"I have read somewhere that women long to be rescued. If true, I suppose that might be because we sometimes need rescuing. When I was three, for example, I got my hair caught in a climbing frame and had to wait in the drizzle until my brother alerted my parents. When I was ten or so, I got stuck on the side of a scrubby cliff overlooking a golf course and was rescued by a golfer. And when I was thirty-three and quite literally out of my mind in terror of a (probably) sociopathic boyfriend, I was rescued by my spiritual director. At least, that's how it felt at the time. (I hid in his office and sent a passer-by out for a sandwich.) But that is about it. I have grown used to rescuing myself, and that is probably a good thing."
— Seraphic Single, from her blog entry "No Rescue"