Stories Along the Way

Originally written in 2024

I’m always a strong, independent woman, but lately I’ve been wondering — why can’t I be a Disney princess?

I mean, I’ve got the life experience, the resilience, and I certainly know how to handle a dramatic plot twist.

But then reality hits…

I could never be Cinderella because that fancy royal ball? Yeah, that thing starts way past my bedtime.

Midnight? Please.

I’m in my comfy pyjamas by 8 PM, slippers on, tea in hand, and the only thing I’m turning into at midnight is an irritable gremlin. 

Snow White? Not a chance.

Some stranger shows up at my doorstep with a suspicious-looking apple?

Nope.

I don’t even open the door for people I actually know, let alone some cloaked weirdo carrying questionable produce.

And let’s be real — I don’t take food from strangers unless it arrives in Uber Eats packaging. 

Sleeping Beauty?

Now, this one initially sounds promising.

I love sleep.

If being unconscious for an extended period was all it took to qualify as royalty, I’d be queen of the afternoon nap.

But a true love’s kiss to wake me up?

First, I’d need to be an actual beauty.

And second, if anyone wakes me before I’m ready, they’d better be prepared for a death glare that could turn them to stone.

So fine.

I suppose I’ll just stick to being a strong, independent woman.

No crown. No castle.

But I get my eight hours of sleep, my snacks are poison-free, and nobody expects me to dance in uncomfortable shoes.

Sounds like a win to me.