Cinderella

The best version of Cinderella is the 1997 film adaptation of Roger's and Hammerstein's play. It features Brandi and Whitney Houston and Bernadette Peters (who we can all agree is a treasure and a half, even when playing the evil stepmother). This musical is obviously the best thing since sliced bread.

Alongside fabulous costume design, some truly bizarre sets, and some bread-centered choreography (choreographed dancing with bread is on my bucket list), the script offers this little gem.

Cinderella: "I wish I could go to the ball."

Fairy Godmother (AKA Golden Whitney Houston): "Then go to the ball, Cinderella, go. No one is stopping you but you."

As a kid, I felt this was kind of unfair. But she doesn't stop there. "That's the trouble with most people. They just dream about doing something instead of really doing it."

Talk about kicking a princess while she's down. But FGM was right. Cinderella could have gone to the ball, but just rested back on the assumption that she couldn't, and (in this film) was far too accepting of her fate. Sure she got some horses and a fancy dress and some truly uncomfortable and impractical shoes from Madame Fairy, but the real person standing in her way wasn't a vindictive and jealous maternal monster or a pair of ugly inside-and-out housemates. It was herself. 

No one is stopping you but you.

Now, you might have some insane obstacles in your path. You might, for example, live twenty miles from the castle and those twenty miles might have dragons and thickets of thirsty piranha plants (thanks, Mario). 

You might think you are too old to try something new. You're not. 

You might think that because you've failed 500 times before, you should just give up. You shouldn't.

You might believe that other people have what it takes. They're more talented, more athletic, more intelligent, more beautiful. 

And the truth is, your limitations will never go away. Some people do have it easier. Some people are gifted. Some people don't have to work as hard. Some people don't have back pain or health problems or consequences from decades ago still haunting them. Cinderella still had evil step-family members and chores and a midnight curfew.

So you hit the thicket, and you have bare hands, a broken leg, and no machete. The only way is through, but you don't have the tools. Does the journey end there?

For some people, the answer is yes. The thicket is too much, and they accept it. They blame the thicket. 

For others, the answer is to create new tools. They want to get through the thicket, to pass those twenty miles, to get there before the clock strikes twelve. They attack the problem head-on. They get help. They ask questions. They get feedback. They improve their fitness. They watch a YouTube video on DIY thicket crushing. They build an airplane after taking several semesters of mechanics and physics courses. 

For others, there is a third option, and it's not as simple as quitting or as flashy as pushing through at all costs. It's finding a new path. It's recognizing that changing course is not giving up, but applying their immense talent and drive in a new direction -- aiming for the same satisfaction, the same accomplishment, the same desire to never stand in your own way. These people change the world. They build roads through thickets for others who need help. They campaign that balls are an antiquated way for royals to romance, and try to implement a Kingdom Dating app instead. They teach fairies to make shoes out of leather instead of glass, and they start a college fund for orphaned step-children. 

In some ways, I have discovered I have a fear of success. I almost like being mediocre, even while I say I hate it. I like the excuses that allow me to underperform. I don't want to have to face the truth that when all my excuses are taken away, the only real reason why I'm not succeeding is that I am not brave enough to commit. I am not brave enough to fail. And I am not brave enough to see that I'm not enough when all is said and done. So, my excuses give me a buffer, a safety net to fall back on when I don't feel like trying anymore.

FGM was right. The only thing stopping me is me.