Knight in Shining Armor?

It starts at an early age, the princess in the castle waiting for her knight in shining armor to rescue her, we hear it in stories, we see it in Disney movies, and we are fed a steady diet of it. We then grow up and it is still there, most of the time sub-consciously, we want that knight, that prince, someone to rescue us. Whether it is from our over-bearing parents, loneliness, bills, taking care of the household chores, we just want to be rescued.
Eventually we will find him, we will see him for what we want him to be, later on, after reality has settled in we begin to see the armor as tarnished, hung up or slung in a corner of the bedroom. Then we notice the underwear on the floor, the toothpaste squeezed from the middle, or whatever else habits we had chosen to overlook until this moment.
Here is the problem, we continue to look toward fantasy, if we, as women, as mothers of daughters want that to change we need to teach our daughters about real Queens and Princesses. We need to teach them about Queen Elizabeth I, who ruled a country without a husband, she never married, never fell into the knight trap, or her mother, Anne Boleyn, she convinced a King to change the religion of a country, true she lost her head in the process, but her influences can still be felt in England today.
The idea of waiting for someone to rescue us might seem antiquated, however, we still do it, we still look at the men who rescue, the fireman, the policemen, the military, the uniform may have changed the concept is still the same, it is the armor. The rescuer that we seek, when will we begin rescuing ourselves?
We have made remarkable progress toward this end, we are now the ones in uniform, and Disney movies are showing princesses rescuing not only themselves but working with the prince to rescue each other. I believe the desire to find a rescuer is inherent, perhaps even survivalistic, a holdover from caveman days, it is hard to fight against something that is so ingrained, so a part of our psyche that even after generations of women fighting for equality, we still want it.
I admit, I want it, and I am about the most independent woman there is, I named my daughter after both Elizabeth the I and her mother Anne Boleyn, however, I still want someone to take care of me. Not financially at this point, but when I am sick or when I have had a rough day, or just to take over making sure the bills are paid on time. It is exhausting doing it all by yourself. Perhaps it is not a rescuer I crave but a helpmate, perhaps that is what the instinct is evolving into, looking for a helpmate, someone not to rescue but to work with toward common goals. My parents were a prime example of that, they always worked in synch and in harmony with each other to achieve their goals and to even make sure the household ran smoothly. That is what I want, what they had.

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