TWHS Reviews My Foot Is Too Big For The Glass Slipper by Gabrielle Reece
Only Marvin Gaye and lingerie
I guessed somebody lied…
Those are the opening lyrics to Tamar Braxton’s song “Love and War”. After experiencing one year of matrimony, I couldn’t have said it better.
When the publishing company of former pro volleyball player Gabrielle Reece’s book My Foot Is Too Big for the Glass Slipper: A Guide to the Less Than Perfect Life shipped me a copy for review, it seemed only seemed – er, fitting. The timing of my creation of the Cinderella smoothie the same week I reunited with my childhood sweetheart made me truly believe in fairy tales. But even fairy tales have sub plots, and while my glass slipper isn’t too small, I have discovered a crack in it as of late.
What I connected to immediately is how Reece’s creative voice is sprinkled with bon mot instead of pixie dust. Marriage can be messy, unpredictable and blissful – usually in the span of 24 hours. And to read how she went through the exact same moments of disparity somehow made me feel better that I wasn’t alone.
There is no manual on the perfect marriage, and Reece is not trying to sugarcoat the fact that we all are equally responsible for the outcome. For better or worse (or until the bottom falls out), you give and give until one of you doesn’t want to give anymore.
Being a writer (and poster child for OCD), I truly connected with Reece’s suggestion in creating “the five”; a list of mandatory qualities of a partner needed that have nothing to do with zodiac signs and everything to do with creating a copacetic marriage with YOU . At the end of the day, only you know what will make your heart smile or cringe.
What I appreciate is how Gabrielle Reece is a successful woman that didn’t have to dim her shine just because she said “I Do”. From marrying a surfer with movie star looks to motherhood and all that comes with it, a woman’s health and fitness is just as important in the success of any marriage.
Yes, marriage is complex. But “the five” doesn’t need be. And while I may never understand why my husband sets the glass next to the coaster on the table, turns into the quintessential Grinch when I want to pick out a Christmas tree or feels the need to blast the radio while the TV is on, I can only stay honest to what doesn’t make me live miserably ever after.
Originally posted at thewellheeledsocietyblogspot.com