My Cinderella

Inspired by a story from a friend of mine, here it goes mine.

When I was a little girl, Cinderella is one of my favorite fairy tales. Cinderella is a beautiful girl who has a miserable life caused by her stepmother and stepsisters. But at the end of story, she finds a handsome prince who marries her and takes her into a better life. At those times, I only know two kinds of feeling, love and hate. So I hate her stepmother and stepsisters and of course I love the prince.

It never crossed in my mind that my life will follow her path. It’s not like I’m having a miserable life, no. But somehow, I’m having a stepmother and stepsister. It was about four years ago since my dad decided to marry a woman who has a daughter from her past marriage. I won’t make this into a drama story with lot of sadness and end with happiness; well I’m just trying to share my feelings about having them in my life.

Living with a woman who has a very different character with my mother is not easy at all. Plus, I never have a sister in my life, never. I am my parent’s only daughter with the one and only brother. So, having another girl in the house is kinda weird.

Generally, my stepmother tries to act like all mothers and so far she does it well, not too much. And it helps me to accept her presence in the house where I still see my mother’s shadows everywhere. Sometimes she put herself as a stepmother and sometimes as my father’s wife. No, those roles are never being the same. As for me, she makes it so far.

Having a little stepsister is a cute simple thing, for most of time. Suddenly I become a role model; my appearance, my achievement, my attitude, my hobbies, most of the thing I do, she’ll follow. How cool! But, you never can predict what a teenager can do. Note that! I never imagine that forget to lock my wardrobe or even my room can be so damn irritating. How could it be? It could, just when I realize that my things aren’t in the place they suppose to. Some are moving, and some are just gone. Now you know what I mean?

Never have this kind of situation making me a little bit confuse to react. Instead of asking to all people about my stuff, I’m sneaking to my stepsister’s room and as predicted, I found them. Not that easy to find, they are hidden in a secure place. And what’s next, I ask myself. I don’t want to make my stepsister as an enemy, so I avoid facing her directly. I come to my stepmother in order to have an objective judge. But I forget something, some big thing; that a mother always loves her daughter more than anyone else. No, it’s not a subjective opinion; it’s just what exactly happens.

So, there am I; in my room, without my stuff. Where are they? I left them in where they’re hidden. I didn’t take them since I was too shock to face the reality, where honesty is no longer exist in my house, in the house where I raised with it. I think it has gone with my mother.

Since that day, having a stepmother and stepsister is not cool at all, at all. I don’t hate them, since I have thousand kinds of emotional reaction in my heart now. It’s no longer love and hate, those two are never sufficient to interpret all life’s messages. They don’t treat me like a Cinderella, never, lucky me. But one thing, somehow they just act like her stepmother and sisters. They’re putting away honesty out of the house.

Remembering that, I miss my mother’s presence a lot. Wish she’s doing her life very well now, with her honesty lesson that she’ll bring anywhere she is.

Photo