Fairy Tale in White

Fairy Tale in White

I’m sitting in my pristine white dress, heart racing, butterflies in my stomach, my big day has finally arrived. As I wait to be told that it’s time to make the walk I can’t help but look back on my life. It’s a walk I’ve dreamed of making so many times, in fact no matter how far I think back, I can’t remember dreaming of anything else.

Brought up by a single Mum as an only child, psychologist might say that goes a long way to explain my dream and the single-minded focus on it. I’m sure there was a time when it wasn’t just me, the other girls at primary school wanted the fairy tale too. We would watch Disney films at each other’s house and love the happy endings. Maybe I just never grew up, but if growing up meant ditching this dream then I’m happy I’m still a kid. As we got older they got further and further away from the dream, in fact they all seemed to completely give up on it sooner or later.

Being the only one that kept believing the Fairy tale of course made me the odd one out and that’s not a great place to be in high school. I’m not sure of exactly what the definition of bullying is, but I certainly felt bullied. Laughed at for daring to dream and wanting the best for myself. Even teachers felt the need to say things to dampen my enthusiasm.

‘Don’t expect perfection, that’ll only lead to disappointment.’

‘There’s a reason they aim those Disney films at kids, adults know life is not all about happy endings.’

When we got to college all everyone wanted to do was party and get drunk. That wasn’t in keeping with my dream, I wanted to be the best possible version of me so that if I did get close to the Fairy Tale I would give myself the best chance of achieving it and probably even more importantly I would feel I deserved it, because feeling like I didn’t deserve it could cause all sorts of problems.

My class mates from college, it’s hard to hand on heart call them friends, would start going out every weekend, even before they were old enough to be drinking legally. They would go to extreme lengths to get some fake ID, almost like something out of a spy film. Seemingly without taking a moment to think about why it was illegal. Most of them would say they wanted to get married, but they didn’t seem to mind going through a few guys before getting there. Most of them will probably end up getting married, in fact a couple of them already have. But I can’t help thinking they’ll all end up with someone who they just happened to be with at the time in life when they both feel like they “should” get married. That is life dictating what you end up doing, that’s what I wanted to avoid, I wanted to choose my own path not just end up on one.

They would share their world on social media, so many pictures, always smiling, lots of hugs as if they were all the closest friends, but plenty of them would hardly say two words to each other when they were sober. I admit there were many times during my early nights when I was safely tucked up in bed and I would be scrolling on my phone looking through their latest exploits and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t tempted to join them the next time they went out, they made it look so much fun. Also I wouldn’t be human if I didn’t want that sense of belonging, a feeling of wanting to be part of the crowd, at times when my dream seemed so far away I was tempted to forget it all and join the masses. Now I’m sat in the whitest of white and knowing I fully deserve to be here, I’m so glad I never did that. Of course it could have happened without me wearing white, but for it to be truly perfect it had to be in pure white.

Even my Mum never comprehended my dream, she often told me that a woman shouldn’t be limited to that one dream and that I should focus on other things that I could do. She kept waiting for me to grow out of it, to give up on the miracle that I was hoping for. We would even have rows about it as I got older.

‘You’re letting that be the only thing that defines you, your only identity,’ she would say or sometimes scream.

‘It’s the only identity I want,’ I would scream back, often literally pulling my hair out.

She was a great Mum and did always want the best for me and for me not to get hurt, she just never truly understood me.

‘I just don’t want you to get hurt when it doesn’t work out for you,’ I think the way things had worked out in her life made it incredibly difficult for her to believe in the happy ending.

‘If you don’t believe in miracles, why do you buy a lottery ticket?’ That was one of my favourite lines, I was proud of that one.

Even now she can’t quite bring herself to be completely happy for me, I think she’s just scared that my dream could still be shattered and that I won’t be able to cope. When I first showed her the dress this is what she said.

‘If you’re going to wear something that tight in front of so many people, you better make sure you fit into it properly.’

Even though I’ve been hospitalised twice because of exhaustion I still don’t think she has any clue just how much I exercise.

Like a lot of people my Mum would focus on what would happen if my dream didn’t come true.

‘What if it never happens?’

‘Then I’ll be miserable like everyone else, I’ll either embrace that misery or I will do what most people do and pretend to be happy with what I’ve got. Either way I’ll be in the same situation as if I give up now, so I may as well go for it.’

Sat here now in my mid-twenties on the brink of all I’ve ever dreamed of, of course it could all still go wrong, it could all blow up in my face but at least I’ll know I’ve been true to myself and that I’ve done all I can to get my happy ending. I’m not going to pretend it’s been an easy path to get here, so many moments of self-doubt wondering if everyone else was right and I was wrong to believe that I could have all I ever wanted. It takes an incredible amount of will power and mental strength to be in the minority of one with an opinion but to never change your mind. Whitesnake said it best when they said, “Cos I know what it means to walk along the lonely street of dreams.” It has been such as lonely quest, that loneliness has led to bouts of depression and self-harm, but even in my darkest days when everything else in my life seemed to be a negative there was always a light from my dream, sometimes it was a bright, blinding light other times it was a barely noticeable flicker of fading light, but it was always there to make sure I was never completely engulfed by the dark. I didn’t want it to be easy, I wanted it to be worth it.

People would constantly be warning me about putting all my eggs in one basket and pinning all my hopes of happiness on this one thing. I was fully aware that if life was a Casino then I was going all in on this one bet, but I believed that life was about pursuing true happiness and for me this was the only thing that was ever going to achieve that. Even a life spent in an ultimately vain pursuit would be better than a life of settling for anything other than what your heart truly wants.

I’m feeling like a kid again as I look back, remembering all those times in college when people would be asking each other whether they had a good weekend, when of course what they were really asking was how drunk they got, did they go to any good parties and did they get up to anything exciting? I would never be able to answer that question in the same way, I was far too boring. Right now I was on the brink of the perfect weekend, finished off by that one dance that I’ve always wanted to dance. I start to smile as I think about all those people that have doubted me over the years, some of them never actually said they did to my face, but a lot of them did. One rant towards the end of college by one girl jumps into my head.

‘When are you ever going to wake up and stop dreaming, that is never going to happen,’ not only did she say that to me in front of several people she clearly enjoyed saying it, like trying to crush someone else’s dream somehow made her own uninspiring life better. Now I was focussing on ramming those words down her throat faster than her latest jaeger bomb.

My daydreaming and reminiscing were interrupted when I heard the word “time”. Indeed it was time, time to stop dreaming and start doing, all I’d ever dreamed of was in touching distance and it was up to me to make it happen.

I got up out of my chair, threw my towel over my shoulder and set off on that walk, accompanied by the most inspiring roar imaginable from the crowd. Time for deep breaths and composure as I serve for the Wimbledon title, now would be a beautiful time for four aces.