I blame fairy tales. They tell all of us little girls about being princesses. They set a standard that is completely unattainable.
I like to think I’m a good person. I help others whenever I’m able. I return my cart at the grocery store to its perspective spot. (This is actually a pet peeve of mine. I have yelled at people before who leave their cart by their car when the cart return is two spaces down.) I politely explain to telemarketers I’m not interested. But I am sure not any princess.
Nope, forest animals do not flock to me. Two boxers do, and five fish, and two parakeets, but that’s only because they know I have their food. I’m a superhero to my two boys, but soon my oldest will hit those awesome teenage years and I’ll become a lame embarrassment. Still no princess.
When I write my characters are far from princesses. They are realistic, modern women. Sometimes, they might even kickass. But princesses? Nope. These poor kids have enough to deal with growing up to have me lead them down the path of false idealization. There’s no prince charming. There’s no castle. There is the benefit of hard work, education, and being ethical. 🙂