about loving ourselves, about finding ourselves, but how true is our quest? Is not trying to find the proverbial one, the one that was promised really that bad? Does it seem lazy? Is it really that hopeless and sad if we find our soulmate in ourselves, that the love of our lives is the awesome us, that we walk into the perfect sunset with our favorite playlist in our heart and an Austen(irony I think but it was the only book I would carry) in our hands?
I think there is hope, hope that we will find love, not outside but inside us, we are the most beautiful creation and we are complete in ourselves, if someone really awesome comes knocking we will let you in but mind you we are already awesome without your help!