I was about 12 years old when I first read the great Dickens classic, The Tale of Two Cities. And even though I was relatively young, I was completely swept up in this intense drama, set during the bloody days of the French Revolution.
I also got swept off my feet when it came to Sydney Carton – the lawyer who fell in love with the leading lady. Unfortunately, he didn’t think he was worthy of her love, let alone her attention. And that was mostly because he saw himself as a failure. Sadly, he spent most of the narrative drunk and terribly unhappy. Strangely enough, this disheveled character is the books’ hero, when at the very, very end, he sacrifices his own life so that her husband can live.
You probably think I fell in love with Carton, the hero.
But to be honest, I fell in love with his sad, lonely character, who cried himself to sleep as the morning light poured onto his bed. I never really asked myself why his character resonated so much with me. Back then, I didn’t have a care in the world.
Now, 20 years later, my love for Carton makes sense.
I see myself in him. No, I’m not a clever lawyer, who drinks like a fish and suffers from unrequited love.
I’m a 32-year-old woman, who wonders if she’ll ever actually find her way. And sometimes, I look back on my life and wonder if it’s all just been a waste of time.
I’ve struggled with depression for years, and I’ve had several bouts of anorexia, too. I’ve tried countless graduate programs, all to no avail. And at this point, I wonder if I’ll ever accomplish my life’s work. Or, if I’ll ever know what that actually is.
I look around at people I’ve known for years, and watch as they find their way, smiling as they go.
Will I ever be one of them? Is it too late for me?
Deep down, I don’t believe it is, but sometimes, it sure does feel that way.
And then I take comfort in Carton. The compassion and tenderness I still feel toward him is something that I’ve only just begun to feel toward myself. I don’t know if I intuitively knew that Carton and I would be such soul mates back then. And I really hope my admiration of him didn’t manifest my similar lack of direction and self-love.
But the happy ending to this story is the same as Carton’s ending. Except I still keep my head. Thank God!
The ending is this: love always wins. And if I have love as my intention, and love as my action, I am heroic.
Imperfections, social blunders, embarrassments, and failure to meet societal norms doesn’t decrease our capacity to love and to be loved. We still have the power to be hero’s, in big or small ways.
Carton’s ending is that redemption is found in love.
And this is my beginning.
Author: Marie Therese Batt
Email: [email protected]
Author Bio: Marie Therese Batt uses her life-changing but difficult experiences with anorexia and depression as the catalyst and inspiration for her work. As a writer and illustrator, Marie creates empowering content to help women love who they are, and overcome the widespread illness of fear. Marie currently resides in Italy, where she enjoys eating with the locals at little trattoria’s. Check out her new book, The Heiress Project, available on Amazon.
Link to social media or website: http://marietheresebatt.com
https://twitter.com/marietherese36
