Mitgliedbrendablight

It's crazy like a fox.

When I was a little girl I never dreamt of some future far-off wedding with some wonderfully domestic man, instead I dreamt of mythical lands where I could have great adventures as a legendary swordswoman or a fabled sorceress. So I definitely never had the urge to pretend I was a princess or a damsel in distress or anything silly like that. No, I wanted to be a great warrior like Red Sonja or Valeria. I wanted to live in a world where no man could be intimate with me unless he beat me in a fair swordfight or did something fantastic or somehow involved a particular sort of magic or brute strength or something like that. And like Valeria I wanted to live forever.
Of course my fantasies never became reality. But that never kept me from averting a domesticated livelihood propagated by soccer moms. I idolized a different sort of woman, probably because I still found solace in the pages of comic books depicting super heroines with extraordinary abilities or novels heralding the wonders of warrior-like ladies or movies displaying ass-whooping bitches with battle-ready weapons.