At 18, I received a great job working at Walt Disney World as a singer. More than 5,000 people auditioned to fill 10 positions for singer/dancers (five women and five men).
I performed five shows daily in front of Cinderella’s Castle, singing such classics as “When You Wish Upon a Star,” and “Some Day My Prince Will Come.” This was a dream come true for me. I was frequently hired to sing in the recording studio as the voice of Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty. I was paid well, had my own apartment, and enjoyed life independently as a professional singing princess and entertainer.
Shortly after starting my contract at Disney, I met a charming, 22-year-old prince named Dave who worked as an engineer in the theme park. We were highly attracted to each other and spent most of our time off work together. Dave eventually moved in with me.
Within a few months of living under the same roof, I became pregnant. This is where the fairy tale between Dave and I took a turn. He made it clear that he had no interest in “settling down” or making that type of commitment. In fact, he let me know he was experienced with knowing about “places” that would take care of the “problem.” I soon realized he was not my Prince Charming.
I had always wanted to be a mother. But I had learned early in my life from family members who championed the rhetoric of Planned Parenthood that becoming a mother before doing what was perceived as successful was unacceptable. I remember conversations as a little girl where professing my desire to grow up to be a mother repeatedly met this type of response: “Honey, you can be anything in the world. Why would you want to be JUST a mother. You can be a mother AFTER you become successful.”
With this conversation in mind, an unwilling prince, and the echoes of anti-mother messaging steering me away from motherhood “too young,” I had an abortion on a Friday. I immediately regretted it. I curled up in the fetal position in my bed sobbing through the entire weekend.
I Just Wanted to Die, Too
Dave had friends over and played video games in the room adjacent to mine, seeming to party in relief as I tried to silence my louder cries in a pillow. My mind swirled with thoughts of wanting to rewind my decision. I kept reminding myself that just two days before, I had been pregnant. I felt hollow inside.
On Monday, I got up and went to work. I wondered if anyone would notice that I had been crying all weekend. I put on my costume. I worked hard to put my eye makeup on to cover the tear stains. I fixed my hair, brushed on my blush, applied lipstick, and tried to smile through the song and dance. I sang “So This is Love,” and “How Lovely It Will Be,” but it felt like an out-of-body experience.
I continued to sing on the castle stage daily. Dave continued to play his games. I was like an empty automatic doll trying to sing princess songs. Dave was happy, relieved, and distant. This performance went on for about 7-8 months. My legs were giving out and my voice was not as strong because I cried too much on my days off.
Eventually, I gave notice and quit my dream job, hoping to find healing somehow. I was crushed and broke up with the man I once thought I loved, knowing it was necessary. Dave was relieved and detached as my feelings toward him cooled. With the beautiful castle days behind me, I could no longer muster the energy to sing or whistle a happy tune. I walked away and wanted to die, as Cinderella’s Castle (my happy place) faded in the distance.
I spent the following days and months in deep prayer, reading, and counseling. I was eventually healed by the grace of God. I reconnected to my Christian faith. I learned to forgive myself and knew I was forgiven. But I had to go through a process of deep reflection, intercession, and understanding regarding my abortion experience and the deep struggles I faced afterwards.
The path through this type of grief is grueling, sad, and exhausting. Years later, I met a great man and became a mother. I am healed now and proudly the mother of seven kids (two by birth, five by international adoption). We now live within miles of Cinderella’s Castle in Orlando. And I can sing again.
Planned Parenthood Wants More Women to Feel Pain
Recently, Planned Parenthood tweeted, “We Need a Disney Princess Who Had an Abortion.” I am a former Disney princess who had an abortion. It is not easy to share a story that represents my deepest personal loss and sadness. But I also will not remain silent knowing what I know.
Through the healing process, I have learned some very important lessons. Planned Parenthood’s method to marginalize motherhood is intentional and still very much alive. It seems the organization is now considering promoting abortion to toddlers who are happily wearing their tiaras like Cinderella. As a grown woman who has battled victorious over demons, slayed the dragons, and survived the poison of evil rhetoric, I cannot stand voiceless and let intentional abortion indoctrination drift in like a cloud to hypnotize my sons and daughters.
The tweet overlaid something sinister. Since its founding, this organization has sold a death message. Among many other horrible things, Planned Parenthood Founder Margaret Sanger once wrote—insert scary music, echo effect, and voice of Maleficent— “The most merciful thing that the large family does to one of its infant members is to kill it.”
We do not need a Disney princess written by authors scripting a manipulated story that aims to glorify killing children. This kind of strategic propaganda contributed to my own personal tragedy. Abortion doesn’t empower. It is a tragic tale rarely told because the abortion architects would need to admit the damage it has caused women like myself (and obviously their children).
Princess Tales Are at Heart the Exact Opposite Message
The stories little girls need to continue to hear are already exemplified in the fairy tales that teach us about goodness and truth. It has always been the witches plotting to confuse the princesses, attempting to lure them away from their noble pursuits, pushing them out of their destined castles with evil intent to smother their dreams. These evil ones appear powerful, but always end up falling off cliffs or being struck down by the goodness of truth.
Had I listened more to Cinderella’s story as a child, I would have avoided my greatest regret. My abortion occurred because I allowed myself to become influenced by twisted stories from an organization with an agenda to kill my greatest calling.
Cinderella, battling through unplanned circumstances as an orphan in the fire before being transformed into a sparkly princess and future queen, is a story that brings hope and teaches us about true empowerment. It’s a story of making something beautiful out of the life surprises that threaten to burn us.
Cinderella’s crown represents victory over the lies of evil women that told us we were dirty girls destined to sit in the cinders rather than future monarchs destined to rule. Princess fairy tales have lasted ages and teach women about goodness, mercy, kindness, power, perseverance, and strength in a world trying to whistle songs of death past little ears.
If a little girl wants to fulfill a dream, she needs to be reminded by good women who aren’t following a political agenda that she can be anything she wants to be, even if that means being a mother.
