Little girls believe in fairytales, in the same way that they believe in someday. Someday, she’ll meet her prince charming. Someday, she’ll be beautiful and live a perfect life. Someday, someone will come to her tower and beg for her love. Someday she’ll ride away into the sunset on a white horse. She’ll leave everything behind, because all that will matter is her happily ever after. Little girls want to be loved, like Prince Charming loved Cinderella.

I grew up with a continuous secret love for fairytales. I made my world a fairytale; I tried to be the beautiful princess. It was all the mattered to me, living my own secret life of perfection. Wishing and dreaming every night, that someday I would be as lucky as the girls in the books. I lived in a world full of fiction that eventually came to become my reality. I smiled when I saw the way my mom looked at my dad because somehow I knew that if she could get her fairytale, I could get mine. As a young girl, I knew exactly what love looked like, I knew the feeling and I knew that someday, I’d have it too. I don’t know where all my faith came from because I never a doubt in my mind. My life would be no different than books with the gold lined pages. Maybe, I wouldn’t have a white elegant dress with glass slippers, but I knew exactly what I wanted from my life, and that was a happily ever after.

Somewhere along this road, I stopped believing in fairytales. My life took a million twists and turns, and the fairytales only made me angry. The little girl, who used to believe with every part of her heart, had disappeared. I missed that girl, and I wanted to believe again. But I learned that life will be exactly what you make it. Maybe fairytales were too planned out for me, and maybe all I wanted to do, what make something out of my life, my way. No longer do I dream that someday I’ll ride away into my happily ever after, now I see myself making those same dreams happen with more than just believing.