Feeling Bereft...and the loss of one's Tiara

Departing for vacation is never quite like the departure one takes to return home. Anticipation and excitement flow through my body as a river to a gorge. Like the early days of a new romance the thrill is in the newness of the unexpected. This is especially true when traveling to a new destination. This past week I had my first romance with Disneyland…cliché isn’t it? As a child I dreamt of the magic kingdom, but as I matured the destinations I longed to see matured with me - it’s much more sophisticated to think of traveling to Paris or Monaco. To my surprise, a mouse and his house filled my heart with wonderment, more than I imagined even as a child. I credit this to two things: first, the company I was in; and second, a ten dollar tiara that transformed me into a princess, if only for a few days. I took my youngest sister Amelia, my best friend Clarissa, and Perrie. In fact, the entire purpose of the trip was to fulfill a goal that Perrie has had for years; as long as I have known Perrie she has talked of going to see Walt Disney. I have been planning to take Perrie for the last two years, always finding a reason to delay the trip for another season. We were planning to finally go this fall when I said, why wait, let’s go now. Traveling with Perrie can be both physically and mentally challenging; Amelia and Clarissa went as reinforcements. Even more important than the support they provided for Perrie was the perspective I gained in their presence. I have the tendency to be so focused on providing everyone with what I interpret as their needs that I forget to enjoy the moment. I feel the need to maintain the role of adult and parent, forgoing fun for the appearance of maturity. Amelia and Clarissa forced me to live in the present without fear of embarrassment, embracing the possibility of laugh lines as proof that I indeed could laugh at myself.

Disneyland, albeit highly commercial and overpriced, is enchanting. The smells of the park are a fragrant bouquet of childhood treats and fantasy. As if traveling outside of the city and seeing the stars for the first time...I felt the magic from head to toe, this was of course made easier by the tiara I wore on my head. Where else can a grown woman wear a tiara without chagrin? For those few days I believed I could be a princess. I felt beautiful, gracious and self-assured, as any true princess would. The presence of the tiara bewitched me; I was all at once Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty and Snow White. But as fast as the euphoria of my own fairy tale came, it vanished…one does not wear a tiara upon her departure for home, what would the gas station attendant think and what might the neighbors say? So for now my tiara will glisten upon a shelf as a reminder of the few days I spent returning to the wonderment of childhood, my personal Neverland.