someone recently launched into an explanation of why i’m complicated with “you act like a princess…”

kk.

my best friend was incensed when i told her- like triple angry voice note incensed.

meanwhile, my initial reaction was a smirk. i am a MF princess, and have worked for the past three decades to relish in how i embody that weighty position, rather than take it as a coded jab.

because here’s the thing- i am done stooping to someone else’s myopic understanding of my complications complexities.

proud princess over here, babes.

i was an adored little girl, had a gaggle of bestbest girlfriends in high school, still regularly stumble into special treatment and am lucky to have had a few romantic partners who treated me like… a princess.

princess reads like diva or bossy, words that have morphed into lazy tropes to relegate women to smallness while lambasting any perceived too much-ness. and most times the person doling out these monikers as an insult is revealing more about themselves than the subject of the judgement.

so, today i honor my inner/outer, physical/emotional and past/present/future princess. you are meant to be unabashedly complicated (eye roll at that word), containing multitudes that rub the right people the right way and the wrong people however the fuck they want to take it.

you’re royal, baby. xx