Cinderella’s post wedding dilemma

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Dear Diary,

Sometimes t’s really hard being married to Prince Charming. I think it was easier to live in the attic with the mice, the three blind ones… Is this what it’s like being rich? You’d think they’d enjoy it more, but they are so uptight about it that they don’t want ME to enjoy the pleasures of it. They may have charity for the poor, but they have no empathy for them. I try to tell them what it’s like, and they simply can not understand and hate me for understanding. The people love me because I understand them. The nobility hate me for the same reason.

I do think it was easier being poor. There were fewer choices, which meant there were fewer complications. Pleasures were in simple, beautiful, completely cost free things like friends. People said what they meant and laughed at themselves and their situations. They, maybe we if I admit I still think that way, have brutal, honest humor.  But the poor do not think being rich is ‘hard,’ and it’s hard to explain how it can be.

The title is neat: Princess! But it just means “management.”  Ladies in Waiting to train, pageboys, counselors, cooks, servants, this list goes on and on. The disturbing part is realizing people’s lives, entire families, depend on you doing well and managing well. The wealthy see the storms coming and worry.

Another thing that strikes me as odd is that they, the rich, have to be much more careful with their words. They don’t laugh as much as you’d think they should feel free to. Money is very strange that way. They do not say what they mean, and that turns out to make your life much more complicated.

Now that I am a princess, I don’t fit in with either group, but I am trying to build a bridge between the two. Believe it or not, there are prejudices on BOTH sides. Everyone hates when I say that, even Charming, who wishes I would just let things be.

How can I let things be? That’s not who I am. I am a gentleman’s daughter, raised as a servant who married a prince. That’s who I am.

I will be true to who I am. I am not ashamed of it. I am the Princess who understands the servants and the ladies in waiting. If I understand those two groups, surely everyone else can understand if they try. I don’t think I’m somehow smarter than a nobleman educated at university, and I don’t think I’m less wise than a chimney sweep, so if I can understand these things, surely the two groups can too.

Until tomorrow, diary.
Cinderella