I just spent two days pouring over different versions of Cinderella for a Children’s Literature paper. It is a classic tale, and as girls we are all indoctrinated. If we play nice, whistle while we work (is that Snow White) and look pretty, our prince will come and take us as his bride so that we can live happily ever after. I hate to admit that there is a little Cinderella in me. The feminist in me knows that I can rescue myself, I am going to school, raising a teenager, and almost keeping up with the bills. But someplace, deep inside I want to be rescued. Cinderella is not the only one residing in my subconscious. Meet the wicked step sister. She is the part that wants me to fail, that feels that I should work twice as hard to live. She is the part that kicks my ass, that tells me it is time to quit, and that I cannot rescue myself. Yesterday the wicked sister took over. She did kick my ass, and I did almost quit school. Because in reality, I do not know how to rescue myself. I do not know how to juggle school and living. I do not know how to pay my bills while taking on a full time school schedule which leaves no time for working. There has to be another sister residing in my pea brain. Where is sister number 3? She is the sister that is balanced, that can accept help from her prince or princess, but also get things done on her own. She is the sister that knows she creates her own happiness, that joy is not something that happens to her, but happens because of her. I don’t know where she is, I sure would like to find her. So for now I think that I need to accept that little Cindy in me, as well as the cruel sister. Maybe in accepting what I already possess I will make room for other possibilities. Maybe sister 3 has been there all along. Maybe she is the one that kept me from quitting school when I realized that I only had a month’s worth of money left. Maybe she is the one that reminded me that I had a mid semester evaluation to do. Maybe…
● About Me

I wrote and published my first blog post on May 26, 2009. I was about to turn 36 and had been accepted to Mount Holyoke College as a non-traditional student, on my way to completing a Bachelor of Arts in English with a minor in Medieval Studies. I had managed, finally, to know what general direction I was traveling. As a self proclaimed voracious reader I knew that I needed a vocation that would allow me to engage daily with words: reading words, writing words, and hearing words. I also needed to eat, so I navigated my way to a teaching position and I began to fine tune my craft. I love to teach and I love my students, but I also needed to continue to hone my own literary technique, voice, and style. I continued my education in order to delve deeper into literature, making connections, and most definitely, writing. I gained more confidence as a reader as well as a writer of both creative and analytical text. That first blog post in 2009 is short, the writing average, and the topic mundane, but as I continued to learn from other writers I began to understand that to become a better writer I needed to write more. Each time I write and release a poem, a post, or a story, I hone my skills. I invite you along for the ride, for this journey of mine as I attempt to wrangle a wealth of ideas and competing directions into an organized freshly paved path to publication. I might get distracted along the way, but sometimes those detours lead us to amazing views and new friends.



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