Our across the street neighbor’s little two-year old girl is nuts for Cinderella. We had Christmas dinner with them and Rebekah was simply ecstatic over the “LaLa” (her word for Cinderella or similar characters) that Santa had brought her.
Her enthusiasm reminded me that of all the Disney Princesses, Cinderella always ranked as my favorite too. (At least when I was small. I’d have to say Belle’s probably bumped her way to the number one spot now.)
But hands down Cinderella was the one who started it all.
Like many little girls, my first notions of love at first sight and happily ever after endings were perpetuated by Cinderella.
I had the movie Cinderella in my Netflix queue, but I ended up breaking down and buying the First Time on DVD Limited Edition movie thanks to Rebekah. I figured it had meant so much to me as a child, too, that I really did want it for my movie collection.
So the other day I watched it for the first time in I don’t know how long. It has to be two decades minimum.
Watching the movie with my adult eyes, compared to the naive and innocent eyes of the child I once was, sure was…well, eye opening.
Poor Cinderella was suffering from something so many women do: lack of a father figure. I had forgotten it wasn’t really the prince she was exited to meet like her stepsisters were. She just wanted to go to the ball.
But then she gets there and here he comes. The rest of the night she has his undivided attention.
There was also a rescue theme. He rescued her from her life of drudgery and abuse.
But was it really him she was excited to be with? Or was she more excited to thumb her nose at her mean stepmother and stepsisters? Here was a chance to get away from them via this glass slipper and boy howdy was she going to take it!
Okay, so it did seem for the one night she spent talking, dancing, and laughing, with the prince she had fun. But as she drove off in the carriage and the words “And they lived happily ever after” came on screen, I was surprised to find myself wondering, “But did they really? Did she find out he wasn’t all that once she went to live with him? Did she ever long for her attic bedroom with her mice and bird friends waking her up in the mornings? Did she ever regret jumping at the first prince that came along?”
I know I never questioned such a thing way back when. I believed with unfailing certainty that they did live Happily Ever After. I believed they lived a perfect happy life and found everlasting true love. Even though I couldn’t have given you specifics on what comprised such a thing.
Maybe they did. Or maybe she realized what I have. True love exists, but it doesn’t equal perfect love, and realizing that is the route to Happily Ever After.
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