Cinderelly

Growing up, like most little girls, I dreamed about being like Cinderella. Except instead of dreaming that a Cinderella story would happen to me—meet a handsome prince, get married, become a princess, live happily ever after—I wanted to be the Cinderella at the beginning of the movie—cooking, cleaning, sewing. I know it's crazy, but I actually enjoy folding laundry, scrubbing toilets, hand washing dishes. I love taking care of people, doing whatever they ask to make them happy and get them ready to go to the ball. When I was 8 and 9 I spent all day helping my big sis get ready for the prom, but by the time I got to high school I never even considered going to my own.

All you feminists out there might get mad at me, but I just really really enjoy being the classic homemaker. I'm not saying every woman's place is in the kitchen, if you want to go to work then that's awesome. But my place—the place that makes me happy, the place I go if I need to relax or de-stress—well, it is the kitchen. I always thought the perfect life would be to get a job as a housekeeper/nanny in some big mansion. I would cook and clean and take care of kids and essentially be a housewife, only without the bother of having to be married. And then my dream came true, and my big sis asked me to be a stay-at-home-auntie. Life was perfect. And then I met Brian.

I quickly fell in love, and within 6 months found myself engaged and preparing to keep my very own house and make my very own home. I cook him dinner and do his laundry and it's the best thing in the world. But then I realized that before I can be a housewife, I have to get married. And I'm finding I'm much more cut out to be a wife than a bride. I hate being the center of attention, I hate having opinions and making decisions. And, I HATE having my picture taken. Which leads me to today.

Brian's boss was kind enough to take our engagement pictures for us. And bring an assistant. And all sorts of lighting equipment. And the best makeup artist in Reno. It was quite the production, I felt like a supermodel. Not fun, for me at least. It was fancy and all, and I definitely appreciated it, but it would have been much more exciting if all the attention had been focused on someone else. Brian kept talking to me and making jokes so I would laugh and smile, and he was even nice enough not to kiss me (I'm telling you, I'm super shy, we've still never even kissed in front of his family). And when all else failed and I felt like running in a corner and hiding behind a bush, I just looked at these beautiful things on my feet, and all was right with the world. I don't even think I'd mind the paparazzi if I was wearing these.

The most beautiful shoes I've ever seen. My first pair of heels (I was convinced that heels made me too tall, even if I am only 5' even) and the first shoes I've bought in 10 months. Even better than glass slippers.