Recently an article titled, “Romantic comedies may be ruining your love life,” caught my attention and in the middle of a crowded café, I laughed uproariously at something I and everyone woman in the free world already knew; but I guess some people are just catching on.
True, they had scientific evidence to back their claims however most women know their idea of romance is ruined after the first romantic movie or book.
Cinderella ruined me and I have spent the better part of 25 years trying to wrap my brain around the fact that the handsome prince really doesn’t exist (an audible gasp from the male audience and instant denial… “they are different”). I am not saying that romance doesn’t exist and that there are exceptions…but the majority of men wouldn’t know chivalry if it bit them in their noble steed’s ass.
Young girls are jaded the first time they see the handsome prince ready to battle evil, sing in perfect harmony and present rippling muscles as they sweep the beautiful smiling princess of her feet. This image will last and become more finely honed, a cartoon prince gives way to the gorgeous actor of the latest epic movie drama and interspersed is perhaps your literary fictional character.
People always seem “amazed” at how large the romantic book industry is, of course if I had a dollar for every woman I’ve seen sneaking through that section in Borders, dodging around the “Top Sellers” table and stealthily picking out their new guilty pleasure; then pretending to be fascinated with anything but the shelves full of pulsating pectorals and heaving bosoms when someone comes around the corner, I would be a millionaire. I can honestly admit that I have done this, going so far as to pretend I dropped my contact so an old classmate wouldn’t suspect that I was enthralled by a book entitled, “Her Sinful Pirate”.
Even those who “hate’ chick flicks will always let out a little sigh at the climactic scene where our hero grabs the girl and passionately kisses her breath away; it can’t be helped, its natural like breathing.
The only problem with romantic books and movies is the unrealistic expectations that they set. As much as I would love to believe that my perfect match will come out of nowhere to rescue me from whatever trouble I have gotten myself into-it just doesn’t happen. Most of the time you will be rescued by a very nice, somewhat portly married policeman or you end up just dealing with it yourself.
And don’t expect when you’re moving into your new apartment carrying the overly packed boxes up three flights of stairs that a handsome man will appear to grab the box and you from falling back down said stairs. Totally forget any supernatural men either (yes I am speaking to you Twilight fans), as much as I want to give you hope that a impossibly attractive hundred year old gentleman will save you from a sliding van-it’s not happening.
I am as guilty as the next for wanting these men to exist and expecting to see them in the guy who’s trying to ask me out; setting myself for a rather large fail when he never seems to come through. It is also probably why I have stayed single for all this time, I am looking for the hero and won’t settle, so I guess it will be a long wait. Until then I have movies and books to reinforce my bad behavior. After all fantasy is much better than reality.
