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Even Goddess Aphrodite promised her to Paris. It’s not like Helen was parading around trying to seduce the Trojan prince. There are still debates about whether he abducted her or she went with him willingly, not that it matters on the grand scale of things.
The result is what started one of the most legendary wars.
But let’s go with the second theory for a second and say she chose Paris herself.
Most of society sees it as selfish, disloyal, and cruel since the war killed so many people (I believe people blamed Helen for all this too and never Paris).
But I wonder…
What kind of bravery must one have to finally choose themselves? To fight for a love no one understands or accepts.
The tragedy of their love story is not the fact that it started a war.
The tragedy of their love story is the fact that it was constantly invalidated by everyone (still is years later).
I don’t see Helen as selfish for loving Paris.
I see her as someone who fell in love and got punished for it, painted as a villain in a story where men decided her fate and announced wars left and right.
She was an outlet for everyone’s rage and took it because she deserved it, right?
You know why your parents named you after her?
Helen was a survivor; no matter what life threw her way…she survived.
Strength is not always about fighting back. Strength is sometimes about getting up after being knocked down or still holding on to something, even if everyone judges you for it.
There is a reason your mom sees Santiago as Achilles and you as Helen.
After the grief she’s experienced, she wants her children to be strong and brave so you can withstand everything.
We don’t live in a myth, and it means very little, but since it bothers you, think about that.
As for your other question about love…
Love is a beautiful emotion, princess, and I hope you will experience it one day.
However, it’s not for me.
Because love is a weapon that can and will be used against you, and I refuse to give anyone such power over me.
Everything has a price.
Living in the darkness as well.
Jimena
“This is such a terrible idea,” I mutter under my breath when the cabbie driver parks the car in front of my brother’s club, and Luna rolls her eyes, pulling at her short dress. She quickly changed into it once we sneaked away from the party and ordered us a cab in secret, running away from the back door.
When I questioned her why we were acting like fifteen-year-olds who went behind their parents’ backs somewhere, she just shrugged and laughed, claiming it was more fun this way.
I disagree because even a twenty-minute drive here didn’t calm my nerves or what I’m about to do.
There aren’t many things my brother forbids me from doing. Okay, well, that’s a lie. He forbids me plenty, but usually, it has to do with my safety or protection. He’s all about us exploring our wilder sides and doing whatever we want, and he doesn’t appreciate anyone, our parents included, to limit my freedom because, according to him, if I don’t find the freedom at home, I will seek it elsewhere.
My brother, everyone, a psychologist in disguise.
However, one place was off-limits for me, and he has been firm on that from the beginning.
