I thought I was clever.
I'd call myself The Wicked Stepmom and dispell the myth of the sterotypical evil second wife.
I would take away the power of this negative label by poking fun of the fairytale portrayals. By acknowledging the sometimes-not-so-fun aspects of being a stepmom.
I would shed light on the fact that it was not always bluebirds-and-roses-and-harpy-minstrel-music. And that that was OK.
I wonder if, in doing this, I have given myself too much permission to adopt the role of the Wicked Stepmom. Permission to allow mysef to feel and focus too much on the negatives.
In embracing this character have I not also become the very person I was trying to denounce.
My request for space hasn't produced the outcome I had hoped for.
My relationship with Cinderella is more strained than ever. Alienated.
She doesn't like you. She used to know that she could come to you for anything but now she avoids you.
My husband's observation only confirms what I've already known to be true.
It's time to rewrite this chapter of our story.