What Happened

I was supposed to be queen of something by now. Or king or czar or at least mayor. Ruling people in such a way that they fawn over me. I was supposed to be on magazine covers. With the prettiest face, and the body we all want. My dainty ankle recognized immediately as I step out of a limo. I was supposed to have six mansions, and eight swimming pools. I would decorate them in reds, purples, silvers, greens and yellows. One of them would be entirely done in orange though, my favorite color. I was supposed to have won the lottery, and had the ticker tape parade. People in foreign countries would ask me for my autograph, for I would not be revered only in one country. I was supposed to have the happily ever after prince, and the white horse. My face was supposed to be carved on Mount Rushmore. What the heck happened?