A White Rose

"Lovely in lace. Why would any woman want to be a bad-ass?" – @AliceTeller

Rosalie Lillian Hale. The White Rose.

Pretty in white.

Bad ass?

Some may say, without hesitation, hells ya!

But this is not what she wants to be at all.

She's angry and bitter.

But this is not what she wants to be at all, either.

She wanted the Happy Ending: the Happily Ever After. Her, by her Handsome, Gallant Man, with her three children frolicking in a field of flowers.

That's what she wanted. She could see it. She could taste it.

So, what happens when it was all taken away from her?

She became a bad ass.

But this was not of her choosing, or, it was, after life closed all its doors on her, her gallant man turned out to be the lowest form of cur, and children were forever ripped away from her in one tragic, terrible turn of events.

But...

Now?

So now she's had her revenge, and now she has her bleak future. Her pointless future, her hopeless future: "Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow creeps on its petty pace." That's all she has to look forward to until the end of time.

And any person who crosses her path, ... well, many do, unknowingly, and marvel at the ice queen, the cold, heartless beauty beyond compare. But those who cross her path, knowingly?

Rosalie. Bad ass.

They don't stand a chance.

She is living in the future she did not want.

But look at her.

Have you ever seen a tragedy sadder than this? King Midas' daughter, a perfect beauty, now separated from all of humanity by her very perfection.

So, now she has a choice. To, as she always has done, rise above her circumstance, to be her separate from the whole and from humanity.

To be separate from her humanity.

"Being a woman means embracing one's feminity, not rejecting it. It's intelligence, grace, compassion, and a fierceness specific to her." – @ThisCatholicGrl

Rosalie has walked the path of inhumanity for a year, and it's been a long, hard, self-loathing, hate-filled year at that.

Perhaps there is a new path she can take. Being feminine does not mean being weak. Being 'bad ass' does not mean being invulnerable, or, perhaps it does mean exactly that. But it is our vulnerability that makes us human, that makes us open, yes, weak, yes, but in this weakness we are strong, because being a human, being a woman, means that your soul, strong, feminine, caring, can reach out to another soul, perhaps even another soul that needs you, right here, and right now, and in reaching out to them, being with them, caring for them, hurting with them, maybe you are the only one in the world who can heal the wounds of this other person.

Perhaps, by opening up, they are the only person in the world that can heal yours.

God put you here. God put people into your life.

They can hurt you. They will hurt you.

But being a bad ass, invulnerable ... is that living your life, or just surviving, 'fighting the fight,' winning the war with acceptable losses: the people you hurt and at the price of your soul.

And being hurt.

That's not fun. And it can be fatal.

But maybe that's a way to experience life, living, and ... okay, don't seek out hurt to be hurt, don't open yourself just to be hurt.

But if you do open up, you may, you shall be hurt, sometimes.

But when you do open yourself up, you do open up to joy, to hope, ... to love.

Why do women want to be bad asses? So they can be one of the tough guys, too? Just as good as any man.

No: better!

That's not necessary. There's enough guys in the world, and enough tough guys, too. Yes, heroes are sorely misses now, so, yes, guys need to step up to the plate and start swinging. The vacuum of men ceding their manhood is that women have stepped forward to fill that void.

But at what price to themselves?

Women, you don't need to be a bad ass. You can be woman, and strong, and fierce, and protective, and and kind, and caring, and beautiful, and ... feminine.

Why pretend to be a bad ass, when you, already as and who you are, are a kick-ass girl?

Let the boys pound there chests and swagger about. You can be the model of decency, dependability, decorum, but dulce, dulce, so dulce that you are admired for your dignity, femininity, and respected for the rock-solid strength you have within you.

You.

You, being you: nothing can touch you, who you are.

No weapon formed against you shall prosper. All who would rise up against you shall fall.

You are a daughter of the King of Kings, and that makes you royalty: beautiful and radiant.