When I was a little girl,

I thought I was going to marry a prince.

I was going to live in a giant castle

In an enchanted forest

And have six little, lovely princesses with long, luscious hair

That I would brush every night before I tucked them into bed,

And life would be a fairy tale.

Then I grew up a little,

And I thought I was going to marry my middle school crush.

I was going to live in a cute, little house

In your stereotypical suburban neighborhood

And have a three-car garage and a couple of kids,

Whom I would get to stay home with like a standard soccer mom,

And life would be a fairy tale.

Then I grew up a little more,

And I thought I was never going to get married.

I was going to write the next great American novel

And spend the rest of my days traveling the world

And visiting old, dusty bookshops

And sipping hot tea in cozy cafes,

And life would be a fairy tale.

Then I actually grew up.

And I didn’t know what to think.

And I didn’t know what I was going to do.

But I did know one thing:

Whatever I chose to do with my future,

However I decided to live out my life,

It would be a fairy tale.