Wattpad and Disney Ruined Me

Had me wishing on a shooting star

I used to think love was magic.

That it lived in the spaces between fairytales and fate, that it was written in the stars, waiting for the right moment to align.

I was the girl who wished on stars. Who whispered prayers into the night, hoping the universe was listening. I believed—deep in my bones—that love was something destined. That somewhere, across time and space, there was a thread tying me to someone, pulling us closer, waiting for the moment our worlds would finally collide.

I blame Disney for that.

For making me believe in storybook love. The kind where the universe bends to make things right. Where love is golden sunsets and whispered confessions, where it’s enough to close your eyes, make a wish, and suddenly, everything falls into place.

Disney made me believe in true love’s kiss. That one touch of lips could rewrite fate, that love could break curses, turn pumpkins into carriages, and beggars into princes. That when it was real, I would just know. That love was a moment—a single, life-changing, world-shifting moment—and once it happened, everything would be perfect.

And then Wattpad came along and made it worse.

Because suddenly, love wasn’t just magic alone. It was madness. It was angst and longing, it was billionaires buying entire companies just to prove their devotion. It was fate wrapped in obsession, intensity disguised as passion. It was the kind of love that burned—too bright, too fast, too much.

It was the grand gesture, the dramatic confession in the rain, the undeniable pull of souls recognizing each other across a crowded room. It was all-consuming, heart-wrenching, impossible-to-ignore love.

So I waited.

Waited for the earth-shattering moment. For the impossible grand gesture, for the kind of love that made time stop. I waited for the sign, the spark, the feeling of my heart being rewritten in real-time.

And then… he came along.

But it wasn’t like the stories.

There was no slow-motion entrance, no universe conspiring to bring us together in a dramatic twist of fate. No thunder crashing in the background, no whispered destiny tying us together in an undeniable bond.

And yet, somehow…

I just knew.

Everything felt peaceful and he saw me.

Not just the parts I wanted to show, but the messy parts, the ones I tried to keep hidden. The overthinking, the restlessness, the walls I’d built around myself.

And instead of pulling away… he stayed.

Love isn’t just found in the stars. Sometimes, it’s in the way he looks at me—like I exist alone in the world, like I am something to be admired. Like every part of me—every flaw, every scar, every wild, untamed thought—is something precious.

It’s in the way his eyes soften when he sees me. The way he watches me like he’s memorizing every detail, like he wants to engrave me into his soul.

It’s in the way he listens. Truly listens. Like my thoughts are something worth keeping, like my words are the most important sound in the world.

It’s in the way he holds me—gentle, but firm. Like he’s afraid to let go, but he knows I am not something to be owned.

Love is him.

It’s in the quiet moments—the ones that don’t feel like much, but mean everything. The way his voice transcends into my soul, the way I'm comfortable in our silence, the way he makes me feel safe just by being near.

It’s in the way his voice makes everything feel lighter, in the way his laughter tugs at something deep in my chest. It’s in the way his absence feels like missing air, the way his presence feels like home.

Love isn’t just magic. It’s grounding.

It’s more than just fate—it’s choice.

Because he chooses me. Every day. In every moment. In the little things—the way he remembers what makes me anxious, the way he knows exactly how to calm me down, the way he makes space for me in his world without ever making me feel like a burden.

And maybe true love’s kiss is real.

It changes everything in an instant, but because it’s the culmination of every moment before it—the late-night talks, the stolen glances, the quiet understanding that says, I see you, I choose you, I love you.

Maybe Disney and Wattpad weren’t entirely wrong.

Maybe love is something bigger than us, something written. But it’s also something felt. Not just in grand moments, but in the ones we never think to romanticize.

It’s in the way he adores me.

The way he looks at me like I’m the only person in the world. The way he accepts every part of me, the way he pushes me to grow but never makes me feel like I have to change to be worthy.

It’s in the way he makes me feel like I belong.

And if that’s true…

Then I think, for the first time, I’m not just wishing

on a star.

I’m standing beneath one, living the love I always believed in.