Women often postpone their lives, thinking that if they're not

“Women often postpone their lives, thinking that if they’re not with a partner then it doesn’t really count. They’re still searching for their prince, in a way. And as much as we don’t discuss that, because it’s too embarrassing and too sad, I think it really does exist.” — so spoke Jane Campion, and her words ring with the sorrow of hidden truths. In them we hear both lament and revelation: that too often, human beings delay the fullness of life while waiting for another to complete them, measuring their worth not by their own being, but by the presence of another at their side.

The woman, in Campion’s words, stands as symbol of all who believe their destiny must be tethered to another before it has value. The postponing of life is a silent tragedy—dreams deferred, talents restrained, passions set aside, all because of the belief that existence must be validated by union. Yet time, relentless in its passing, does not wait for the arrival of the prince. It marches on, leaving many to awaken too late, realizing they have spent their strength waiting instead of living.

The ancients themselves spoke of such illusions. Consider Penelope, wife of Odysseus, who for twenty years waited for her husband’s return from Troy. She became the emblem of loyalty, weaving and unweaving her loom. Yet though her devotion is honored, one must ask: what of her own life in those years? Did the bards who sang her story not also conceal the quiet sorrow of a woman whose world was measured only by the presence or absence of her partner? Her tale, heroic on the surface, reveals also the cost of postponing life for another.

Campion dares to name what many hide: that society often conditions women—and by extension, all people—to believe life without romance is incomplete, and that to speak of this longing is somehow embarrassing. Yet she insists on truth: the longing exists, and it shapes choices in silence. To deny it is to bury it, and buried truths often grow heavier with time. By bringing it into the open, she calls us to examine the quiet chains that bind us.

This reflection also warns of a deeper danger: that in seeking the prince, one may overlook the kingdom within. The quest for completion outside blinds the seeker to the wholeness already present inside. The sadness of waiting is not only in the years lost, but in the failure to discover the power, the wisdom, and the light that could have been cultivated in solitude. True union, if it is to come, should meet strength with strength, not dependency with rescue.

The lesson is clear: never postpone your life while waiting for another. Live fully in the present. Do not diminish your own journey because you believe it must be validated by the presence of a partner. Love may come, and when it does, let it find you already alive, already complete, already radiant with purpose. To wait idly is to lose both time and self; to live fully is to meet destiny on your own feet.

Practical action follows: embrace the paths that call to you now. Travel, learn, create, build, and love in ways that do not depend on romance alone. If longing for a prince lives within you, acknowledge it, but do not let it master you. Cultivate friendships, community, and self-discovery. Write your own story with your own hand, so that when another enters, they join a life already in motion, not one waiting in pause.

Thus Jane Campion’s words endure as both warning and encouragement: the sad truth of postponed lives is real, but it need not continue. We honor ourselves and those who come after by refusing to wait for permission to live. The fullness of life is not bestowed by another—it is seized by courage, embraced by will, and carried forward by the soul that dares to shine even without its prince.