A Fairy Tale Relationship

We frequently hear that fairy tales and popular culture have warped or ruined our expectations of relationships and men.

I will often concede the point. I mean, sincerely, "Twilight?" "Fifty Shades of Gray?" Not only SO NOT romantic, they're not even well written! I never managed to read either in its entirety, even after being urged to do so. Selected passages were enough to convince me to conserve my brain cells and my limited time. Neither is even in shouting distance of my idea of the ideal man or the perfect relationship. (Or, for that matter, even good sex. Eeewww.)

I'm still bitter about the whole "Bridges of Madison County" hysteria. If you missed that (give thanks!), it was the MUST READ a couple of decades ago. After Meryl Streep and Clint Eastwood agreed to be in the movie version, I thought, well, maybe I'm being hastily judgmental.

Nope.

Supposedly, Francesca (I remember her name because there was a huge spike in baby girls receiving the name) was able to endure her stifling marriage and unhappy life only because she had three glorious days with her One True Love. Aside from the fact that I don't buy into the whole ridiculous concept of "there's only one perfect person for you" nonsense, three freaking days? Are you joking? That's not even enough time to have had your first disagreement! Nobody's left their dirty socks lying around, disparaged your mother, failed to notice your haircut, alienated your best friend, spent all weekend watching football instead of antiquing... THREE DAYS? Good heavens! THAT'S your idea of The Love That Will Always Sustain You? Have you ever had a crush on someone, just swooned over them, then discovered that they were a jerk? It didn't happen in the first three days of a relationship, did it? That's just adolescent nonsense! I'm secure that even serial killers could charm you for three darned days!

Yeah; don't get me started.

Sometimes, though, writers get it right. Sometimes the planets (or whatever represents your personal harbingers of karma or good fortune) align, and you get writers and actors who get it right.

This is how I came to be in love with fairy tale characters in a fictional relationship on a TV show.

I've loved ABC's "Once Upon A Time" from the beginning. It's a great rendering of a fun concept. If you don't watch the show, though, this will make no sense to you; either accept that or stop reading, I guess.

The lovely Jennifer Morrison plays our heroine, Emma. Her world is populated by fairy tale characters. They - the writers and producers - seemed to very much want Emma to be in a relationship, but the ones they tested out didn't work. I wanted Emma to be in a relationship; that woman needs to be happy.

I was not terribly impressed when the show added Captain Hook. Oh, great, I thought - they're giving us a good looking, British accented pirate in eyeliner in order to appeal to Johnny Depp fans; it's a cheap and shallow move. When they gave him lines like, "So you've heard of me," I rolled my eyes.

Colin O'Donoghue played the part beautifully; fresh, well imagined, genuine, funny and charming (and, let's face it, he is the best looking man on television). He's also technically delightful to watch as an actor; he never phones it in. Even if he has no lines and is in the background for mere seconds, he's reacting appropriately and deeply. I just didn't think he could save the part from bad writing.

But the writing for Hook wasn't all bad; sometimes, it was inventive and intriguing. I never minded that he was completely mercenary and without loyalty (except to his deceased love, Milah) and that he was over the top flirtatious to anyone female, because he just owned it, without apology.

Then the producers decided to make him a permanent character instead of a guest star, and the writing got steadily even better. They decided to capitalize on his connection with Emma and make him a prospective romantic partner, and it worked. It really worked.

Someone - I'm giving credit to show creators Adam Horowitz and Edward Kitsis - knows how an actual healthy relationship works, and what it looks like. There's the requisite unnecessary drama because it's TV (and that sometimes annoys me), but at its core, the Hook/Emma relationship is authentic and healthy because it's written that way.

Hook puts not only Emma, but her family, first, even before he acknowledges that he loves her. He heads straight into danger, and puts aside his own long held agenda, because it's best for Emma and her family. He doesn't, at that point, even particularly like her father, David - and the feeling is mutual - but he saves David's life, never intending to let anyone know that he had, simply because Emma loves David. There's no martyr attitude, no "look at me!" effort to impress, just doing the right thing because it's the right thing.

After he acknowledges, to himself and everyone else, that he's in love with her, it's a done deal. There's no second guessing, no fall back plan. She and her family will always come first. There's also no pressure; he's very willing to let her return to her first love, Neal, if that is what will actually make her happy, and be best for her family.

(Neal, for his part, does the same. There's a bit of jealousy, but he too wants what's best for Emma, and he's willing to concede that what Emma wants is what's best for her. He'd like that to be him, but if it's Hook, he's OK with that. When Emma's family was in danger and it was nearly impossible to do anything about it, Neal was the one who knew who to turn to, who would leave no stone unturned until the job was done - "Find Captain Hook." It was a very classy way for the writers to handle the whole thing, instead of getting unnecessarily soap opera-ish, or TV talk show slapfest, about it. Mature people behaving maturely is often seen as "boring" TV, but let me assure you, it's actually a great idea. We the audience appreciate it.)

Emma has, at the least, commitment issues. For a man in love with her, that goes from aggravating to painful and back again, but Hook never takes it personally.

Out here in the real world, my oldest daughter is married to a great guy. One of the first ways that we knew that he was going to be a great partner for her, that he actually understood my daughter and what made her tick, was his approach to getting engaged.

Lana, my daughter, has commitment issues. She rarely buys anything without buyer's remorse. She can tie herself in knots over choosing the chicken or the fish off of a menu, then be depressed when it arrives and she decides that she'd actually wanted the beef. Decisions are protracted, painful affairs for her. The more important the decision, the more she agonizes, and the longer it takes. Since she was a child, we've worried that her answer to, "Will you marry me?" would be, "Um... I don't know. Let me think about it. When do you need an answer?"

Craig, her husband, first discussed things in the most general, theoretical ways possible. Then he moved on to things like, "What style of ring do you like?" Then he hinted, for months, it seemed, that there was an important discussion that he'd want to have some time in the future.

She, predictably, freaked out. She didn't dump him, thank goodness, but she agonized. She phoned us for advice, repeatedly. I'm sure that her college roommates bore the brunt of her angst. She worried and fretted.

He never, ever, took it personally. There were no complaints about how she couldn't really care about him if it was this difficult for her, no whining about dragging things out, no jokes about cold feet, no hurt feelings - nothing but cheerful patience. That was when we knew. He gets her. He doesn't just enjoy her company or think she's pretty or want to be married to somebody, he understands her.

When he finally asked the question, he'd given her enough time, space and lack of pressure to sort out how she felt, and why. The answer was not only an immediate "yes," but she wanted the wedding to be in four months. She was busy with her final semester of college and applying for jobs, so my Type A, control freak (and I say that with love) daughter, who hates my taste, turned over most of the planning to me, not really caring what food was served or where the reception was or if there were centerpieces. "If we're married at the end of the day, it was a good day." That's what support and understanding from your partner does.

I thought of that often while I watched Hook. He didn't disappear, he didn't pressure, he just waited. He reminded me of my son in law.

For those same reasons, and because I'm a parent, I enjoy watching Emma's parents. Her mother, as is the way with most mothers, is usually concerned with how Emma feels. David focused on Hook. Over the course of a TV season, David went from outright hostility ("Stay away from my daughter!") and discouragement ("She is never going to like you") to insisting to both of them, as Emma headed into a dangerous situation, "He's going with you. You're going with her." He was the first in the family to say, "I thought he deserved a little credit." When Emma recently emerged between her father and Hook after escaping from danger, David considered it natural that it was Hook she turned to and wrapped her arms around. Slowly, naturally, before their daughter had ever even been on an official date with the man, they started including him in family meetings, family decisions, and even their joint job as sheriff (give that man a deputy's badge, already); in fact, when Emma showed up at the diner looking for Hook, his first response was not, "Hello, gorgeous. Looking for me?" It was, "Did I miss a search party?" Again, making sure that he helps her family is his top priority. Because David sees and recognizes that, Hook and David have developed a relationship that I find delightful.

David recently jumped in to push Hook out of harm's way. Part of that is the quality that makes him a good person and a good leader (after all, he is both Prince Charming and the sheriff), and that's putting others first regardless, but part is the simple fact that he's returning the favor; Hook puts us first, so we put Hook first.

Watching people trying to figure out the balance of "we" to "me" can be funny (or painful). Over thirty years later, we still laugh about a newly engaged friend who said to his fiancee, "Jeannette, where is our purse?" Hook got it right without any stumbling. An example: when he and Emma ended up going back in time - yeah, it's TV - he cautioned Emma repeatedly that they had to be very, very careful, or things could get disastrous. Then, of course, she literally snapped a twig and changed a hugely significant moment. Hook's immediate, gut reaction was to say, "Now, because of us..." Us. There was absolutely no moment of, "I told you so." I know so many people, even otherwise reasonable people in healthy relationships, who would have been unable to resist repeated lectures. "I TOLD you how careful you had to be! I warned you that this could happen! You never listen! Now we have a mess on our hands! After everything I've done for you, you couldn't handle this one simple thing! How could you be so careless?" Not healthy. I also know otherwise reasonable people who would have written a fictional account that way on the theory that conflict and bickering are "interesting." Meanwhile, this fictional pirate calmly stated the problem as a "we" issue and went about the important part, trying to fix it. Genius writing.

Emma's also figuring it out. She's always been deeply defensive. Someone will frequently say something that will cause her to distance herself. Last year, when her friend Regina complained about having to deal with "the doe eyes and the yearning looks," Emma's immediate response was, "I don't yearn." Now, when Regina complained about having to watch Emma and Hook "make eyes" at each other, the defensive response was, "We don't make eyes." We. (It was also cute that she realized almost immediately that yeah, they do.)

It was also while talking to Regina that Emma first verbalized, very casually and naturally, "I trust him." She has deep, intrinsic abandonment and betrayal issues, so trust is no small thing, and considering its existence just part of the landscape is bigger, and healthier, than making grand declarations. "I know that the writers and the actress are aware of what that (trust) means," I told my husband. "I just hope that the character has figured it out." We watched her trust him - with her safety, her family, her feelings - over and over. We watched her send him - rather unwillingly - off to take care of the very pretty damsel in distress in town, when a woman less secure in what his actions would be would never have let her significant other be alone with a pretty, mysterious woman. She's extending that trust to so many things - her childhood, her memories - that indicate that she does indeed know what a big deal it is that she can and does trust him.

Hook (wisely) let Emma take the lead on most instances of kissing. Watching his face, and hers, the first time he recognized that she would not only tolerate but welcome a kiss was heartwarming. Even more heartwarming are the small, non sexual touches - a hand on the arm, a hand held, the bright, instant smile at seeing the glasses Emma wore as a teen. Incongruous moments - watching him use his hook to tenderly smooth down her hood - are funny and delightful. They get it right.

Helen O'Donoghue is obviously a very blessed woman, because her husband wouldn't know how to play a man in love as well as he does if he hadn't felt it. You can write this stuff, you can go to acting classes, but you can't produce the best results without talent and experience.

Every now and then I read someone complaining about the, well, idiosyncrasies of the script. OK, Milah was the mother of Neal. This doesn't bother me, truly. I'm also aware that Hook is a killer and a thief; we've seen him be both. Based on the time and place he's from (he's hundreds of years old), it's very normal. Three or four generations ago, it was both legal and accepted to challenge someone to a fatal duel just because you thought that they were disrespectful. Also, piracy isn't exactly swindling the elderly out of their pensions. I'm not bothered by these things. I mean, I don't recommend wallowing in death and illgotten gains, but nobody's doing that.

If I may, though, be extremely presumptuous and tell people how to do their jobs, even though I dislike that behavior, I'd like to speak to Mr. Kitsis and Mr. Horowitz. I read the interview in which you said, "Our show is a drama. They (Hook and Emma) won't be sitting around watching Netflix and ordering pizza." Respectfully - why not? Let all the drama and conflict and threats be outside of the relationship! Let them have a safe, secure, quiet place from which to go out and fight the world and its villains and problems together. They're good at it. It works for Snow and Charming. It works for other fictional couples on other shows. A happy relationship is not a show killer. Let the audience enjoy some Netflix and pizza nights with them.

Keep getting it right. We'll keep thanking you for it.

So, there it is. I'm thinking that people can take relationship advice from fictional people on a fairy tale themed show; and I stand by that opinion.

Go Ahead. Disagree With Me.

               One of my daughters tended to get into unnecessary, interminable arguments with her childhood best friend. Both bright, opinionated and stubborn, they loved each other but would occasionally butt heads with vigor. Once, my daughter came home from school furious, absolutely fuming, because they'd argued about vacations. "She won't admit that our vacation was better than hers!" my angry child informed me.

                "It's a good thing that she loved her vacation. Hers was best for her family, and ours was best for our family," I told her. My offspring did not agree; she practically snorted with derision.

                "But ours was so much better than hers! Hers was lame! She just won't admit it!"

                In spite of my repeated attempts to explain that everyone has different tastes, and that everyone should be happy with their own lives instead of being envious of others, they were both so angry that they didn't speak to each other for a couple of days, each convinced that their trip was best (and that the other girl was the stubborn one).

                Two or three years later, they got into an argument about religion. Again, my daughter came home from school fuming and angry. Both our families attended Christian churches, but, of course, there are differences in doctrine. The girls had been arguing about one of those differences.

                "A lot of churches believe that," I told her when she explained her friend's position.

                "But that's wrong!"

                "Yeah, but they think we're the ones who are wrong."

                We went around and around. I tried, repeatedly, to explain that everyone believes different things, that that's OK. Everyone needs to be polite and respectful to others whose opinions are different.

                "But I explained to her how it is, and she just kept repeating!"

                "And you kept repeating."

                "I was explaining! She wouldn't listen!"

                "And she was explaining what she believed. She listened and she understood you; she just didn't change her mind. After you each said it once, you need to stop. After once, it's not explaining any more. It's arguing. Arguing will not change people's minds. It will just make them angry. She's too good a friend to lose over a difference of opinion."

                I was frustrating my daughter almost as much as her friend was. Finally, she snapped at me, "So I'm just supposed to let people think things that are wrong?" She was apparently unprepared for my answer:

                "YES!"

                 I become more and more convinced that parents must have stopped telling their kids this at some point. So many people seem totally unclear on the fact that people have a moral, and in the U. S., a legal, right to think and say things that others find silly, superstitious, prejudiced, immoral, inaccurate and in any other way just plain wrong.

                I watch in amazement as people who consider themselves freethinking libertarians comment on something in the media by saying, "I can't even believe they're allowed to say that!" without a hint of irony.

                Quite often, the people who profess to be the most open minded will be the most scathing toward anyone who disagrees with them. Sometimes I'll have ludicrous conversations with people. They'll be going all existential, insisting things like, "There is no universal right or wrong. Everyone's path is just as valid as anyone else's," and I'll be unable to resist saying, "So, my path of choosing to follow a fairly strict, religious course is just as valid as your path." Almost invariably, that will be met by, "Well, no, because in your path, you tell other people that their course is wrong. That's not OK." So much for the concept that there is no wrong choice.

                "So you think I'm wrong."

                "Yes! And I think if you try to tell other people what to do, that's hurtful and dictatorial."

                "So it's wrong to tell people that what they're doing is wrong."

                "Yes! Exactly!"

                "So then, is it wrong of you to tell me that I'm doing things wrong? You just did. Are you being hurtful and dictatorial by telling me that I should do things differently?"

                "No! I'm trying to get you to see that everyone else should choose their own path!"

                "But you think the path I've chosen is wrong."

                "You didn't choose it! You're doing what someone else tells you to do!"

                At that point, I can either go with, "But if you tell me to do something, and I do it, that's OK," or "So an opinion is only valid if no one else agrees with it? No one ever introduced you to the things that you believe?" Either one will make the other person angry.

                Usually, it will boil down to something that looks like, "It's OK for me to do certain things because my opinion is right. It's wrong for you to do those same things because your opinion is wrong."

                So exhausting. So annoying. So erroneous.

                Frequently, it's best to just stop the discussion, because nothing productive will come of it.

                It's not just the biggies – religion, politics, child rearing – that get folks up in arms. I once had someone badger me for months because I like a particular chain restaurant's chili. ("They use the burgers that have cooked too long to sell! You're OK with paying to eat overcooked beef that they couldn't sell as burgers?" Answer: "YES. And it's a heck of a lot less wasteful than throwing it out!") When my daughter was getting married, I listened to more than one person criticize her choice to have matching attendants' dresses by saying, "Doesn't she know that matchy-matchy went out of style?" YES. Yes, she knew. She just didn't care, and it was HER wedding. Say that to certain people, and you'll get quite the reaction. Apparently, in some circles, it's more shocking to be willfully unfashionable than it is to disagree on whether or not there's a God.

                I always thought that people shared ideas so that they'd understand one another. I am never offended if you don't agree with me. I am offended if you question my intelligence or if you browbeat me with the intent to change my mind. So often, with people I know personally and people I read about or see on TV, I see shades of those two girls whose age was barely into double digits; people get increasingly angry if they can't change your mind. They've explained the error of your ways to you. If you persist in holding your opinion instead of changing to theirs, well, that's obviously a sign of low intelligence and almost criminal stubbornness. That attitude makes me angry. It always will.

                I notice, too, that many people attempt to avoid the unpleasantness of being adult enough to disagree peacefully by caving in. Faced with a loved one who is doing something that they always believed to be wrong, this type of person will think, "My loved one is intelligent, well intentioned and well informed. Therefore, if they disagree with me, I must be wrong." That's ridiculous. It is totally possible to be intelligent, well intentioned, well informed and wrong. Do you know anyone – ANYONE – with whom you haven't the slightest disagreement on ANY subject?

                We, collectively, seem to have lost the knowledge that you can truly, deeply care about someone, even love them, and consider them to be wrong at the same time.

                Sometimes, someone will attempt to show me the error of my ways by saying, ever so gently, "You know that most people disagree with you, right?" as though 1. I didn't know, and 2. I will now immediately conform to the majority simply because there are more of them. Really, folks? What's that about?

                It also ticks me off when people ask, "Aren't you aware that your opinion causes other people pain?" Yes. Yes, I am aware. Do you know what my first clue was? The fact that the opinions of other people often cause ME pain. I understand this to be a normal part of the human condition, not a reason for forced conformity.

                Think about it: according to many religious teachings, including those of my religion, certain behaviors will not necessarily cause pain in this life, but will cause eternal separation from loved ones in the next life. If you're in my life, I want you to continue to be there. It's an act of amazing restraint on my part that I don't burst into tears every time I see someone doing something that I believe to be wrong.  If I flung myself, sobbing, at the feet of every person who, say, drank alcohol in my presence, wailing, "I don't want to lose you!" people would think I was a loon, and the relationship wouldn't last long.

NOT flinging myself down sobbing doesn't mean that I agree with you. It means that certain aspects of your life are none of my business, so I stay out of them. I expect you to return the favor.

I see frequent complaints on Facebook that, "Someone un-friended me because of something I said!" Just as frequently, I see status posts that say, "If I ever offend you, or if you want to talk about (insert topic), please unfriend me!" While anyone in my life is certainly free to dump me at any time, and I will never try to keep someone in my life who doesn't want to be there, I find the idea that we can only be friends with people we agree with to be sad – and juvenile.

Someone tried to explain that to me once by saying, "I just can't be friends with someone who has opinions that I find to be morally wrong." I wonder if they thought about the fact that their opinions were offensive to me, and yet I didn't feel the need to jettison the relationship.

If they didn't, they should have.