How might we have been different, my sisters, if this had been our fairy tale?

Dear Reader: I am in the midst of having to open, sort, repack and relist more than 208 boxes going to Ecuador. I have zero real time to do a long piece. This one was inspired by the movie playing in the background yesterday. Short, but I hope inspiring.

Those of you who, like I did, grew up with insipid fairy tales about princes on white horses and sleeping in the forest waiting for My Prince might appreciate this.

As well, those of you with girl children might consider getting a certain movie into the repertoire for your kids.

As I slog up and downstairs with box after box, snorting snot from my flu and tripping on the stairs with my surgical boot, I have Netflix movies on in the background.

In this case the movie is Damsel, a lovely reworking of an old lie: the chivalrous prince who saves the pretty girl in distress.

The opening lines say it all:

“There are many stories of chivalry, where the heroic knight saves the damsel in distress. This is not one of them.”

If you haven’t seen it, I recommend it. It scores high for viewers, Rotten Tomatoes and critics not so much. The cast has lots of big names, it’s great fun. Robin Wright, once the consummate princess herself, this time gets to play the bitch queen, which is delightful.

But that’s not why I recommend it.

In THIS fairy story, a pretty girl gets sent to marry a prince who turns out to be one evil POS (it runs in the family), and is sacrificed, along with countless other pretty young things, to a very pissed off mother dragon whose children were murdered by, of course, an asshole king.

So generations end up giving their girls for sacrifice for the wealthy to stay, well, wealthy.

Only this pretty girl, having grown up without money or privileges, is one tough bitch.

Elodie gets cut, burned, bruised, and battered. Basically gets the holy crap beaten out of her. She loses none of her vulnerability. But baby, watch what happens next.

If you’ve not seen it, consider.

In light of Epstein, watch it.

In light of the Republicans’ push to shove us back into ignorant servitude, watch it.

This is the kind of movie that scares the holy crap out of the go-back-to-the-kitchen-ignorant-barefoot-pregnant crowd.

In light of all the current attempts to tamp down personal power, dignity, real honor, sacrifice and female intensity, watch this movie. It isn’t just fun. There are layers and layers of social commentary worthy of digging into, so see it several times.

With your children. Because this movie changes the narrative for little girls.

All of us are told to be pretty, slim, perfect, humble ( go fuck yourself) and all the rest, and you’ll….

GET A PRINCE.

Only too often the prince turns out to be….in business with Jeffrey Epstein, or someone just like him. An abuser. Whatever.

I’ve been there. You may have, too.

That said…I had a hard time with fairy tales because I was too competitive. And the so-called princes I found were all-too-often, well. See above.

There ARE princes out there. You know who you are and you are priceless. You love your intensely strong ladies for who they are, not as a wild animal to be trapped, beaten into submission and caged. A trophy.

This is the kind of movie a good father shows his baby girl. His princess. Whom he is sending not just to ballet class, but to karate. Not just to gymnastics, but to self-defense.

You get it. A good man knows the world his daughter has to navigate and he knows his kind. Prepares her to deal with them. Mine didn’t. Most of us find out on our own.

You and I, no matter how old, are still princesses. We deserve a better narrative. This movie might be a little silly.

For my fairy tale dollar, despite having been weaned on Disney and worked at Disney World, I’ll take a bruised, bloody, scarred, pissed off, powerful princess any day.

Movies matter in how we see ourselves. Watch this one and see what you think. See what your kids think and watch their reactions.

I found my inner Elodie later in life. I am in fact the Chinese Water Dragon, by zodiac sign. The ending of this movie has special meaning for me. Maybe you, too. I found my inner dragon shortly after I turned sixty.

That’s why I call them the goddess years.

As we age, and grow out of the pressure to not look fat in this dress, let’s find our inner dragon. We’ve been bruised enough by false narratives. You and I can rewrite out fairy tale any time.

It starts with saving ourselves.

Let’s play…with fire.

Originally published at https://toooldforthis.substack.com.