Sometimes it is better to not know the details, because when I don’t know the details he can be any one. He can even be my prince. But when I find out the details he always seems to turn into a frog.
Excerpt from Her Waiting List)
In Her Waiting List Anna goes on to talk about how first impression princes rarely stay as princes. A combination of time and circumstances reveals their flaws and the flaws are unable to be overlooked. We will often kick the prince-come-frog away or squash it, metaphorically speaking. But what about frogs, that person you meet who you instantly think, “Nope, not the one. Have you seen their terrible haircut and dress sense?” But like a first impression prince, a frog will not often be what he seems… Maybe like a prince you need to kiss the frog for him to reveal his true self.
The other day I found myself thinking about this whole thing of frogs and princes. I began to think back on guys I have cared about and what I wrote about frogs and princes in Her Waiting List. Looking back there were guys who I thought were princes but then I did life with them for a while which revealed they were actually frogs. For one guy it was that he cheated on me, for another it was that he was very disrespectful. Then there were the guys who are like princes because I never got to know enough about them for them to be knocked off the pedestal I had placed them on. Like the German guy called Ben who I randomly met twice in the space of a month three years ago then invited to come over to my flat for a shower and dinner one evening the following week. It all sounds very suggestive and or dangerous, but it wasn’t! My flatmates can vouch for that. Anyway, we spent the evening chatting and I found myself captivated by Ben and his accent and not to mention huge biceps. He moved to Australia shortly after. That night was the last time I saw him. And for some reason to this day I occasionally find myself wondering about him, wondering what he’s doing, if he’s married, if he started going back to church and if he remembers me. I put him on a pedestal and I think he will always remain on that pedestal, rightly or wrongly, because I will never meet him again to find out more about him.
It’s the things we find out about people that knock them off the prince-like pedestals
that we put them on or that confirm their frog-like status.
In my reminiscing of Ben I began to wonder is it worse to hold someone in your heart as an imaginary prince, when in reality once you knew more about them they would actually be a total frog, or to hold someone in your heart as a real frog, who you got to know well enough for them to reveal their
true nature which hurt you.
I think the mystery of not knowing the details that define if someone is a frog or a prince is incredibly romantic but also ignorant. I wonder if ignorance is always bliss…
Excerpt from Her Waiting List)
In Her Waiting List Anna goes on to talk about how first impression princes rarely stay as princes. A combination of time and circumstances reveals their flaws and the flaws are unable to be overlooked. We will often kick the prince-come-frog away or squash it, metaphorically speaking. But what about frogs, that person you meet who you instantly think, “Nope, not the one. Have you seen their terrible haircut and dress sense?” But like a first impression prince, a frog will not often be what he seems… Maybe like a prince you need to kiss the frog for him to reveal his true self.
The other day I found myself thinking about this whole thing of frogs and princes. I began to think back on guys I have cared about and what I wrote about frogs and princes in Her Waiting List. Looking back there were guys who I thought were princes but then I did life with them for a while which revealed they were actually frogs. For one guy it was that he cheated on me, for another it was that he was very disrespectful. Then there were the guys who are like princes because I never got to know enough about them for them to be knocked off the pedestal I had placed them on. Like the German guy called Ben who I randomly met twice in the space of a month three years ago then invited to come over to my flat for a shower and dinner one evening the following week. It all sounds very suggestive and or dangerous, but it wasn’t! My flatmates can vouch for that. Anyway, we spent the evening chatting and I found myself captivated by Ben and his accent and not to mention huge biceps. He moved to Australia shortly after. That night was the last time I saw him. And for some reason to this day I occasionally find myself wondering about him, wondering what he’s doing, if he’s married, if he started going back to church and if he remembers me. I put him on a pedestal and I think he will always remain on that pedestal, rightly or wrongly, because I will never meet him again to find out more about him.
It’s the things we find out about people that knock them off the prince-like pedestals
that we put them on or that confirm their frog-like status.
In my reminiscing of Ben I began to wonder is it worse to hold someone in your heart as an imaginary prince, when in reality once you knew more about them they would actually be a total frog, or to hold someone in your heart as a real frog, who you got to know well enough for them to reveal their
true nature which hurt you.
I think the mystery of not knowing the details that define if someone is a frog or a prince is incredibly romantic but also ignorant. I wonder if ignorance is always bliss…