Cinderella Has Cellulite by Donna Arp Weitzman Read Free Book Online Page B

Charming’s Ram now barrels in to the nearest Dairy Queen on date night and He says, “Well, what are you waiting for? Jump out!”
    What does a girl do when she’s stressed and having a bad day? She goes shopping! Ah, the mere mention of the rustling tissue paper enveloping a tulle frock can send your happiness meter soaring and salvage your long-awaited nirvana. You breeze into the nearest Macy’s, hoping to clothe yourself in a newly purchased layer of chiffon, which resembles the icing on a celebration cake. After all, spring is right around the corner.
    Alas, the size 6 that you made sure zipped off easily during your courtship has somehow shrunk! Those darn designers, do they all use Victoria Beckham for their muse? you wonder. Resigned to the fact that Cinderella cannot be seen in a size 12 (even if it feels so comfy), you must then decide shoes are the real anecdote for anxiety. Even Victoria couldn’t get by on a size zero at the Nordstroms shoe rack , you assure yourself.
    Is that rippling of your thighs from the body blows you took during the courtship?
    Taking the elevator to the ground floor, you eye the latest Jimmy Choo stilettos. Surely when He sees you strutting in these babies, He will trade in the Ram for the Jag you’ve been wanting. You pick out a few pairs, averting your eyes from the prices marked. New shoes may be the answer, but you have serious questions as you try to pry your newly formed, webbed tennis toes into the sharp points. Have Cinderella’s toes grown longer, or has the conspiracy of toppling her dynasty spread to Nordstrom corporate?
    By now your feet are killing you and you’re thinking maybe Spanx can solve your issues. When He sees you looking svelte in your non-forgiving size 10 and your swollen ankles swaying under the weight of your expanded torso, He will once again be blinded by the old you, right? Riiiiight. As you struggle breathlessly from fighting the body armor, you glance in the mirror and are suddenly seized with terror. Is that rippling of your thighs from the body blows you took during the courtship? Or, God forbid, does Cinderella have that much cellulite?

· EPILOGUE ·
    SILVER LININGS

    Some of my musings are from personal experience. Others were shared by acquaintances. But in the end, life is a journey for all of us that holds some highs, some lows, and lots of mundane times. I know the horror of cancer. Others I know have experienced the desperation of drug abuse or an unexpected death. However, one thing we all have in common is that time moves forward if life continues.
    My first 60 years were filled with drama, exhilaration and regret. It appears my journey for the next 30 years will be lived in a lovely silver lining of excitement, peace and tranquility. I am immensely grateful to my husband, Herb Weitzman, for providing my beautiful silver lining.
    Our marriage added Herb’s lovely daughters and their precious girls to my immediate family. It also blessed me with a cadre of interesting extended family members. Unfortunately, emotional growth isn’t automatic, and I was wrong to expect instant acceptance from my new family members. At times, I have been unfair and quick to judge their motives and behaviors. Fortunately, my training as a counselor forced me to remember the value of patience, admit my mistakes, and continue my search for balanced, rational behavior. My efforts are paying off. I’m becoming the woman I want to be, and I know Herb’s commitment to me, our love, and our marriage is an essential part of my journey.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

    Donna Arp Weitzman is a wife, mother, and businesswoman who enjoys writing and a good pair of Manolo Blahniks. She and her husband live in Dallas, Texas.
    Donna has been blessed by her success as a businesswoman, but nothing compares to being married and the proud mother of two Southern gentlemen, Brandon and Collin, who love their families and are successful in their own right.
    She has extensive experience