When I was Cinderella


I was fifteen when I met Pierre. We were in school in a small town outside of Paris. We lived a simple life full of family and friends. Pierre always called me Cinderella...that was his nickname for me. I loved it.

When it came time to go to university we both decided to go to La Sorbonne. We wanted to be together. We both moved to Paris. To the shock of our parents we decided to share an apartment near the school. We knew we would both be very busy and we wanted to see of much of each other as possible. Our small studio in Saint Germain was wonderful. Lots of light and room for our friends to come and sit on the floor..drink cheap wine and solve the problems of the world. We were happy students.

We went to all the student places...the 10th & 11th arrondissement...with trendy bars..the Canal Saint Martin..buy a bottle of wine & a baguette and cheese and spend a wonderful afternoon meeting your friends. Everyone brought something...this was the “in” area. Full of nannies, children, students and a mix of all the new visitors..This area was “HIP” we all loved it. We hung out at “Casa Nostra” and the great Cambodian restaurant “Le Cambodge”...They were wonderful to us...we loved them and they loved us..

One of our friends was Stephanie Wolff, a talented dress designer. She would help us make our “not” so chic clothes look “chic”. We all looked better after Stephanie got finished with us. Her dream was to be a wedding dress designer. This is a very difficult choice in Paris and a limited amount of customers. My dream was to have her make my wedding dress.

When Pierre finally asked me to marry him, Christmas 2014, my first call was to Stephanie. She said she would make my dress. Fantasy filled my dreams. Flowing yards of silk, lace sleeves a white veil and a train. My Cinderella dress. Some of the happiest times was with Stephanie during the many fittings. Her dresses slid over your body. Nothing was restricting. Every inch of fabric flowed. My dress was so beautiful. As a surprise she made me a full length white wool cape to go with my magnificent dress. We were getting married December 31 1015 so it would be cold.

Pierre and I had very demanding jobs. He was a market analysis. I was working at a grand hotel so my hours were never normal. We managed our schedules well but many times I could not be with him in the evening as hotel duties were demanding. i had to meet new clients . The social work in a hotel is very important for created lifelong clients. He was very understanding so many times he went out with friends.

We were all “new Music” fans so we went to many concerts. If it was new and “IN” we went. The Bataclan concert on November 13 1015 was to be attended by Pierre and Stephanie and many friends. i could not attend because the hotel was hosting a very important group.

When I arrived home at midnight there were messages, texts and calls. I had no idea what had happened. My phone rang and it was Stephanie. She had not gone to the concert because she forgot her ticket but Pierre had gone with our other friends. She told me not to worry he would be home soon.. Night turned into day and I watched the news hoping my Prince Charming would be home soon. That was never to happen. I was in shock and disbelief. How could anyone take my Pierre away.

Hope then despair. I did not know what to do. Our friends were with me all the time. I cried..I asked WHY???? a million times. We had our whole life ahead of us. Now it has ended. My beautiful wedding dress will hang in the closet forever in memory of my beloved Pierre. Has my life changed? Yes I am no longer Cinderella but I am stronger and more determined to make everything better. This will not destroy me. I am French. I am strong.


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