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I wrote a poem last night named Dive Bar Bomb
As the confidence of eyeliner, a red dress and Guinness went to my head
I didn't dance and twirl but I felt exciting
It's not about the male gaze
And I didn't talk to anyone but the company I was with
But somewhere in my psyche attractiveness is connected to validity
Eyes lingered on me long enough to feel visible and real
It's not about being the best looking, it's about sensing you are interesting to others
Perhaps it's a byproduct of growing up not when girls aspired to be strong independent women
But a damsel in distress until a prince swept her off her feet
A rare moment, fleeting really. One of these days will be the last time I ever feel that way (and from the beginning of writing to the point of ending this poem perhaps the last time I am lucky enough to care about things like this that don't really matter in the grand scheme of things)

Edit: just made myself smile with the realisation I'm an independent damsel in distress. Just staying in distress instead of getting on the horse, enjoying living in the castle and never worrying again. Someday my prince will come and I'll annoy him on a daily basis and be ungrateful until he goes again. Disney need to focus on the transition for those like me - I might recommend myself as a princess next time I've got the confidence of three pints of Guinness.

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