So, I fixed it. (You're welcome Disney) She can keep the ball and pretty dresses and marriage to a prince, just give us MORE.
Here is the story, along with the way I think it should have gone.
Disney Cinderella: My parents are dead! The grief is crippling.
Better Cinderella: My parents are dead! I’ll have to stand on my own two feet now.
Disney Cinderella: I think I'll do nothing and let myself be psychologically abused until I lose all self-respect.
Better Cinderella: Stepmother tries to dominate me. I don't put up with it. This is my house she came into.
Disney Cinderella: I let the abuse turn me into some kind of slave. Now I clean stuff all day.
Better Cinderella: Inheritance law gives Stepmother the house. I move out and earn my own way, possibly as a governess in a manor house, or maybe a dressmaker for the upper class. After all, knowing how to make a dress is much cooler than only knowing how to wear one.
Disney Cinderella: Years pass. Still cleaning. The only friends I feel worthy of having are literal vermin.
Better Cinderella: I get acquainted with all the secrets of the ruling class and start to use them to my advantage. I use my influence to get involved politically behind the scenes. I aim to have a hand in stopping the dangerous conditions that killed my father.
Disney Cinderella: Since I have no real dreams, my greatest ambition is to go to a party I don't think I'm good enough to attend.
Better Cinderella: I decide to attend a ball on secret mission to deliver poison antidotes to lady in waiting who is afraid for her life.
Disney Cinderella: Magic has to intervene because I can't do anything for myself.
Better Cinderella: I wear a dress of my own design with secret pockets for weapons.
Disney Cinderella: I make it to the ball and people think I’m pretty, but would prefer me to smile like a doll and keep my mouth shut. I don’t have anything interesting to say anyway. Rich guy decides to acquire me based solely on my appearance.
Better Cinderella: Arriving at the ball, I run into the prince. I avoid him because he draws too much attention. While making my escape, I am narrowly caught by a guard who has a vendetta against me. I end up dancing with the Prince until the guard is gone. While we dance, I take advantage of the situation to voice my opinions on the kingdom’s policies. The prince surprisingly agrees with me.
Disney Cinderella: Time to leave. I run away because I don’t have the self-worth or dignity to be straightforward with the prince. My dress returns to rags because I don’t even have control over my own clothes. One of my absurdly impractical slippers gets left behind. I’m lucky it didn’t shatter and cripple me for life.
Better Cinderella: I tell him exactly who I am because I’m not intimidated by people with royal blood. If he wants to see me, he knows where to find me. I leave, slipping off into the shadows and climbing down the stone wall to avoid the guards. Luckily, I wore pretty but practical boots because my life involves more than tottering around a dance floor.
Disney Cinderella: He said he loved me, but he couldn’t even remember what I looked like. I did nothing to seek him out. After making his way through every last girl in the kingdom, he hunted me down and carried me off. I marry him after knowing him for about three days. Since I am emotionally crippled and don't have much to offer, it's clear I'll be his little pet like I was my stepmother’s.
Better Cinderella: He comes to see me. After a long and cautious courtship in which we slowly earn each other’s trust, we marry.
Disney Cinderella: Nothing else interesting happens ever. I sit in the castle and try desperately to hold on to my beauty since it’s the only thing I have.
Better Cinderella: I actually have something to offer my husband besides a pretty face. We ride across our kingdom having adventures and ruling wisely and justly hand in hand for many years.
Be pretty on the outside and Batman on the inside.