Margot
So your boyfriend dumped you. You might even hate your job. You probably spend your days yearning for things you’ll never be able to afford. Have those extra summer pounds teamed up with the ones from Christmas? Don’t worry. And don’t worry if you don’t fill out your bra. Or if the chairs at restaurants squeeze your thighs. If your mother never approves of anything you do…and anything you don’t do, of course. If you gave your heart to that idiot. If you feel like you’re married to your mortgage. If your boss is a fucking psychopath. If you suspect you’ve been cheated on, that you’re going to get fired, that you’ve put your foot in it.
It doesn’t matter! Seriously. I promise you, it doesn’t matter. And one more thing: if you get frustrated or even bitter watching TV or looking at magazines or social media and seeing how wonderful and easy other people’s lives are, I’ll tell you a secret: they’re not. The thing is, everything is always more complicated when you see it up close. For example, I had everything, and I lost it all just by putting on sneakers and going for a run… I didn’t have everything, and I didn’t lose it. Pay attention. I’m telling you this from the bottom of my heart. Nothing is that serious, and your life isn’t going to end. Just…new possibilities will open up.
Look, let me tell you a perfect story, okay? One that will seem perfect too, in the beginning. Once upon a time, there was a modern princess. She didn’t have a castle or sit sighing on a balcony where she could look out over her entire kingdom. She didn’t comb her ridiculously long locks with a brush made from enamel, gold, and horsehair. She wasn’t waiting for Prince Charming to save her from the wicked witch.
Although…I’m pretty sure my mother counts as a witch.
What I mean is, somehow, those princess stories still clutter up the corners of our minds. Sometimes they’re microscopic, and other times they loom large. There are no more princes on horseback or little birds helping us get dressed for a date that will lead to love and happiness (I mean, really…sometimes it’s hard to believe they made us think some nerd was capable of sweeping us off our feet), but we still believe in stories. In fairy tales. And they’ve convinced us we want to be princesses.
Take a look at Instagram. You don’t have it? Well, don’t download it just to see if this is true. But…I’m sure you’ll know what I’m talking about. Perfect lives. Lives of luxury. Photos where you can almost touch that hazy fantasy of a dream existence. Shiny, glittering, every hair in place. Yes, most of the time, social media is trying to sell us unrealistic perfection that pushes us to find something that doesn’t actually exist. Now little girls want to be version 3.0 of the princess in the story, with a designer bag, clutching a mysteriously pink coffee on the edge of an infinity pool in Tahiti. It doesn’t sound bad, it’s true. I want it too…but the difference is knowing that there’s no perfect life behind that photo. Just…a life.
I say that from personal experience. No, I’m not an influencer or a YouTuber or a model, but, in a way, I’ve been observed, examined, judged. How? Well, I lived (was trapped, more like) in a fairy tale, the old-fashioned kind that isn’t always as shiny as it looks. I was born into an upper-class family. I was born with a string of aristocratic names and a hotel empire attached to them. When I was born, members of the royal family even went to my baptism. I was born condemned to be a princess in a story I didn’t believe, but nobody ever thought to ask what I, Margot, believed in.
I know I had a million privileges at my fingertips that other people don’t have, but…just let me tell this story my way.
Once upon a time, there was a woman who had everything and a boy who had nothing.
Once upon a time, there was a love story trapped somewhere between success and hesitation.
Once upon a time, there was a perfect story.
And only you can decide how it ends.