the rain
As
a young girl and a teenager I had a very romantic view of the world. Partly
caused I’m sure by the copious amount of Disney movies and musicals I gobbled
up at home. In high school I imagined my future romances with all the lovely
trappings of the romances and romantic comedies I filled my brain up with. The
strongest image and dream for me was to have my first kiss in the rain. You
know one of those Darcy declaring his love moments but with an earlier happy
ending and mutual profession of love. In fact I intimated this fantasy to the first
boy I dated. And we waited and waited for that sublime moment to seal our
mutual affection with a dramatic magical kiss. Every time it rained we would
both text each other “it’s raining” but he never got to me in time.
Today
I instituted change in my life. I cut all my hair off and ran my hands through
my Mia Farrow pixie and felt strong. I dressed for class in a big sweater and combat
boots and left sans umbrella. After teaching my students and enjoying our
lesson I looked outside at the torrential downpour, which had begun. I walked with
a student talking for a while, then finally was able to walk alone blasting my
music in my ears. The rain poured and I took off my sweater to further protect
my backpack from water damage. The drops rolled down my face, in my eyes, to my
chest. I did not have a moment where I danced or met my true love. I didn’t
kiss any sweet but shy boy who was perfect for me. I walked alone my head held
high and my shoulders back. I enjoyed nature’s baptism. I felt washed anew.
Reborn. Strong. Free. My life is not what that little girl or teenager expected
or hoped for. But not all fairy tales have princes and not all need them.
Sometimes a happy ending is a girl standing tall as she walks through the rain.
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