Damsel in Distress Disorder

I opened my eyes and found myself in a war zone outside of a high school. I sat in the back seat of a car, my body draped over a set of screaming twin girls who appeared to be around four years old. With a shocked breath I assessed the situation and realized that the girls needed to get into the building in order to stand any sort of chance. The problem was that the people shooting at us were on the roof of the school. Taking a chance I unbuckled both girls, wrapped them in my arms and started to sprint toward the school.

Suddenly I was inside, seemingly unhurt, and the girls were being taken from me. I saw in the eyes of the woman who took them that they would be safe. It was then that I collapsed on the floor, trying to figure out how I had gotten into this strange and dangerous situation. I was shaking from apparent shock and couldn’t get my facts in order. As I was shivering, wondering if I was about to be killed, I glanced up into the most caring and nervous eyes I had ever seen. The opal color of the eyes threw me off, until I realized I wasn’t frightened. He reached his arms out and circled me in them, and I knew he would keep me safe.
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It is strange, this endless desire to be rescued. I keep finding myself hoping to be in a horribly trapped situation with my life or mental well being on the line. I don’t want this to happen per say, but I am willing to let it occur if someone rescues me like they did in my dream. Perhaps I could be saved by a dashing man in clothes that I do not even notice because his eyes are so pained at the thought of losing me in any way.

I am not alone in fantasies of this nature; it seems that most women can relate to desires such as this. There are books and movies that play off of this constant want to be helpless just so someone can save you. The Twilight series by Stephanie Meyer is one such example. It doesn’t seem to be the fact that Bella isn’t afraid of vampires in this series that is so enthralling. It is the utter adoration that Edward has for her. The love is evident, but it is the fact that she is truly helpless and he saves her many times that sells the books.

Is it simply an evolutionary quality, women’s constant need to be rescued and feel safe? Perhaps it is a hand-me-down emotion that has been inherited from the days of pack mentalities. Being saved by a man could be on par with having an alpha protect the pack and the cubs within it. Perhaps despite the women’s liberation movements, they, along with men, are still driven by instinct.

Or perhaps, I just need a boyfriend.