As I stepped into my new life, and before I could carve a place for myself in my new home, I was damned and labelled as the "cruel one". Even though I wanted to flee from my existing situation, it was beyond me and I had to come to terms with taking care of a baby who was not really my own. And the moment I found myself telling the little girl something, I was met with reproaching eyes. Every time, I looked at Cinderalla she reminded me of my place in my husband's life as the second one.
I always saw fear in her eyes, a fear that society unjustly placed. She was always withdrawn around me.
My girls and her constantly bickered and while I was still trying to figure out my place here, came the news of my husbands death- Cinderella's biological father and my second husband.
No one really understands the struggle of raising two young girls alone and then fate throws another one at you, and mind you, this one is the toughest bit. They also expect you to hate her with all your heart, even though what you need most at that moment is not to have fire burning within you, but someone who can make you good coffee and provide words of support.
Someone who can tend to the girls and give you some much needed peace -A long shower or a tour around the new city.
The problem wasn't Cinderella, rather some undue demands and preconceived notions, stamped upon by society that were gnawing at my insides and making me hollow.
Cinderella always chose to remain in her world of dreams, but after having faced so much trauma in my life, I was so done with notions of 'dreaming your life away'.
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