On My Heroines

In my last post, I discussed my childish ways and how I've come to love and accept them. In this post, I want to take this a step further and explore why I'm like this.

Lately, at work, I've been the subject of a little but of playful taunting. several of my co-workers are vastly amused at my level of innocence and naivete about the world. For example, in a discussion of marijuana, I was surprised to learn that a lot of people regularly smoke it. Probably even as much as half the people in the office, and people that I'd not expect. According to one co-worker, she knows someone who works at a place where pretty much everyone does - from the CEO to the drones. Not all the time, and not at work, but at home or on the weekends.

I was completely shocked to learn this, and still don't quite believe it. And I expressed this to them in the lunchroom. In my mind, normal people don't do drugs. Drugs are for the poor people who have made bad choices in life, and for bad people who corrupt good people for money...not nice, normal people. Nice, normal people just don't do drugs, right? Aren't we all taught that as kids?

My co-workers thought this was hilarious. "Oh Leah, you're so innocent - it's adorable!"

I don't mind this mild teasing, of course. It's all in good fun, and I get a good laugh from it as well. But it makes me think about why I'm still living in this fairy-tale world that everyone else, it seems, has grown out of.

Then I thought about my favourite books growing up - many of which are still my favourites. When I was growing up, I was bullied and didn't have many friends. To make up for this, I made friends with the characters in the books I read. I admired them, and learned from them. I wanted to be like them.

I wanted to be patient and compassionate despite being alone and reviled, like Sara Crewe.

I wanted to grow and learn about the Magic on the Yorkshire Moors with Mary Lennox.

I wanted Ella of Frell's courage and spunk.

I wanted to learn how to make mistakes and accept my flaws like Anne Shirley.

I wanted to be a Queen of Narnia.

I wanted to give myself good advice, like Alice.

Even today, although I have grown up and found grown-up literary heroines, none of them have had the kind of impression on me that my childhood heroines have. And, big surprise, many of these girls are the heroines of morality stories. The stories are simple, with simple messages: be kind to all creatures, use your imagination, be good and just, trust your heart, love without restraint, be curious, be open to wonder and beauty...

My habit of re-reading these stories regularly keeps these messages in my mind. They've kept be from getting jaded and bitter. I'm frequently reminded that Magic is real, and it's okay if I seldom follow my own very good advice, and that I can always take comfort that I have a charming nose (even if I don't have raven locks and a name like Cordelia), and most importantly:

“I am a princess. All girls are. Even if they live in tiny old attics. Even if they dress in rags, even if they aren’t pretty, or smart, or young. They’re still princesses.”