Cinderella

A Cinderella rewrite. Cinderella starts to see her value as a person, despite how she was raised to think her only value is her connection to a man.

I wish I could start this story with a happier occasion, but that wouldn’t be its real beginning. Still, I’ll introduce myself first. My name is Cinderella. I’m fourteen years old and I live with my parents in a nice house. I have black hair and brown eyes like my mother. 

This was not the first time I heard my parents fighting. But I had no hope that their marriage could be saved. My mother had already decided that she was leaving. 

“I still don’t understand what you want,” my father said, angrily. 

“I want my own identity.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’m just known as your wife. I’m leaving.” 

“What exactly did I do wrong?”
“I’m not blaming you,” Mother clarified.
“You want a divorce and you want to leave. Clearly, I’m the problem.”
“The problem is I don’t think a marriage is a good idea for me. I have to end this.” 

She went upstairs to pack her things. Before she left she came to my room.
“Hey, honey.”
She came to give me a hug.
“This will only take a while, “ Mother said. “I’m coming back. I’m not leaving you.”
“Where are you going?”
“I’m going to travel. I’m going to see the world. I need to not be married right now.”
“Why do you want to see the world?”
“I want to see what I can do in it?”
She took her suitcases and left. I didn’t know when she would come back.
I went into the sitting room to see my father. He was sitting in an armchair and he looked unhappy. I felt bad for him. I went to give him a hug. When I let go, I saw that he was smiling at me. He was still upset that his wife left. I was also unsettled that my mother left. But at least she said she’d be back. 

Their divorce was finalized a month later. 

My mother has complained about being just someone’s wife many times. I didn’t understand what was bothering her. She was married. Wasn’t that a great thing? Not to mention, she had a great husband. He never mistreated her or me. I didn’t know why she walked away from her marriage. She used to be happy. 

I spent a lot of time thinking about why my mother decided to get a divorce. I mean, when your mother leaves your father and even decides she wants to leave the country, that is something you’d want to think about. I wanted to understand why she left. 

My father was always telling me how I would get married when I’m older. He was telling me to take care of my looks and wear nice dresses to impress boys. He said getting married was an important thing for a woman to do and that he judged women who didn’t get married. I did as he said. 

He also said he judged my mother and I could see why. She walked out on her husband and now she was alone. I didn’t know if she would get married again. She was supposed to be my role model and she was telling me that it was okay to stay single. 

Two years later, my father fell in love again. I only met her a few times, but she didn’t seem to like me very much. She had two daughters who I haven’t met yet. Father wanted us to spend some time together and get used to each other before he got married, so he invited them over to lunch. The entire time they were here they wouldn’t talk to me. My father and their mother talked. My stepsisters talked to each other or the adults. I planned on seeing what I could do to fix that after my father got married. If I couldn’t, my life would be hard. 

They moved in with us after the wedding. My father went to work every day, while we stayed home. Like many other women, we had a whole house to take care of. We had to split the work between us. I just didn’t think we split it up fairly. 

“I couldn’t help but notice that I do more than you guys,” I told my stepmother a few weeks after the wedding. 

“That’s not true.” 

“If we all start working at the same time every day, how come it takes me two hours longer?” 

“What do you want me to say? We all have something to do. It needs to be done.” 

Usually, I had a whole floor to take care of all by myself. Everybody else took the second floor. I complained about that too. But my stepmother said I had to do this. I couldn’t exactly force her or my stepsisters to help me. I told my father and he spoke to her about it. She said things would change, but they didn’t. 

One day, when I was done I put the broom away and saw my stepmother sitting by the fireplace. She’d been done with her part for a while. When she saw me come into the room she just gave me a look and went back to her knitting. She seemed relieved that she was done. But she didn’t say anything to me. She wasn’t gloating about the fact that I had more to do. She never seemed to gloat. Still, she forced me to do more work than I should. 

I usually did all of the gardening myself. I liked to garden. I think my stepmother took advantage of the fact that I wouldn’t complain about doing that work, so she gave all of it to me. 

Still, it was difficult to clean that much every day. We stayed like this for a year. I had a whole floor to take care of by myself while the three of them took the second floor. My father seemed happy. He went to work while we took care of the house. As far as he was concerned, everything was the way it should be. My stepmother didn’t seem happy. She looked like she hated cleaning and she didn’t like it when her daughters cleaned either. Maybe that was why she made me clean more. 

“Are you okay?” I asked her once.
“Of course,” she said, sarcastically.
“What’s wrong?”
“How can I not be happy with all the work I have to do? How can I not be happy being somebody’s wife?”
She was saying the same thing my mother said. I still didn’t understand it. My stepsisters seemed happy. 

One day, we got a surprise visit. I heard knocking on the door. 

“Cinderella, go see who it is,” my stepmother said.
Of course it was my job. 

I put down the broom and went to open the door. My mother was standing right there. My brain froze when I saw her. Over the last three years, she has traveled a lot. She was never gone for two whole months at a time and she would stay in this city for at least four months and see me all the time. She always stayed in touch with me when she was away, but the surprise was still big. She smiled when she saw me. I threw myself in her arms. 

“I missed you, honey,” she said.
I couldn’t say anything.
I let go and stood back.
“How have you been?” she asked.
“Great. What did you do?”
“That’s a very long story,” she said. “If you want to come to my house, I’ll be happy to tell you.”
Mother’s house was on the other side of the city.
My other option was to stay here and clean more than I was supposed to. Even if they let me do my part later that was fine, but I didn’t want to do it now. I wanted a break. 

Besides, my mother just came back. I was not going to stay here. I wanted to go spend time with her. My mother is here! 

“Do you want me to come now?” I asked.
“That would be great. But you need to tell your father. Can I see him?” “Why?”
“I just think I should tell him I’m back. And I can’t just take you without telling him.”
“He’s not here, he’s at work.”
I told my stepmother I was leaving.
“You have a lot of work to do. You have to stay.”
“My mother is here. This is bigger than housework,” I said.
“You can’t neglect your responsibilities.”
“I’m not neglecting them. I will do them later. But I want to see my mother.” 

“You have to continue sweeping,” she said, getting angry. “You can’t leave.” 

“Yes, I can.”
I turned around and walked out the door. 

As my mother and I walked to her house, she asked me how I’ve been. “I’m great,” I said. “Still looking for a husband.”
“How long have you been looking?” she asked, looking alarmed.
 “Three years.” 

“You might never find one.”
“That would be horrible.”
“No, it wouldn’t.”
“But a woman has to get married.” 

“Why?” 

“Father said so. A woman is defined by whether or not she’s married.”
“He told you that? Well, he’s wrong. That’s why I left.”
“You weren’t happy.”
“I want you to see that a woman can be great without being married.”
I saw that my mother wasn’t defined by the fact that she was married. But she was single and she’d walked out on her marriage. My stepmother was defined as my father’s wife, just like my mother used to be. But my mother was defined for who she was. 

When my father found out that my mother had come back, he said it was okay that I’d left the housework to go see her. Of course, he did. That resulted in a fight between him and my stepmother. It seemed to me like she just wanted me to stay so I would clean. 

I spent the next few days at Mother’s house, hearing her stories. 

“Where did you go?” I asked. 

We were going for a walk.
“I saw a lot of places. I started with Italy.”
“That sounds so cool,” I said, my eyes bulging out of their sockets. 

“I tried their food. It’s so good. They make it a lot differently than I thought.” 

“What else?”
“I saw the tower of Pisa.” 

“Did you go to Paris?” 

“Of course. I saw the Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame...the city was beautiful. I even started learning French while I was there.” 

“You’re learning another language?” 

That was interesting.
“You know, I can teach you if you want.” 

“Yes, of course, I do.” 

The next day, I went to Mom’s house. She brought one of her bags and took out the presents she got me. There were a lot of souvenirs and items of clothing. She even had some stuff for my father. She showed me some of the things she bought for herself. Most of that stuff was from France. That was where she stayed the most. 

That night, I was writing down some French vocabulary when I heard my father yelling that dinner was ready. 

 

We heard an announcement about the prince looking for a wife. The royal family will hold three balls, so he could find someone. This sounded so exciting! I pictured myself in an elegant dress standing in the palace. I didn’t know if an opportunity like this would come again. We could be invited to parties again, but not something at the royal palace. 

I talked to my mother about it and she told me she wanted to find me the right clothes the next day. My father hoped I, or one of my stepsisters, would be the prince’s wife. 

The next day, I got dressed and ran to the door. My stepmother was sitting in an armchair and saw me. 

“Where are you going?” she asked.
“I’m going shopping with Mother for the ball.”
“Cinderella, you can’t go. There’s too much work to be done around the house,” my stepmother said.
What? She can’t be serious. 

“But I can’t miss this. It might not happen again,” I said. 

“It’s your job to clean up the house.”
“It’s your job too.”
“I’m your stepmother. I say what you’re going to do.” 

“My parents say I’m allowed to go.” 

“Who’s going to take care of the house?”
“We can skip three days. Nothing bad will happen.”
“It won’t be just three days. It will take longer than that to prepare ourselves for the ball. Especially, since it’s at the royal palace.” 

I turned around to leave.
“Cinderella, come back.”
“I’m going to the ball.” 

“You are staying here.”
“I want to go and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
I decided to spend the next day with Mother. I was still angry over what my stepmother said. I knew Mother wouldn’t agree. We went shopping to find the right dress and shoes. 

The day of the first ball came and I was so excited. We were going to the royal palace! I was going to see the royal family! When I got dressed I went to show my father. 

“How do I look?” I asked.
“You look great, honey.”
I went to look at myself in the mirror over the fireplace again.
“Someone seems excited,” my father commented.
“Father, it’s a royal ball. I never thought I would go to one of those. This is going to be fun.”
He smiled. 

“Yes, it will,” he agreed.
I was practically jumping when we got into the carriage to go to the ball. My father was sitting at the front and I sat inside with my stepmother and stepsisters. My stepsisters were talking non-stop about the ball. My stepmother seemed happy and kind of tense, but I didn’t know why. She tried to hide it. She kept looking at me like she wasn’t happy I was coming. Still, I was really excited to go. I tried to avoid her gaze and look out the window. 

Finally, we arrived. I got out of the carriage first and took a good look at the palace. It was beautiful. Obviously, it was the largest building I’ve ever seen. I couldn’t imagine how awesome it would be to live in a place that was so elegant and to be as rich as the royal family. When we reached the ballroom, I walked away from my stepmother. I didn’t want to have to deal with her disapproval all night. I went to see where my mother was. She didn’t arrive until half an hour later. For a while, we just stood there and talked. 

“Excuse me?” someone said behind me. 

I turned around. It was Prince Mason. 

“May I have this dance?”
“Yes, of course.” 

He held out his hand and I took it. 

We walked to the middle of the ballroom. I couldn’t believe this. I was dancing with the prince. I looked over his shoulder and saw that my mother was smiling. 

I smiled too.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing, I’m just happy.”
“What’s your name?”
“Cinderella.”
“Did you come here with your family?”
“Yes, my parents, stepmother and stepsisters.” 

“Sounds like a big family.” 

“It is.” 

I didn’t want to talk about them. The thought didn’t make me happy.
We talked about a ballet we both saw. But we didn’t go see it on the same night. He liked it and commented on how talented the dancers were. I agreed. I also told him I liked the music. We have both seen other ballets before it and we started talking about why we liked them. He told me about a new ballet that was coming. I thought that would be a lot of fun. He seemed to agree. 

I was thrilled that the prince wanted to talk to me. Then, I thought there was nothing wrong with me. I was interesting enough. Why should my happiness be determined by whether a man wanted to speak to me? 

That reminded me of what my mother said. I shook my head. It was not the same thing. 

When the dance ended, he let go of my hand. He was probably going to dance with another girl now. I walked back to my mother. I looked around and saw my stepmother talking to my stepsisters. She wanted them to go dance with the prince. I think they both got a turn with him later. 

The next day, I got into another argument with my stepmother. 

“You have to take care of the house,” she said.
“I want to go to the ball.”
“You already went once. Isn’t that enough?” 

“I don’t see why I can’t go three times.”
“I want you to stay home.”
“They get to go,” I said, pointing at my stepsisters.
“I’m their mother,” she said. “I think the ball would be good for them.”
I understood what she meant. She wanted one of them to marry the prince. We all knew he was going to choose someone, but to be realistic, I didn’t get my hopes up that it could be me. And what were the odds he would choose one of my stepsisters? 

The dress I wore that night was even more beautiful than the one from the night before.
I didn’t think Prince Mason would ask me to dance again. I mean, the fact that he asked me once was something I didn’t expect, but I was surprised when he came to me a second time. 

“You look beautiful,” he said.
“Thank you.”
This time we talked about the opera.
I remembered what I thought the night before. His approval meant a lot, but I didn’t like the idea that it was so important. I pictured what my life would be like if marriage was all that mattered. Or if it was all I accomplished. I wouldn’t have my identity just like Mother didn’t have one while she was married. Maybe the prince’s approval was the same thing as what my mother said about marriage. 

When the dance ended, one of my stepsisters came and curtsied to the prince. 

“May I have this dance, your Highness?”
“I’m sorry, but there are other ladies that I would like to share a dance with. I already danced with you yesterday.”
He turned and left.
About half an hour later, while I was getting something to eat, I didn’t realize that I was standing close to where my stepmother and stepsisters were.
“Go, try to dance with the prince again,” I heard my stepmother tell my stepsisters. 

“But he already said no to me.”
“You have to try again,” she said. “Be ladies, polite and make sure he notices how beautiful you are. When he’s done with this dance, you go ask him.” She turned to my other stepsister. “You can try again later.” 

“Or I can go now.” 

“No, wait for a while. If he gets frustrated with you asking him again so soon, he’ll turn you down.” 

On the third day, my stepmother gave my stepsisters beautiful dresses and made a lot of effort with their appearance. She gave them jewelry, helped them with their make-up and I heard her telling them what was the best way to talk to royalty. She really wanted one of them to marry the prince. 

At the ball, the prince asked me to dance again. This time, I was looking forward to it more than before. I got to know him better, so I thought I would enjoy talking to him. It wasn’t just because he was the prince like it was the first night. I wanted to see him. Tonight, he asked me a lot of questions. I didn’t know why. He seemed really curious to know as much about me as possible. He asked about my family, my childhood, what I did in my spare time and what I wanted to do with my life in the future. I asked him the same questions about himself and he seemed like he wanted me to know those things. 

I didn’t want a man to make me feel like I was worth something. I used to think that Mother was wrong for leaving Father, but if she felt like she didn’t have an identity in the marriage, maybe she was right to leave. I finally understood how she felt. I saw marriage differently now. 

Mother had traveled and made an identity for herself without having a husband. Nobody saw her as a man’s wife. She was simply herself. When I compared both, I realized that my mother being known for herself was better. She was independent with an identity of her own. She used to be just somebody’s wife. Now, people knew who she was. Some people disapproved of the fact that she had left my father. Others were supportive. But either way, she wasn’t simply his wife anymore. 

I finally saw what she meant and I agreed. I didn’t want to be just a wife anymore. I wanted to have my own identity. 

On the ride home, I was a little upset that the balls were over. But I told myself that there would be other celebrations in the future. I wasn’t really in the mood to do anything when we got home, so I just went to bed. 

The balls were a lot of fun and I was really glad I had the opportunity to go. But now they were over. The excitement was still there and people were still talking about them. Everywhere I went, there were still people saying what they did or how they loved going to the royal palace. It was a big deal, so the excitement will stay for a while. But eventually, it will go away. As for my family, we got back to our usual lives. There was a lot of cleaning to do. 

After the balls, I decided to ask my father something.
“How do you see me?” I asked.
“What do you mean?”
“You told Mother that she is defined by you.”
“Honey, I love you just the way you are,” he started. That was something, at least. “But when you’re older, it would probably be best for you to get married.” 

“Because I’ll never be anything without a man?” 

“I meant, because you’ll have a better life.”
He thought I needed to get married. I would prove to him that he was wrong. 

It has been a week and I was starting to forget the balls. There was knocking on the door and my stepmother told me to go answer it. When I saw that it was Prince Mason and two of his guards, I was surprised. 

We welcomed the prince and his guards into the house. He was very polite when he greeted us all. His guards stood by the door. Clearly, they were not going to be involved in this. 

Prince Mason walked over to me and took my hand. My father and stepmother were paying close attention. 

“I have had a lot of fun dancing with you,” the prince said.
“So did I,” I told him. 

I thought I should say something.
“I was thinking, if you’re interested, that we could spend more time together,” Prince Mason suggested.

“Are you asking her to be your wife?” my father asked.
My heart started pounding. On the one hand, I liked the prince. On the other, I didn’t know him that well.
“No, I’m just asking if she would like to spend time with me, so we could get to know each other. I’m not discussing marriage yet.” He turned to me. “What do you say?” 

“Are you sure, your Highness?” my stepmother asked. “You have met her stepsisters. Why don’t you want to spend time with them?” 

“I have decided to get to know this young lady.”
“Maybe you could date them too,” my stepmother insisted. "It’s possible you could like one of them.” 

“With all due respect, I have made my decision.” Prince Mason turned to me again. “You don’t have to decide right now. If you want, you can take some time to think.”
Now, I understood why he was asking me so many questions during the final ball. He wanted to know as much as he could, so he could decide if he wanted to date me. He also made sure that I knew a lot about him. 

“If it’s all right, I would like some time to think,” I said.
I remembered the ballet he told me about and he suggested we go see it together. The prince and his guards left. Father came to me and looked angry.
“Why didn’t you just say yes?” he asked. 

“Because I needed to think.”
“What’s to think about? He’s the prince. You can’t do better than that.”
“I need to know if I want to be with him.”
“He’s the prince. If he decides to marry you, that would be great.”
“What if I don’t get married, Father?”
“You don’t want to get married?”
“I meant, what if I decide not to marry the prince?”
“Why would you do that? You’d be married. And you’d be the princess.”
“My value is not decided by whether or not I’m married,” I exploded. I don’t think I’ve ever been this angry with Father. “That’s why Mother left.”
“Your mother left because she was unhappy.”
“She was unhappy because she didn’t have an identity beyond being your wife.” 

“And you want an identity beyond being somebody’s wife.” 

“Yes.” 

After the prince and his guards left, I went to see my mother. She smiled when she opened the door and saw me. 

“Hey, do you want to come in?” she asked.
“Yes, this will take a while.”
“What do you mean?”
I walked in and she closed the door. We went into the sitting room.
“The prince was at the house right now. He asked if I wanted to date him.” It was strange that my house was not my mother’s. But it belonged to my stepmother and stepsisters.
“The prince wants to date you?” Mother asked.
“Yes.”
“What do you want?”
“Well, I’m still thinking about it. I like him.”
“That’s a start.”
“Besides, when I talked to him, it seemed like we have a lot in common.” “You’ve only talked to him three times.” 

“I know. That’s why he suggested we start dating. We’re not ready for marriage.” 

“Can I give you some advice?”
“That’s one of the reasons I’m here.”
“Don’t let your marriage be your whole life.” 

“We’re not getting married.” 

“I meant, if you do get married. That’s why he wants to date you. To see if you’re going to get married.” 

I spent a few days thinking about what I would say to the prince. I liked him and I would like to get to know him better. And everything I said to my mother was true. 

Over the next few days, things got worse between me and my stepmother. We had a huge fight. 

“I’m so tired of being unappreciated,” she said. 

“Who doesn’t appreciate you?” I asked, confused. 

“You and your father,” she yelled.
“We appreciate you.” 

“No, your father thinks my job is to clean the house. He doesn’t think I have my own identity.” 

She was right.
“That doesn’t mean he doesn’t appreciate you. He loves you.”
“But he makes me clean up. Now, I’ll never escape that life.”
“Why do you want to escape your life?” I asked, getting angry.
“Because neither you nor your father appreciates me.”
“Is that why you make me clean more? So you and your daughters can enjoy your life more?” I was furious now. 

“No.” 

“I think you do.”
“I’m your stepmother. I tell you what to do.” 

I decided to move in with my mother. 

“Cinderella, you can’t leave,” Father said. 

“Yes, I can.” 

“I don’t want you to leave,” he said, looking desperate. 

I went upstairs and packed my suitcase. My father came into my room and tried to stop me. I told him that I was leaving. 

A few days later, I said yes to the prince and we started dating. I told my father and he seemed impressed. Although, he’d been impressed with me for a while. 

“Why are you so happy about this?” I asked.
“I’m just impressed with you, that’s all.”
“You’re impressed with a woman?”
“I didn’t like that you’re always fighting with your stepmother, but it shows how strong you are. You were determined to go to the ball and you went. You didn’t let her stop you from spending time with your mother.” 

“So, are you happy?” I asked, confused. 

“Yes, I’ve also thought about what you said to me about marriage. And your mother has an identity of her own. Maybe you were right.” 

“About what?”
“That your value is not decided by whether or not you’re married.”
“I still might marry the prince.”
“Well, I hope you’ll be happy. But don’t do it because you think you’ll be nothing without a husband.” 

My mother was thrilled when she found out that I was dating the prince. We had a talk similar to the one I’d had with my father, but she was happy. 

“I think the prince would make an excellent husband for you,” she said. 

I was really happy to be dating the prince. I was happy that I found someone. I no longer felt like I had to find somebody or that I would be judged if I didn’t find somebody, but it was still a nice thing. It was nice to think that I might have that kind of love. I was really looking forward to it. And it was the prince. 

I no longer judged my mother for being divorced. She’d traveled, she was learning a new language and she raised me, those accomplishments should be enough. 

The prince and I started dating and liked each other more when we got to know each other. We had fun together and saw a lot of ballets and operas together. Prince Mason and I were married two years later.