Every girl dreams of her Prince Charming. The handsome, dashing man who will sweep her off her
glass slipper-shod feet, wake her with a kiss, or become a new man to earn her love. We grow up
hearing these and other romantic fairy tales, dreaming of true love's first kiss as we snuggle
deeper into our princess bedsheets, secure in the knowledge that, 'someday our prince will
come.' Of course there is nothing wrong with this. Eventually we grow up, we learn the
difference between the true love of imagination and the true love of real life. We experience the
awkward first boyfriend, the one you might have held hands with once. He may even have spoken to
you in the hallway at middle-school. A week later you ran home crying because he found someone new.
Your true love, the one you were going to marry! How could this happen? And that was the first
time it happened, though you didn't know it at the time. You lost just a little of your faith in
the fairy tale you always knew your life was going to become. 12-year-olds heal quickly, however,
and a month later you have a new man, a better pre-puberty prince. THIS one is your destiny. The
first was a momentary distraction. Until that relationship ends in shambles as well. And the next.
And the next. Each time another chip appears in that once perfect happily-ever-after image. Then
one morning you wake up, wondering what had happened. You remember the life you dreamed of, and the
baby on the way and the bruises on your arms were never written into that script. THAT story was
one for future generations; you always knew you would run into a gorgeous boy who would immediately
be smitten with you. Perhaps after he saw you riding your brilliant white steed across the smooth
sandy beach, your long blond hair trailing behind you. It would have been love at first sight, of
course. And, what a coincidence, he was the long-lost son of the King of Mauritania, tragically
lost at sea and leaving no heir. You and your true love would rule the country in peace and
harmony, just like all the other lucky girls whose stories delude us as we grow up. And instead you
are here. Seventeen and living with the father of your child in a mobile home he shares with his
drug-dealing best friend. The bruises on your arms, they don't mean anything. He was drunk. He would never consciously hurt you. You know he loves you. That's what he
tells you anyway. He loves the baby, too. Just as much as you do. Besides, what could you do even
if you did leave him? You can't go back to your family, they probably wouldn't even take you if you
did go. You've screwed up too badly. You know that. Pregnant and alone you are out of options. You think back on those carefree, happy days. When your biggest worry was whether or not your favorite skirt was clean for the school dance
that weekend. How did this happen? Where did you go wrong? So much for happily-ever-after. This
princess chose the wrong prince and real life is not a fairy tale. Too late to go back now. Life
goes on.