5 Ways To Be Your Goddess Self ( the original, ancient greek way)

You know. 

Greek Goddesses. 

Those gorgeous divine females that drove men and gods alike crazy with desire, the ones adored and loved by mortals, presiding over and protecting  just about anything meanigful in our plane of existence.

Those kind of goddesses.


If you feel drawn to reaching your true female divine potential, 
you wonna access your inner greek goddess. 

Why?

Because the six major Olympian goddesses ( and a bunch you've never heard of as a side note) each stood for the most celebrated, the most sacred, the most craved for part of the female psyche. Each goddess was an archetype of the inner part of the glorious, eternal woman (same holds true for greek Gods and the archetypal male psyche, but that's another story folks).

Greeks had a god for anything. Anything you can think of, anything part of human nature, they had a patron god for it. Because they believed in individuality and the multifaceted nature of human life. Because they believed in the sacredness of everything. By honoring the archetypal goddess in you, you discover your true nature, the uniqueness only you can bring to this world. 

And here is how to go about it:


1. Εmbrace your gorgeousness

The Webster dictionary defines a goddess as ''a woman greatly admired for her beauty''. All greak goddesses were stunning. There were a few obnoxious greek gods but goddesses? They all had to be devinely beautiful, no exceptions. Even queen of death, Persephone, was drop dead gorgeous. 

You see, Greeks knew only too well that a woman , a true woman, heals through her beauty. Her beauty is her weapon of attraction , desire and healing. Beacause beauty is light and joy and love. And light and joy and love are just about the best healing elements in all universes.

If you are a woman, no matter your age or what your physical looks like, you are an aspect of beauty that materialised in this world. Each time you are true to your loving feminine nature -even when practicing tough love, yeah- , you are true beauty, worthy of adoration and worship. So practice love and see your physical transform before your very eyes into your goddess-like beauty potential.

2. Be a Helper

Every goddess was a helper, one way or another. A guardian angel of sorts. Whether they made the earth fertile and seasons change or help women in labor or assist heroes in their feats, being a goddess meant her helping mortals and gods in her area of divine expertise. No goddess kept her divine gifts or powers to herself. She shared them generously and joyously with the word. All you had to do was ask her, and you were given according to your need and faith in her.

Be a greek goddess. Be generous of heart. Share your gifts and talents freely with the world. Just that single practice is enough of its own accord to elevate you to goddess-like status. Because goddesses knew that the more they shared their gifts with whoever asked for them, the more their divine powers grew.


3. Relish your passions

So you think that just because greek goddesses were helpers by nature they were all angelic-like and demurely well-behaved?

Think again. All goddesses relished their passions. Their fury and wrath was notorious and feared, their desires and cunning tricks and manipulative tactics and weaknesses expressed in all its glorious humanity. Hera's jealousy raised hell in Jupiter's world, Venus's desires brought trouble to many, and cat-fighting between goddesses was a common occurence.

But that never made them any less divine or glorious or worthy of adoration. On the contrary. It was this particular side of them that endeared them to the souls of all their mortal worshippers who knew only too weell what it was like to feel those very same emotions and passions.

Revel, rejoice in your passion. Embrace your dark side unapologetically. Vent. Dance in your sea of negativity if you have to. Then come out of it more divine than ever

4. Be comfortable with being worshipped

No goddess would go about asking to be loved, admired or worshipped. It just happened naturally, as a byproduct of her being a helper and a healer. But woe begone those who insulted a goddess or failed to give her her due. Because that meant withdrawal of her protection and help and divine gifts. And you wouldn't want that to happen, believe me.

Be comfortable with being loved and adored. Not in an arrogant, ''I demand this just because'' mentality but rather in an accepting, loving manner of a goddess that knows her worth and knows that accepting love and adoration gracefully is the other part of giving and offering generously.


5. Be Uncontrollably Joyous

Despite their various passions, intrigues or adventures and fights, gods and goddeses had one thing for them that separated them from the world of mortals: they lived in a state of eternal bliss. Their joyful happiness was constant and uninterrupted, self-generated and defining their true status as divine beings. Homer said that Olympus, the residence of the gods and goddesses, constantly echoed with their 'uncontrollable laughter''. 

Accessing your inner goddess is only a joyful thought away. And the more you stay in your bliss, the more goddess like you become.

A note:
I dont believe in finding just one single goddess archetype you identify with ( you know, those popular ''which greek goddess are you'' quizzes and the like). We are each and every different goddess at various points in our lives. Human nature is a beautiful, complicated thing, and all the rainbow colors of emotions are there to give meaning and beauty to our human experience.

Embrace them all. Honor all the goddesses in you.
And rejoice in your divine/ human nature.

Love and goddess bliss 
Eirini

5 Ways To Take The Best Self-portraits Ever

To me, selfies are the ultimate tool in self love, courageous self expression and self confidence. And here is why:

Says  Erin Tatum in everyday feminism:

''We’re conditioned to believe that external validation is a necessary substitute for self-confidence. Furthermore, having any positivity toward yourself is deeply stigmatized, policed by accusations of narcissism and superficiality.

The real anxiety with women and selfies is that selfies might provide them with the means to create their own positive image of themselves, thereby severely diluting the impact of outside opinion.

If your confidence comes from within, you can’t be controlled as easily.

While there are people who claim that the selfie is little more than a desperate cry for attention, the alternative of girls using selfies as an expression of independence is far more threatening.

To the outside observer, it can be difficult to understand the point of a selfie. Selfies are usually a very spur-of-the moment type of thing that aren’t meant to commemorate any particular special occasion.

People start to wonder why you’re taking so many pictures without any discernible sentimental value. More often than not, those who take selfies are labeled attention-seekers.

Ultimately, selfies don’t have to be about likes or comments. Sure, everyone enjoys a bit of admiration, but it’s also about your relationship with yourself.

You don’t have to apologize for noticing yourself. Drink yourself in. Celebrate yourself. Never feel guilty for announcing your presence. You deserve to fill up space.

I love taking selfies because there’s no pressure. You’re by yourself or with friends and you can take as few or as many as you like.

They are an instant confidence boost in almost any situation. Headed to work? Selfie. Did your makeup perfectly? Selfie. Procrastinating something? Selfie.

Selfies challenge the idea that you need a justification to be seen. You’re announcing that you exist in the world and are going about your day.

Strategic selfies can also change the way you perceive yourself, both literally and metaphorically. Various effects like lighting, angles, and filters can turn your selfie into a work of art.

To me, taking a selfie is like playing dress-up.

I might put on nicer clothes or do my hair, but it’s also about the psychological benefits of working through your insecurities. I look good and I know it. Your telling me I look good is going to make me feel even better.

And who really cares if people say it’s pointless or try to bring you down with negativity? All that matters is that it makes you happy. Pleasure gives even the most frivolous things purpose.

Selfies can be radical.

 Whether you’re documenting your strong hair game or just trying to pass the time, it’s your acknowledgement that you’re here and you’re pretty damn awesome.

It takes a lot of bravery to post a selfie, so you should be congratulated regardless.

Remember that it’s always okay to love yourself and feel proud of yourself. I don’t care if you stare at your reflection in the mirror for an hour, as long as you’re confident.''

She's right, you know.

Integrating self portraits into your self love routine can be a radical experience.

And here are my tips for doing so in the most awesome ways possible:

1. Lights, more lights, please

There is a reason why TV show hostesses refuse to work unless the lighting is to their perfect satisfaction, even a young and fresh and flawless face can look drab and unattractive when under no or poor lighting. My 'trademark' selfie is the  elevator selfie because lights are directly above my head there and the added effect of the mirror reflecting them makes me look radiant and fresh. So experiement with natural and artificial lights from various angles and choose the most flattering. You'll be surprised!

2. Feel your way into radiance

Think of some of the happiest moments in your life. Think of the love of your life. Think of moments when you felt loved, cherished, adored. Think of your goals accomplished. Think of anything that lights up your world. Because when you do, your face is instantly transformed into that magical version of you that is irresistible and full of magnetism. Happiness has that effect. Try it out.

3. Movement adds instant oomph

Think plasticity, not rigidity. I learnt this in greek classic art class decades ago. Ancient Greek artists transformed art-sculpture and painting in particular- by adding movement to the rigid  human forms so characteristic before their era and gave their creations a life-like resemblance and beauty. So dont just stand there rigidly posing for the camera, looking like some tight-assed fool, add movement. Pretend or really listen to your favorite song and dance to it. Now take that selfie!

4. Makeup-your instant magic creator

Even if you are a die-hard advocate of natural beauty you can still use this powerful tool of instant transformation. Consider make up your Sunday best for your face. You love yourself exactly the way you are, but enhancing your natural  beauty now and then is fun way of expressing yourself and transforming yourself into a work of art.

5. It's all a numbers game, baby

In the age of digitalised everything , you'd be a fool not to use this to your advantage. Take hundreds of pics at one go. Experiment with different angles, expressions, movements. Then pick the most flattering. It's that simple.

So go make a work of art out of your self portrait.Remember, Rembrand  did a lot of self portraits before he became a celebrated artist, so heaven  knows what's in store for you!

Love and hugs

Eirini

A Story..

I love fairy tales.

Literally and figuratively.

As a kid I used to collect fairy tale story books like other little girls collected dolls.

'' What would you like for your birthday Eirini?

-The collection of African tales we saw in the bookstore the other day''

or a few years ater

-'' If I get straight A's in my school report,  will you guys get me the Greek Mythology Collection Of Stories ?''

It was even more fun to put make up my own fairy tales,consisting of the wild phantasies of a most vivid imagination of a child that mostly lived in her head . My stories were especially popular with  my numerous nieces and nephews -I became an aunt at 8 from my cousins and at twelve frommy sister - and they still remember fondly and have even kept some of those story books of mine, along with their illustrations done by none other than the young author herself,said drawings being a great source of joy for me.

'Auntie, please tell us one of your stories' had come to be one of the most often repeated phrases in my family, linked for me with the most sweet and innocent memories of my teenage years, there on my sister's couch as three or four pairs of eyes were looking at me in wide eyed wonder hanging from my every word.

As is usually the case, when it was time for me to tell stories to my very own kids I was usually too exhausted from the drudgery of house chores or later from a hard day's work at my business to be in the mood for making up stories.However I would daily read to my sons from many story books in order to nourish their imagination as their mom used to nourish hers oce upo her childhood.

The following little story is a tribute to those tales of the good old auntie of those times who still makes up stories in that too-stubborn-to-grow-old head of hers,a head still full of shepherds and princes,dragons and fairies....



Once upon a time, in two different distant kingdoms, there were  two babies that were born at the exact same time and day, the same minute-second, a little prince and a little princess whose souls were so much alike you'd swear that when Plato wrote the myth of the hermaphrodite about the male-female spirit that was violetly split in two and since then have been seeking their other half, he must have had those two in mind.

These babies, as always is the case in fairy tales, were endowed with every talent and grace, the pride of their parents and the entire kingdom, by all means.

Now the three good fairies that gave them those talents upon birth would notice those striking similarities in said babies and discuss it among themselves and the youngest of the three said:

-'' Wouldn't it be great if those two met and fell in love some day! They are sooo well matched. ''

-''Not possible '' said the oldest. You know that what is written cannot be changed. They are meant to marry into other royal families and thus live happily ever after.''

''-So fate cannot be changed, ever? asked the young one again, lost in deep thought .

- "Only if they were two different people, different to those they were intially born, could they possibly meet,'' replied the other.

- 'Two different people ...'' contemplated the little fairy who, truth be told, was as stubborn as hell and if an idea entered her head there was no way she'd forget about it until she had it her own way.

Time passed and the Prince and the Princess grew up endowed with all graces that God bestowed upon them, namely beauty, brains,keeness for learning and kindness, which held together all the other talents, such as a rarediamond bids together all other precious stones in a priceless jewellery piece. Sadly, though, as is usually the case with all gifted creatures in this world, they both had too high an opinion of themselves.

The Princess had all those suitors kneeling in a semi-circle at her feet, her parents, all the courtiers and the entire kingdom doting on her and her fiancé, the prince she had chosen to be her husband showered her with gifts and affection daily All those poisonous fumes of false adoration, however, had begun getting into the Princess's head and one day- I could swear that good little fairy did have something to do with it-a strange idea occured to her: '

'' Supposing all those that swear in my name knew I wasn't a princess; If it wasn't for all my father's riches; If it wasnt for my skin which is pearl-like and if it wasnt for my hair which is flaxen-gold; if it wasn't for  my voice, sweet as a lark's; would they still love me if it wasnt for those things? Oh,even a milkmaid is luckier than me becauses she knows she is being loved  for who she is, but I am not ever to know if this is the case with me.''

Then the little fairy appears right before her eyes.

- 'You can find out, she told her,'' but it will cost you a lot of pain, many tears and perhaps your entire life as you now know it. This might tear you apart and you might even not be able to stand it. On the other had it could heal you from the poison of vanity that has already started eroding your soul and you will know for sure who loves you for what you really are, without your external garnish. Think about it well, for once it begins it is a one way road.''

Because her heart was made of good stuff and with a little help from her angel who loved her dearly, the princess' soul conceded to go through the test. From that day on a strange transformation began to creep upon the princess' entire self. Her white skin began to take a bruise-like hue, her golden hair turned purple, her gleaming eyes lost their luster and took the colour of dark ink... in other words, slowly but inexorably, the princess was turning into a freak of nature, a very sad and strange sight to behold  ..... No longer would her cheerful songs echo throughout the palace and her fun-loving and sunny disposition was replaced by melancholy and depression, until the poor thing was reduced into a shadow of her former self.

Naturally her parents called in the best doctors from all ends of the earth to cure her, but after a while they would shake their heads and admit that such an illness was uknown to them and therefore could  not be cured. Despair befell upon the Kingdom, everyone was in mourning. Until one day there appeared a strange magician in the palace that stared deep into the princess' eyes and claimed that, yes, she could be cured  as long as she ,the princess, would wish it to be so.

''-Of course she does! cried her mother.''

-'' That illness is self- chosen ,'' reported the magician,'' so without her consent it cannot be cured ...''

-'' Tell him, love, that you wish to be cured,'' cried both her parents,''  say it so that everything may be well again!''

The princess lowered her head. '

- 'Then you do not love me as I am; You only loved that beautiful external picture me?'' she asked with a heavy heart.

Turmoil in the palace and all over the kingdom. News spread like wildfire across the country that the princess had chose it herself, woe begone, to become an ugly, depressed monster, a freak of nature! And not just that but she liked more herself in this way and moreover she wished to be her old self again!

Combined efforts were made to make her change her mind. Her parents begged, cried, implored,  threatened, swore at her, locked her up, let her go hugry, knelt and prayed and used up every kind of trickery or manipulation in a vain effort to make her give in. Her fiancé came raging and humiliated her and accused her of being a psycho,of making a fool of himself, asked her to get a grip of herself and cut the crap, otherwise he would just take his leave; that he just couldn't get a hard-on for a crazy purple freak, besides he wouldn't wish for his children to be born fuchsia-colored and what the hell had she done to his good ol' smiling princess?

One day, when her parents told her curtly that the very next day she would be disowned if she did not change her mind, and her fiancé stated that he demanded back all the gifts he had given her -impossible to find ; half of them she had given away and the other half she did not even remember what she did with- otherwise he would take legal action and put her in prison until she paid him back, the purple princess ran away from the palace and began running as fast as she could, until her legs gave in and she fell down and wept bitterly and wished to die.

Then it was dark  and she had hardly any tears left so she accepted the fact than nobody really loved her for herself but that was ok ,fine, they could go fuck themselves, she wouldn't give a shit from now on and she would go see the world.

And thus began the wanderings of the purple ex princess, who sold apples and chestnuts to earn a living, her face hidden under loads of headscarves while at night, ah, at night she would do the only thing that reminded her of her old life in the palace: she'd climb up a hillside in the woods singing her heart out and the sound of her haunting voice echoing in the surrounding villages would spread unease among country folk who'd cross themselves and close shutters because hark! there she was again,  the purple enchanted creature of the woods.


As for the prince, you don't suppose the little conniving fairy of our story left him to his own devices, do you. One day while he was sitting on his own and contemplating that, fuck, life was great, but where is the princess of his dreams? Every time we thought he had found her, the whole thing went sour after a while, leaving him nauseous and uninterested and hungry again  ...


Now here comes the little fairy again.

-'' A penny for your thoughts, or rather how much will I get if I help you find her?''

-'' Fuck off, fairie, I have found her a hundred thousand times and I can find her as many more as I wish .''

-'' Your fate dictates that you two shall  never meet ... unless...unless you become two different people..''

-'' Unless you become two different people..'''' ...

Not that the prince believed in all that fairy nonsense, but because on that particular day he was bored and because he was too ingenious to pass on a chance for having a good time, he conceived a plan that sounded like fun.

He decided to become 'a different person' for a few hours, so he disguised himself as a peasant and went into town to see if he was convincing enough. Now that was loads of fun, not to mention the sense of freedom he experieced! Plus he made good use of his natural acting talent. And it was incredibly addictive. The next day he did the same thing, and so did the next and the one after that. He began to change roles because his restless mind could not stay too long in the same scenario. And so he tried all the possible scenarios that could be imagined.

He lived like a courtier, like mule driver, lame whore, like an old drunk or a sophisticated fag who smelled of  rosewater, a horsethief  and a misery taxcollector, and a wild coutry girl, an adviser to the Prince and Minister of Finance, theking's attache, a ex-convict,  a poor-as-dirt poet-bard, l a powerful emperor of the Indies, a poor old fart or a sinister monk.

He became an expert in disguise and role-playing, learned the secrets of makeup
 and elocution to be able to change manner of speech, voice and accent at will  and his vast collection of wigs and costumes would leave speechless anyone that might behold them.

Of course, there were always some roles that remained favorites, the ones he returned to with pleasure again and again because they resonated with parts of himself. Such as the role of the Knight in the Shining Armor who was incredibly popular with females and helped him to get laid to his heart's content and leave them with many happy memories.Or the role of the Preacher, which enabled him to gauge public opinion and to pass on his very radical ideas, to pass o faith and hope. And many other roles, in fact too many to mention here.

 He said to himself that he was a social worker that combined work and play. Many a times did he disperse his gold to the suffering,  heard the monologue of dying lonely souls, the crazy ravings of schychotic old maids nobody would talk to, not to  mention all those ulnoved ones whose beds he ket warm many a night adopting the role she'd feel the most comfortable with. He'd identify and evaluate what you needed to hear or do, the very next day, lo! behold, he was at your doorstep like a deus ex machina. But usually he would only appear in just one role per person, switching identities with the same individual was dangerous, if they were perceptive enough they'd realise that something was amiss.

When he felt too satiated to go on anymore and thought that he had seen and heard it all, and that from now on it would be just rerus of the same old shows ,life decided to serve him the ostracized purple princess. First he heard the voice and the nightly songs.  He identified the source of the voice, not difficult to locate for someone of his calibre and with his years of experience in hide and seek.

It was not the voice. Nor was it because of the purple mutations, the signs of her sufferig.Sure enough he had experienced his fair share of human pain during all his mad wanderings. Not even the signs of past beauty stirred his emotions, for he had seen ,tasted ande xperieced too much of it to be impressed. And nor, of course, was it because of her sad stories, which she was dying to tell him ayway, tell anyone,being a true female herself.

What did it for him was the spark of recognition.

The 'Alikeness' the Soul.

Which the little fairy had suspected of and which he could now see evidence in front of his very own eyes.

First he tried to make his acquaintance with her as the Knight in the Shining Armor.What the fuck, it was a tried and tested recipe. Didn't have much of a success though, she kicked him out eventually, knights reminded her of all the worthless assholes that would first flatter her then reject her, but at least that's how their story began. As a preacher he had somewhat better luck, but again the former princess held her ground. Masks scared her and reminded  her of all that was fake in her former life. So did games that smacked of hypocrisy and fakeness.

Meanwhile the prince with the thousant faces quickly outdid himself and broke his most basic principles for her sake : he began to return back to her time after time in many different guises: each disguise, each successful new role of his, ended up leading him to her side sooner or later. He said to himself that he was testing her, gauging her reactions, finding out about her preferences, likes and dislikes, the very fabric  which she was made of. But the truth of the matter was that through his many faces he would slowly but steadily reveal himself to her: each role of his would open a window into his soul for her.

The purple exprincess did not know if she should be angry or flattered with all this craziness.

On the one side her days were filled again with beauty and meaning as she was trying to guess what he would be up to next, how he'd appear to her and in what form: would it be the postman, the milkman, the lunatic of the village or her very own personal confessor? by instinct she could of course see through his disguises but it was fun trying to guess each time or even to incriminate innocent passersby, thinking it was him again. Not to metion how incredibly comfortable she felt in his presence, not having to hide her purple skin and her sick soul as she was accustomed of doing with other people, to avoid the merciless eyes of the curious who either pitied her or condemned her.

On the other side, how humiliating for her who had led him into the very sacred sanctuary of her soul not to be able to see his real face... wasn't it enough that she had suffered so much, she now had to be made a plaything of? How dare he? She knew  his real idetity, because the prince was dying to see her finding out herself, so she intuitevely did find out. But his true face she had never seen and that filled her with blind rage that would make her flee from him i amost predictable intervals. No use. He'd track her down and come back to her in one disguise or another.

The prince's own situation was not the best either. He began to spend more and more time by her side and most of his other roles and disguises no longer appealed to him. He wanted to stay with her night and day and whenever he could not help it and had to go in one of his escapedes he would drag her along because he needed her eyes constantly on him.

The princess:

-'' When will I see your true face;''

The Prince:

-'' Tomorrow''

But tomorrow came and the prince, remembering the words of their good fairy, knowing that only as two people differet to the ones they used to be they were meant to be together, would come back to her in yet another mask .... and a load of love and affection and tenderness ... that he was in  such a sore need to give as she was sorely in need to receive...

Now aunt Eirini's tales were  often leaft unfinished and her nieces ad nephews had to supply their ow edings to it.Same as now that I'll be askig you to provide your very own ending to this story.
Dont by shy!
Please be imaginative and bold and a child again and tell me your very own version of how the story should end. The one that will appeal to my soul the most will be posted here.

Nick the blogger did it again!what an awsome ending he wrote! The greek version of it is here

Of course, I had to translate it for you:

One night the princess could stand it no more ,she would rather lose him forever if ishe wasnever to really know him. The voice of her anger that nested within her and which she did not know she had in her grewso strong that wasfinaly voiced.She got up from his lap and took a few stepsaway from him. This time she did not look into his eyesShe staredat the moonwhich was nearly lost in the fog of the winter night.

"I want you to decide if you want to be with me, or with yourself."

"With you of course" he replied immediately. "can't you see that I have decided long ago?"

She wanted to look him in the eyes to respond. She knew, however, that if she did that her courage wouldfail her. For once, she had to be stronger than her addiction for him. She kept her eyes on the small piece of the moon that was left shining in theblack sky. She hoped to have time to speak before the last glow of the moon was lost in the great darkness.

"No, you have not decided that you want to be with me. You want to, but you have not reached a decision yet, "she said, and waited to see if the prince would be quick to deny. But he did not speak at all. Just listened.

The woman looked at him anxiously, as a tiny piece of the moon struggled to keep glowing against the darkness that swallowed it quickly.

"Tomorrow night I'll be waiting for you here. I want you to come. You. I do not expect to meet either your mind or your imagination. I am waiting to meet you. If I find you, then WE deserve to be together. If someone ELSEcomes back to me, I'll send him away and then leave this place. "

The prince did not respond. He did not give any sign of whether he agreed or not . His footsteps echoed on the hard ground. The last moonlight disappeared completely in the cold darkness. The footsteps sounded increasingly distant A few seconds later, he was lost in the night. The princess immediately closed her eyes, still gazing at the sky.She lay on the ground and slept.


The morning morning everything seemed too quiet. The birds werenot singing, the wind does not touch lightly upon leaves and twigs as usual and the birds did not chirp as usual She was in a state of calm yet agitated expectancy. Agitated  because ishe wasafraid of what the night would bring, but also calm because, in one way or another, the pain would end.

The evening arrived. The thick clouds of the sky hid the moonlight, a very weak moon that hardly made its presence felt. Everything seemed blurry eyed. It difficult to discern the leaves from the trees becauseof thethicknight fog.

She could not even gauge the passing of the time, whether it was time to meet her prince or not. But before she has lost her cool, she heard anoise from afar. Grass beig stepped on and heavy steps n  the ground. In vain did she try to follow the noise. Shee felt disoriented. Simply stood still in the hope that, if he was indeed the prince, he would find her.

And, indeed, a misty figure appeared be The breathing of the figure sounded familiar, but his body was covered from top to bottom in a black robe with a hood, as the monks. The princess watched and waited. If it was him, then it was his turn to speak.


''The figure dressed in black held out his hands.In his hands he was clutching a black cloth that was hiding something underneath it. 

 She could sense the fear of the figure. It was like the fear of a child trying to grow up.

She raised his hand to unveil the unknown object. Once her fingers touched the black cloth, the figure spoke, and she she kept her hand still.

"The person behind the disguises is not the true me."

The princess tried to distinguish a feature of the face, but what was not hidden by clothing was too dark for her to discern .

"Under the cloth I am  hiding my heart that was born out of my body since birth," he said, and although his voice was calm, fear was becoming more obvious to the ears of the Princess.

"If you want to see me as I really am, you will need to hold my heart in your hands and bring it close to my face."

The thought of it did not disgust he princess. A quick little smile crept on her face. Trully, the pain would end. The truth in his voice was most obvious. The prince was afraid to give his heart, thats why he was reluctant to ever show his real face. And he was afraid to show his real face, because that would mean giving his heart.

The woman smiled again, with the warmest smile that could be found in the world and with a few words took the fear out of it.

"I will  be watching and guarding your heart as a sacred body. You came tonight to meet me. I now come to offer you my heart. Even if you cannot  keep it in your hands. I love you. "

He pushed her fingers and lifted the cloth. A golden heart appeared, emitting light surrounding it. Without hesitation, she  took it in her hands and brought it close to his face.

The heart lit up his face nd happiness filled the woman. She grabbed him and kissed him happily with all her might. Just when she llet him take a breath, he tookher in her arms.

"I love you," he said, tears tremblig in his voice.
 "I promise to look after your heart more than my own. Thank you, "said the man.

The woman could now clearly see the landscape around her. Listening to the river water, the rustling of leaves and the voices of birds/ It was nighti,e, but all was now clear to her eyes and ears. Raindrops hit their faces. They started running as heavy rain started falling.

They spent several years hiding from the world, lost in their happiness, absorbed in each other. 

The little fairy who first arranged their meeting was present at the births of all their children and blessed them as she did with their parents. People called them "The purple Princess and the Prince with the100 faces '. The princess held the heart of her husband with her forever, hanging in a pouch with a chain around her neck. And every time he came close to her, his heart shed light to his face. And every time she saw his face, she loved him een more.

And at the end of their days, the  Princess and the  Prince squeezed firmly the golden heart and broke it in twoi. White glow enveloped them and took them from this world, sending them to heaven. Since then, the purple and gold star, are eternally rotating around each other,  sending us their heavenly light all over the world.