When I was little I loved stories. I was lucky enough to have a mum that read to me every night and those moments tucked up in bed with a night light and a story were where my love of books began.
Unsurprisingly as a little girl I heard a lot of stories about princesses. Rapunzel being saved from her tower in a daring rescue, Sleeping Beauty and Snow White being awoken from their eternal sleep with a kiss, Cinderella being whisked away from her life of poverty after a dance and all by a handsome prince.
After a while I began to realise that all of these stories were strangely similar; every princess was beautiful, every princess was kind, every princess was brave and yet every princess was wandering around waiting to be saved by her handsome prince. It’s hard to hear so many of these stories and not become bored. I didn’t want to hear about princesses waiting for their ‘one true love’, I didn’t want to be a princess that waited around for her prince. I wanted to be a princess that got to do all the stuff the princes did.
So I started making my own stories. I imagined a princess who didn’t care about romance, who wanted her own adventures….She dreamed of swords and lost trolls looking for a place in the world. She dreamed of elderly rogues and crumbling towers with mystery locked inside. She was the kind of princess I wanted to be. She was smart, brave, beautiful and independent. She was the kind of princess that got trapped in an evil witches dungeon and found a way to break free. She was the kind of princess that was told she could never be a real adventurer. She was the kind of princess I wanted to be. I guess, I never really let her go.
I couldn’t understand why other stories were like this and I still can’t. All I’ve ever wanted is to read about a little girl that’s more then just a princess. Because not every little girl wants to be saved. Because some girls want to chase down evil witches and climb crumbling towers. . .