Once upon a time there was a young girl who believed in fairy tales.  She was raised to believe that a dashing prince would ride into her life and sweep her off of her feet.  He would adore everything about her and her every wish was his command.  She believed what the others had told her that she would only be happy when she had found this man, married and raised her children in the little country house with the white picket fence.  Well, Beaver’s mom June Cleaver had it so what is wrong with us when we fail to achieve our storybook dream?  A mind is a fragile thing and easily manipulated. 

Ahh the young girl believes her dream and the day arrives when her prince does arrive.  The odd thing is her prince has other ideas but of course he fails to tell her and goes along begrudgingly acting his assigned role.  They walk in step along fairytale lane.  The young girl gifted with her strong intuition realizes it ain’t the life of June Cleaver and wonders why her prince drags his feet and sours his face as she talks about  future of their story.  Has the fairy tale been a lie?  Nah it can’t be she tells herself.  The world would not have lied.  Her mother would not have lied.  All the others would not have lied.  Her prince just needed more time to come to his senses.  It never dawned on her that her prince never shared her dream.  He had his own dream and it did not include her.

Society has a vested interest in keeping the fairytale alive.  The disruption comes when our soul realizes the story is a lie.  When the happiness does not materialize as we are told we wonder if the problem lies within us.  If everybody else can live in the story, why can’t we?  Why is it me who always has to be different?  We actually believe there is something wrong with us and society wants us to believe it.  The fairytale wants us all to believe.  If we find ourselves on a different path or find ourselves following the soul instead of the story, we are often labeled as inconsistent, irresponsible, ungrateful, immature, and a host of other perjorative terms.  The prince cannot understand why we all of a sudden changed our course and cannot understand our “selfish” ways especially after all he has done for us.  One day we wake up and realize the prince never wanted to marry us.  He never held the same dream.  He never wanted the house with the white picket fence or the 2.5 children.  It was all the fairytale we held for ourselves as well as what the others said we needed.  If we are lucky our soul guides us to the place that is right for us and the fairytale remains what it always was, a delusional dream.