June 2025
The Princess Who Believed in Fairy Tales — Marcia Grad
The first time I picked up this book, I was in pieces.
I had been indicted. I’d lost my job. My marriage had ended. The fairy tale of my life — the version I had built with hard work, ambition, and “doing the right things” — had completely shattered. I was raw, ashamed, and hollow. My Life Coach handed me this book, and honestly, I didn’t expect much. But it got through to me. Somehow, a fable about a princess in crisis hit hard.
I just read it again, this time as a man training to help others as a Life Coach. And while I’ve changed, the message of this book hasn’t — it still exposes the lies I used to live by and points to the freedom I’ve been fighting for ever since.
Losing the Fairy Tale
Victoria, the princess, lives inside a beautiful lie. She’s been trained to believe that if she just follows the script — smile, be agreeable, make others happy — she’ll find peace and love. But the harder she tries, the more trapped she becomes. That was me.
For so long, I had been chasing what I thought was “success” — a good family, a respected career, a reputation that looked polished from the outside. But deep down, I was withering. I didn’t know how to say no, didn’t know how to be vulnerable, didn’t know how to live without someone else’s approval. When it all collapsed — the indictment, the job, the marriage — I was forced to see that my life had been more illusion than truth.
This book didn’t just hold a mirror to that — it gave me permission to step into the unknown.
The Forest of Reality
Victoria’s journey into the Forest of Reality mirrors the path I’ve been walking ever since everything fell apart. She meets her fears, her false beliefs, and the voices that have controlled her since childhood. It’s terrifying. But it’s also liberating.
I remember reading this part the first time, stunned by how closely it mirrored my own unraveling. The fear of disappointing others. The guilt of failure. The lie that love must be earned through perfection. And yet, in the forest — in the loneliness and darkness — she begins to hear truth for the first time.
Same with me. In the quiet of rock bottom, I started to hear God again. I started to hear myself again.
The Voice and the Choice
Eventually, the princess finds her voice — the one she’d been taught to silence. And that was the moment that truly struck me. Because for years, I had buried my voice under performance and shame. I had become fluent in saying what others wanted to hear — but I didn’t even know what I believed anymore.
This second time reading the book, I realized something deeper: her voice isn’t just what she says — it’s who she is. It’s the part of her that knows she’s worthy, even without a castle, a prince, or a plan. That part of the story reminded me that I don’t have to keep striving to be enough. I already am — in the eyes of God, and slowly, in my own.
Now, On the Other Side
Now I’m preparing to help others — men and women like me who’ve lost themselves trying to live someone else’s version of a perfect life. I’m not a finished product. I still carry the residue of shame, the scars of broken trust, and the ache of lost time with my kids and my purpose. But I’m also freer than I’ve ever been.
This book taught me that breakdown is not the end — it’s the threshold. It reminded me that it’s not too late to rebuild from truth. Not with castles and costumes, but with courage, compassion, and authenticity.
What I Learned (and What I’m Still Learning):
· Living by a false story will always end in pain. Truth, even when it hurts, is the only way to freedom.
· My voice matters — and it’s strongest when I stop trying to prove or please.
· Healing begins when we name the lies we’ve lived by and begin writing something new.
· Love is not earned by perfection; it’s received by surrender.
· I can walk others through their own “forest” because I’ve made it through mine.
This wasn’t just a book. It was a lifeline during my collapse, and a compass as I rise again. I see now that the fairy tale was never the goal — wholeness was. And I’m learning how to live whole. One real word, one honest step at a time.
