There's something wrong with the fairy stories we've been told when we were children.
We, romatic girls, grew up with this stupid idea that someday THE Prince Charming will come to save us, whoever he is.
Then, there's this belief that some kind of inner clock starts to tick time out on about the age of 30.
So, here that you see all those women running after men with the urge of getting a ring on their fingers and starting a family.
At 30.
When I turned 30 my father "suggested" me to put my head on my shoulders. I looked at my life, the boyfriend I was with and not only I broke the relationship few months later, but I deleted also the word "marriage" from my dictionary.
Too young to get caught in a lifetime relationship, too child myself to grow one up, still too much will of having fun.
People today have children even when over 40, science and medicine are no longer what they were 50 years ago (and over) so no hurry at all. Plus, life is longer than before. We've plenty of time.
Back to the fables that brainwashed us, the plot is always the same: there's this young girl in need, she finds her Prince, everybody's happy. The END.
Probably someone needs to think what that "END" means.
Even in case of just one child you've already fucked the next 16 years of your life: no pubs, no drinking, no clubs, no nights out with friends, no trips around the world, END of fun.
Enjoy your life till you're young, Lil Lady, your body is not going wasted itself.
No comments:
Post a Comment