Have you ever compared your current squeeze to the man you dreamt about as a girl? Draped in your mother’s crisp white net curtains, parading as the blushing bride and fantasising about him worshipping you wildly…
So what happened to that dream?
Did you find him? Lose him? Keep him? Have you settled below the dizzy heights you set? Or are you refusing to give in to anyone but prince charming?
My story goes a little like this… I wanted an older man, someone to take care of me and admire me in equal measure. I wanted someone to make me feel special, someone to hold me close when life got tough… A companion, a lover, a best friend… I wanted the full package…
I was short-changed!
And I have no-one to blame but me.
Eleven years ago I met him. He was tall, older and charming and I idolised him immediately. I hung upon his every (extremely sexily spoken) word. We quickly became inseparable. He was for me. Of this there was no doubt. Mr Right with a capital R. That was that!
At that time he put ticks in the boxes I wanted ticking. I forget what they were. Somewhere along the line I lost the Mr Right Mandate and ended up with something entirely different.
My blinkers remained in situ long enough for us to settle down, buy a house, marry, rescue a dog and have three children… It was about this time that Mr Right became Mr Oh So Wrong and I became Mrs Oh So Sad!
Hindsight tells me that I had held onto my girlish dream so tightly that the first guy to come along just had to be him. Isn’t that how the dream works in the fairy tales? I tirelessly squoze him into my blissful jigsaw refusing to accept that he was in fact the wrong shape. The ideology of my childish fantasy blurring my reality to unrecognisable levels.
Fast-forward eleven years to the tragic end of my ‘fairy tale,’ as a new grasp on reality takes hold. Now I meet a man who is not Mr Right, he is Mr Right Enough and I love him – as he is – for what he is. I make no attempt to squeeze him metaphorically, although occasionally I do it literally!
This guy has never been Mr Right. I do not remember willing him to tick boxes when we met, I was too busy enjoying him. I do recall wanting to drink endless cups of coffee in his effortless company and to just be. It is this Right Enough coffee that is slowly eradicating the bitter taste of the ‘Right’ one I endured for all those years!
And so I suppose I wonder if Mr Right really exists or if we meet Mr Wrong and squeeze his sqaureness into our round holes only to have our dreams shattered and a cynicism take hold.
Maybe Right Enough is just as it should be. Right is probably only viewable in blinkers…
At least that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.