Chapter 1

At eight years old, my version of Cinderella died. My eyes were tainted and the princess story of what I would one day become could no longer serve my innocent fascination with her fantasy. This was because I soon discovered that there was no one coming to save me.

The story of Cinderella was one of my favorite childhood stories. I recognized that it didn’t have a perfect beginning like my childhood, but what it had was a miraculous and encouraging ending. I used it to escape to a place that offered promises of love, beauty, recovery, and happiness. This story was a vehicle in which I was transported to a time where I was the princess with a pink pretty frilly dress that was fitted around my waist, flared out, hanging down to my ankles with a pair of glass slippers on my feet and a beautiful diamond studded tiara on my head. I took flight to an imaginary haven where magical creatures and beings would make all the ugly things disappear. It was my reset wish; the place that made me over and better. 

Her story became my story as I inserted my life into her fantasy world and pretended that I too would discover the fairytale ending that I longed for. Cinderella gave me something to aspire to as it stirred up my imagination, and I pictured myself being rescued by my prince charming. Cinderella’s story gave me hope. My hope in Cinderella was that her fairy tale could become my real life.

Interestingly enough, the prince charming that I was looking for wasn’t necessarily a guy, I was hoping for a savior. I was looking for someone to save me from the heartache, disappointment and intense fear I had to face. I lived vicariously through Cinderella and imagined myself as a princess preparing for the ball of the century. It was what I thought would carry me through the difficult time I had coping with what happened to me.  I was wrong.

Personal reflections of my process to wholeness from a fixation on a fairytale princess through abuse and discovering my identity through the voice of the biblical princess, Tamar. It’s an eye opening book and is necessary for women, young girls, those who work with children, women whose inner girl needs healing and the parents raising a princess.

My Mission

BMB empowers women to embrace their unique beauty, honor the power of their voice and own their worth.

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