Growing up, I read a lot of stories that started with “Once upon a time…” and ended with “… happily ever after.”
Don’t get me wrong, they were good– I’ve always been a sucker for fairy-tales– but no matter what the situation was, I always found myself sympathizing for the bad girls, the malicious women. After all, they had stories too, and something always told me their stories were probably a bit more interesting… More elaborate. More complex. I was over stupid princesses doing nothing but trying to find their princes… Sick and tired of all the pink, the size double-zero waists, and the flowers and seashells they wore in their flawless, big flowing hair.
I wanted to know more about Ursula… And the Queen of Hearts… Maleficent and her other, scalier side.
These women were powerful. They didn’t use their bodies, their money or their status to get them what they wanted in life. They suffered, they plotted, and they used their minds as their greatest resource. Plus, their style was impeccable. And the laugh? Don’t even get me started. Sure they were evil, but to me, they were better role models than the domesticated-twits that ran around singing songs about love to their furry little friends.
My women didn’t have mice who made their clothes– didn’t have birds that cleaned the cobwebs from their ceilings. They were the cobwebs, the dust that hid in the corners. They had crows that murdered for them and eels that sparked with electricity and adrenaline. Their pets– their confidants– were cunning, clever and loyal till death. And these didn’t work for them… They worked with them.
An argument can be made that madness will always ruin you in the end. But my dear boys and girls, madness isn’t something we are born into. It’s something that’s carefully created by those around us and the situations that life puts us through. The dark, wicked women of my childhood weren’t malicious because they wanted to be… They were women who fought until they were put in a corner and left with no options, a broken heart, and a searing pain that pumped through their bodies and poisoned their minds with vengeance.
Or as I like to think, vengeance and brilliance.
I’ve always liked strong, twisted female characters who were able to conjure a good storm. I liked how they found peace in darkness and were able to rebuild a foundation after everything and everyone was taken away from them. They didn’t need love, didn’t need the perfect wedding, or a fairy godmother to bippity-boppity-boo it all together.
All they needed was their obsession… Their obsession and a plan.
So I gave up the sunshine, quit on spring and exchanged it all for nightfall and eternal winters. I quit believing in happily ever afters and diamond-studded tiaras and started humming war songs and fashioning battle gear out of bone and lace.
My women may be wicked, but they don’t depend on a man to make them happy.
They depend on no one but themselves.
And on the off-chance a “Prince Charming” tries to move in and break their heart… Well… They just rip his out instead.
There’s more to tell in the month’s ahead… And I can’t wait to explore it with you all.