A closed door

I’m in my mid-thirties now. Married, with a kid, and about to buy a overpriced house in the burbs. Aside from the occasional pangs of stress at work, I live a mostly calm, drama-free life. A much different place than I was ten years ago in my mid-twenties, when things seemed so uncertain.

I’ve been with my husband for over 7 years now – clearly the longest relationship ever. And it’s comfortable and nice, sprinkled of course with the occasional bickering, mostly over whose turn it is to change the poopy diaper. So I’m way past the age of being cynical about love and relationships. It’s too much effort and, frankly, no longer relevant.

Thanks to advent of the Disney movie, “Frozen,” and my daughter’s obsession with the song, “Let it go,” I watched the film with her. It was cute.

Oddly enough, the song that resonated with me the most was the song, “Love is Open Door.” Yes, it’s a saccharine, chirpy little Disney duet that to most adults might sound like nails on a chalkboard. But for some peculiar reason, the song played over in my mind and stirred something within me.



At first, I couldn’t identify what the feeling was. And then I realized it felt like a longing, almost like nostalgia.

Corny as it sounds, I think the hopefulness and naiveté of the female character, Anna, reminds me of me…from ten to twenty years ago. (And how apt that [spoilers] her seemingly perfect suitor turns out to be a villain.)

So if I peel back the jaded layers of my life and past lame dating experiences, I can still reach that pre-teen who had ridiculous notions of how love worked. How the Perfect Soulmate would just materialize and rescue me. He would be perfectly handsome, charming, and intelligent, and know how to dance (like Prince Hans! Okay I'll stop).

I suppose a part of me mourns the end of the childlike romanticism. I will never have the same level of hopeful excitement that I did all those times I (unilaterally) hit it off with a guy I just met. The most exciting romantic moments were the first few dates with a guy you really really liked. The awkward anticipation of the first kiss, the waiting for the next date, the first time you hold hands in public. The feeling of almost swooning.

Of course, I’m perfectly happy with the hubs and have absolutely zero desire to be single. My husband and I have a very honest, sincere love. There are no secrets, there is no longing, because we both already have what we want. It’s not really about being single vs. being married.

I suppose I have nostalgia for the dreamy hopefulness. The kind of silly romance you see in your kid’s Disney movie that was once so real and palpable in your adolescent self.

(By the way, this post completely obviates the whole point of “Frozen,” which is all about women coming into their own and not needing any Man to prevail. And I just realized I became one of those moms who blogged about “Frozen.” Ugh, how unoriginal.)