I invite you to think about Regina. A good hearted young girl who lives in a world that says that help comes to good people who need it. Fairies come when you wish upon a star, princes come to young girls in distress, heroes ride in to rescue those in need. She believed it so much that when she heard a young child’s frightened cries she thought nothing of jumping on a horse and barreling down a hillside to save a stranger.
She believed all of these things because her culture told her they were true even though she lived in a house where things didn’t work that way. Her mother was a monster. She could hear the sound of the hearts she had taken in the family sitting room. She could see the servants and her own father terrified. But she believed in love and the power of love. Because love was more powerful than her mother’s magic. Love meant more than her mother’s empty promises of power.
And yes, bad things happened to her. And she was lost and scared after her love was ripped from her. But she still thought of the King as a good man. Perhaps she thought she could find some happiness in that castle. Or perhaps the hero would still come, or the fairies would finally answer her wishes. Or the good king, the good man, would look at her and see that she was in pain and he would help her.
But no one ever helped Regina. No fairy. No hero. No prince. No king.
None of the people who helped everyone else. None of the guardians of the good and the innocent. But they did come and help others. Regina could see that. Regina from her cold and isolated gilded cage could see how the world did work that way for everyone else.
And she must have asked…
… why wont anyone help me?
And the answer she must have reached was that the fairies and the princes and the heroes never helped her because they only help the good and the righteous and she was none of those things.
It hurt as much or more to be a good person as to be a monster.
She must be a monster because it is only monsters that are left to suffer alone. And so she became a monster… as much from the indifference of those who had a duty to help as by those who actively filled her with darkness.