All lovers in the world share that sense of specialness—the feeling of wings sprouting as you look into the eyes of your beloved. You believe you can handle anything in the world; you feel wonderful and cherished.
The problem is that, sooner or later, we hit the ground, simply because “this kind of love” cannot fly. Therefore, if for one reason or another we happen to be rejected or neglected by the beloved, we don’t just hit the ground—we crash through it. We fall into the underworld of the furious Ereshkigal, where to our horror, we discover that the roar of the Devouring Lion is our own roar, echoing from the depths of our soul.
Thus we realize that both the heights and the depths of the soul lead to the same place: the center of our personality.
Paradoxically, the center of this personality is also the center of the Universe. Empedocles’ definition of God as “a circle whose center is everywhere and whose circumference is nowhere” describes a “being” built from the super-intelligent energy of the Universe, one that possesses countless eyes—our eyes. If we manage to pass through the layers of ego-consciousness and look through them, we will understand why all enlightened teachers say that “all is One.” At the center of our individual I is the I of the Whole—a phenomenon beyond space and time, where indeed we are all One.
The One with countless eyes. Including our eyes.
In Jung’s analytical psychology, this “One with countless eyes” is called the archetype of the Self, and the long journey toward the unification of opposites within one’s own psyche is the process of individuation. In this article, I share my interpretation of the tale of Cinderella to illuminate the special role of love disappointment as an initiation into the depths of the psyche and the beginning of the long path toward one’s innermost center.
The Road Back to the Center Leads Through Cinderella’s Hearth
We have all had these “center of the Universe” experiences when we were infants. At that time, we lacked a sense of separation from the rest of the world and perceived our mother as an extension of ourselves. We do not remember these moments because memory requires the presence of individual consciousness, which we did not yet possess.
The most important thing to understand about the development of individual consciousness is that it is a dual process. On one hand, it is accompanied by the agonizing feelings of the “dethronement” of the embodied god in a human body—an emptying of its divinity and omnipotence, which in Christianity is called kenosis. On the other hand, it leads to the growth of consciousness and a sense of freedom through separation from others. When we experience intense infatuation followed by disappointment, the feeling of rejection reaches this innermost center of ours, which is why the pain is so unbearable.
When our immortal Self sinks into matter, it begins to derive its sense of inner worth from the world of the transient (appearance, possessions, achievements, relationships). Gradually, the small divine spark trapped in a human body loses its connection with its Source. Instead of being at the center of the Universe, we find ourselves at its periphery. Psychologically, this is experienced as being “nobody.” We feel like an ordinary being, stripped of all significance, who—much like Cinderella—lives by the hearth, dirty and unnoticed by others, including our own father.
At the end of the tale, however, it is precisely this invisible and ordinary servant girl who becomes the chosen princess. When Cinderella goes to the ball, the prince is so captivated by her beauty that he allows no one else to dance with her. Even the old king repeatedly tells his wife, the queen, that he has never seen such a beautiful maiden. Everyone looks at Cinderella; everyone admires her. She is seated in the place of highest honor, and the attention of the entire room is focused on her. From the periphery of the world, Cinderella suddenly finds herself at its center. The nondescript and ordinary girl is transformed into the most beautiful princess in the world.
I fear that for those whose love has been deeply wounded, the path back to the center of the Universe leads through Cinderella’s hearth. In psychological terms, this means passing through a place where we cry out the grief and sadness of our unhappy fate, but without blaming others or indulging in self-pity. In this place, “servitude” means selfless service to others, as this is how we heal the arrogant and pretentious parts of ourselves. There, we abandon our claims to specialness and embrace our ordinariness.
And from this embrace, a sense of inner worth is born—one that does not depend on the evaluations of the outside world. It is also here that our unique, individual Self is born, symbolized by Cinderella’s slipper, which no other foot can fit.
The “Cinderella Recipe”
For me, the story of Cinderella is one of the most beautiful accounts of spiritual transformation and the rising of the phoenix from the ashes. It is a true alchemical recipe for how to transform our pretensions of specialness into the gold of our unique individuality. It is only when we reach the “ashes” that the desire to compare ourselves with others falls away. We exit the pendulum where we swing between being “more than others” (becoming arrogant, critical, or demanding) and being “less than others” (feeling inferior, frightened, and filled with doubt). Before that happens, however, we must practice the “Cinderella recipe” for a long time.
Princesses are known for being pretentious and constantly seeking proof of their specialness from their surroundings. The problem is that their slippers are not their personal merit, but a gift from their parents—the king and queen into whose family they were born. They themselves did nothing to earn them. Nevertheless, they tap their feet in frustration every time they do not get what they want.
In contrast, Cinderella’s slippers come from another dimension and are a personal merit of the purity of her heart. This is the dimension of magic, where the Spirit, with an invisible wand, materializes our desires. However, it does so only for those who possess the humility and modesty of Cinderella—two qualities of the heart that make the person who possesses them shine with an “otherworldly beauty.” This kind of beauty returns us to the center of the Universe, but since we have already passed through the experiences of the periphery, we know that the eyes with which we view the world are only one pair among the countless eyes of the Whole, which is getting to know itself in the world of matter.
This is why fairy tales fascinate the human imagination and enjoy such longevity—they contain alchemical codes for transforming life’s hardships. They heal our souls through their symbolic language. For true healing to occur, however, it is necessary to include the understanding of the mind. This is exactly what Jungian analytical psychology does, providing an invaluable tool for interpreting the symbolism of dreams, fairy tales, myths, and other creative products of the human imagination.
The Problem of Love (Eros) from a Jungian Perspective
According to this psychology, when fairy tales speak of a king and a queen, they refer to the central figures of our own inner kingdom. If there is a problem in this kingdom—for example, the queen has died or is childless, or the king is ill—it signifies something about ourselves. To understand what it is, we must look for what is “sick.”
“In interpreting a fairy tale, it is important to start at the beginning and ask: ‘Who is missing for the family to be whole?’ Generally, the missing element in human form manifests later in another form. Something happens in the course of the story and the incomplete is filled. The tale begins with an unsatisfactory situation and then shows how the completion takes place.” — Marie-Louise von Franz, Anima and Animus in Fairy Tales
The missing element in the story of Cinderella is her biological mother, who has died, and in her place has come the stepmother—a haughty and arrogant woman, the likes of whom no one has seen before. The commentator on this tale, Jeanne-Franciska Cruce van Delden, writes that this is the image of a person who has lost touch with their soul (symbolized by the deceased mother), whose consciousness is dominated by a pseudo-soul (symbolized by the stepmother).
On the other hand, this can also be viewed as a tale about the animus, as the injured principle is the masculine principle in the form of a weakly presented father who leaves his daughter to find the solution alone. In other words, the problem is the negative animus, which has possessed the conscious Ego and, instead of serving Eros (love), has begun to serve the desire for power.
“Where love is missing, power takes its place—a woman with a strong animus or a prestige persona that she tries to protect.” — Marie-Louise von Franz, Anima and Animus in Fairy Tales
Every time we feel like “Cinderellas,” it is a sign that our conscious personality is dominated by the stepmother and her two daughters. If for one reason or another we feel inferior, it is a sign that she is the one ruling our lives. This awareness is the key to turning this fairy tale into a healing pill.
Because the problem is not that we feel like Cinderellas. The problem is that we treat ourselves like stepmothers. The problem is that we measure our inner worth by the signs of
conditional love and try to satisfy its hunger with the approval, recognition, and attention of others.
As usual, the problem is the solution. In this story, being Cinderella and feeling like Cinderella is the solution, not the problem. It is a sign that the time has come to learn the lesson of unconditional love. Only it can help us open our hearts and love without the fear of being hurt or rejected again.
The “Ashes” and the Process of Calcination
Alchemy is the science of transforming lead into gold. As such, it is a symbol of purifying our spiritual nature from lower human passions through psychological functions symbolized by the elements of fire, water, and air. In the story of Cinderella, purification occurs through the element of fire, because its end result is ash.
Since Cinderella’s heart is pure and these primal passions are foreign to her, her image can be seen as a symbol of the completed process of calcination. “Cinderella” is the name of what remains of us when the arrogant and pretentious stepmother burns away in the flames of our unfulfilled desires.
I once had a client who was lucky enough to be born beautiful and intelligent into a wealthy family that satisfied her every whim. Everything in her life was fine until she fell in love with a man who eventually left her. Can you imagine the intensity of the depression and rage following such a rejection? They were immense.
Yet, this is exactly how the inner regulating principle of our psyche works. Hidden from our conscious attitude, there is “something” within us that seeks its own defeat. Eventually, the time comes when we do not get what we want, and that is when powerlessness sets in. When this experience pertains to love, it can be truly devastating.
The only antidote to such intensity is the conscious desire to become Cinderella. In that state, the pain comes not only from the rejection and wounded pride; it comes from realizing that we have been exactly like the stepmothers of Cinderella and Snow White combined.
The resistance of the “stepmother-pseudo-soul” is fierce and long. She does not want to easily let go of her desire for superiority and dominance.
“The fire must burn the fire; one simply has to burn in the emotion until the fire goes out and balance is reached. This is something that, unfortunately, cannot be avoided. The burning of the fire, of the emotion, cannot be removed from the human system; there is no recipe for removal—it must be endured.
The fire must burn until the last impure element is burned away, which is said in all alchemical texts in various variations, and we have found no other way. It can only be suffered through as long as it is mortal and perishable, or as the text beautifully puts it, until the ‘rotting moisture’—the unconsciousness—evaporates. This is the meaning: the acceptance of suffering.” — Marie-Louise von Franz, Alchemy: Symbolic and Psychology
It becomes clear that the therapist can do very little in this process. Since the changes take place at the level of the soul rather than the ego-will, they proceed for as long as they need to reach the hearth where our “Cinderellas” are born.
“If a person is filled with ten thousand devils, they can only burn with them until they quiet down and grow still; the infantile demand for the analyst or someone else to save them with some suitable trick will not help. If any analyst claims they can do this, they are simply a charlatan, because there is no such thing—and besides, it would make no sense. To attempt to take the patient out of the suffering means taking away their most precious thing; cheap reassurance is harmful because it distracts people from the heat—from the place where the process of individuation occurs.” — Marie-Louise von Franz, Alchemy: Symbolic and Psychology
Both Cinderella and her stepmother are internal characters. They are the two sides of the seventh deadly sin in Christianity—pride—and its opposite, humility. If we want our own story to have a happy ending, we will have to suffer by serving that part of us which clings to the object of its desire and refuses to let go, even if it means more suffering.
Combing the Hair and the Shift in Thinking
When a person undergoes the processes of calcination, they feel unfree—a slave to an impossible desire—because they cannot force another person to love them or guarantee their love forever. In this case, the only change within our control is the change in our thinking.
In the tale, this is symbolized by Cinderella combing the hair of her two stepsisters. When it becomes clear they are going to the ball, the sisters become extremely agitated. In their excitement to see the prince, they even stop eating. But instead of being angry that she is not going, Cinderella helps them prepare their outfits and combs their hair.
In analytical psychology, combing hair is seen as a symbol of ordering the thoughts in our heads. We begin to change our thinking only after we allow our inner Cinderella to comb our hair. If we truly understand the meaning behind the dethronement of our inner capricious princess—our inner stepmother—we eventually want to help her step down from her throne even faster.
Then the crowns fall, the ribbons and slippers tear, our clothes grow old, and the servants leave us. And we gladly do the “dirty work,” having no objection to standing unnoticed in the corner. We already know that the path from the periphery of the world to its center leads through Cinderella’s hearth. We know we will only “marry the Prince” once we shine with our inner beauty—and that it will be seen only by the one “who has eyes to see it.”
In this period, the opinions and evaluations of others cease to be important. We stop taking things personally. We discover that being Cinderella is a wonderful experience. When the sense of our inner worth is saturated with so much unconditional love, the recognition of the outer world ceases to matter. That is when the miracle occurs.
The Slipper That Fits Only Our Foot
From the dimension of the invisible come slippers that fit only our foot. We have earned them through our pains and tears, our modesty and kindness, and the hard labor by the hearth. They are a reward from the Spirit, which has materialized within them all the steps we took while walking untrodden paths. Because they were created by our own unique footprints, they fit only us. No one can take them away, and the “Prince”—the one who can perceive our “otherworldly beauty”—will be ours uniquely and forever.
At this moment, the alchemical process is complete. The lead of the desire for specialness and superiority has been transformed into the gold of our inner worth. This worth stems from unconditional love, humility, and purity of heart, as well as from our unique individuality, which causes all comparisons to vanish. This is what the completed individuation process looks like—a state where ordinariness and uniqueness coexist in a non-contradictory and harmonious way.
In this final stage, I see yet another level of interpretation: the union of opposites. When the clock strikes twelve (a symbol of both an end and a new beginning), the magic breaks—the clothes and the carriage vanish—but the slippers remain. They are the only gift from the invisible that is not subject to decay. One slipper remains with the Prince, and the other with Cinderella. When the slipper is placed on her foot, people cannot believe she is the beauty from the ball. However, all doubts fade when Cinderella produces the matching slipper.
I see this second slipper as a symbol of the ability to embody the new consciousness and the increased capacity for love acquired at the cost of so much suffering. It represents the aspect of individuation where something “Third” is born from the meeting of spirit and matter. In alchemy, this is the final stage—Rubedo or the “Sacred Marriage”—where the division between spirit and body is transcended.
“The last part is connected with the living spirit and the spiritualization of the body, making the body incorporeal and the spirit material. This is another aspect of the coniunctio, the joining of opposites…” — Marie-Louise von Franz, Alchemy: Symbolism and Psychology
The Happy Ending
It took me many years to reach the “ashes” and understand the spiritual meaning of disappointed love and thwarted desire. When I first (and it is never a one-time process) consciously experienced what it means to be Cinderella—sitting in the corner of the room, embracing my ordinariness with both hands—I felt such a surge of peace, harmony, and freedom that I wondered why I had resisted becoming “nobody” for so long.
The paradox of such an experience is truly impressive. Only when you become “nobody” do you understand for the first time that this is the path to becoming truly yourself. Only when you cease to be dependent on the object of your desires do you understand the meaning of freedom in love. Only when you lose everything do you begin to appreciate what you had, or what you still have.
Then comes gratitude.
Only our inner Cinderella can be sincerely grateful. Princesses cannot. The stepmother and her two daughters cannot. Only our inner Cinderella can love. Pretentious princesses cannot. Our inner stepmother and her daughters cannot. Only when the mirror of our thwarted desires breaks can we see our true face and its beauty.
Then we realize that we are unique and irreplaceable in the entire Universe. The secret the Fox gives to the Little Prince—that “it is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye”—is Cinderella’s secret too. It remains a secret only because so few are able to see with their hearts.
Few are those who consciously choose to pass through the processes of transformation formulated by the Hermetic principle: “To accept everything, to renounce everything, and thereby to renew everything.”
Kameliya Hadzhiyska
Note: The Marie-Louise von Franz quote is translated from the Bulgarian text provided. The “Little Prince” reference is to the work of Antoine de Saint-Exupéry.
