There was once a little blonde puppet dressed in purple. She had little purple clogs, a glittery purple dress and even purple eyeshadow to match her purple eyes and dainty little mouth.
If a fairy had appeared from nowhere and turned her into a real girl, then she would have been considered someone who was a people pleaser, someone with low self esteem, a worrier perhaps prone to anxiety and depression. As a real girl she may have sought herself help from a cognitive behavioural therapist.
But as it is, she is a dancing puppet with a penchant for purple clothes and glitter.
She often goes on dates with boy puppets (alas, she has not yet found her Pinocchio), and on these dates she truly sparkles. She is witty, sexy, interesting, full of big smiles and giggles. The boy puppets generally always ask her out again. But as she smiles, inside she feels rather, well, wooden. Her heart has not yet come into play and without any real emotion to fuel it, her sparkle is splintering. It is too bright, too needy. And she is becoming so very very tired with her 'oh please like me, please like me!' dance.
She doesn't only do this dance for the boy puppets. Day in, day out, she performs this dance for anyone who shows a smidgen of interest. Everyone she speaks to. She whirls and twirls on her strings, her expensive glitter swirling around for anyone who might look. She is full of smiles and positivity. She lives a whirlwind of hedonism to make those around her smile. To entertain them with her stories and parties. Without it all she worries everyone will see her for what she is, just a plain wooden puppet.
After another day of whirling and twirling in ernest, desperate for love, attention and belonging. Our lovely purple puppet droops to the ground, her eyes virtually closed, she is caged by self loathing and the need to please others. Yet again her dance has drained her and still she has not recieved the love and appreciation she so craves.
That night, her dreams were visited by a kindly looking fairy dressed all in green.
"Are you going to turn me into a real girl?" asks the puppet.
The fairy shakes her head and instead puts a rather ugly, bony hand on her head. Her kindly face morphs into something far more sinister. She tugs at our puppets hair until tears spring into her large purple eyes.
"If you want to be free, you have to cut your own strings" hisses the fairy before she dissolves into dust.
Although it's agonizing, our brave little puppet pulls down each string and rips at them with her teeth. It feels like it takes hours, all night in fact. As she rips apart one string another seems to appear. But she continues, silently sobbing through the pain, ripping the strings away.
The next morning she wakes with an odd feeling. She is no longer wooden! She has flesh, skin and bone. No longer does she feel self conscious, desperate for others love and desire. Instead of sparkling with need, our purple puppet shimmers with self assurance and worth. She doesn't even feel the need for the purple eyeshadow.
With this new found self love and respect, she is free from pandering to the demands of others. She finds everyone is looking at her differently. Contrary to her expectations, they are looking at her with real admiration, real respect, they really like her.
Finally, our puppet's heart comes into play.
