This past year, I met up with my college girlfriends for a very overdue trip. We are all spread out across different cities and states. Pregnancies, newborns, toddlers, and now self-proclaimed big kids abound in our continuously growing group. It’s fun to see some of my dearest friends cheering on dress-up-time performances and singing bedtime songs. As their children grow, I enjoy watching personalities blossom and hobbies and interests expand. I answer lots of questions and respond dutifully to lots of, “Betsy, watch this!” requests. There are tears, time-outs, picked apart plates of food, Disney movies, funny dances, giggles, new stuffed animal acquaintances, avoided bedtimes, and deep-sleep couch crashes.
On this particular trip, I stayed with my friend and her family of five (six if you count the dog). Her daughter is five and is a perfect balance of silly, stubborn, creative, and sweet. We played with animal figurines, created stuffed animal habitats out of to-go food containers, and read stories together before bedtime.
On this same trip, we were attending an event for another one of our friends. We hurriedly got ready (always perpetually running late). I threw on a long dress and the same heeled booties that I had been wearing all weekend (I forgot to pack other shoes – whoops). I had planned on curling my hair, but I realized that we were running too short on time. I decided that a quick brush-through would have to suffice. I started slapping on some makeup, and my friend’s daughter came in and watched as I haphazardly smeared eye shadow and brushed mascara on.
She asked about where we were going, commented on my long dress, and watched my reflection in the mirror as I rushed to get ready. She adores princesses, and I asked her if I looked like a princess now that I had changed. (I can assure you that after going out the night before I did not look like a princess earlier in the day). Nothing beats a child’s honesty, and she responded with a big, “No!” I laughed and asked her, “What? Why not?” And she said, “You can’t be a princess because your hair is messy.” (She wasn’t wrong). I said, “Well, can’t princesses have messy hair sometimes? We all have messy hair at times, right?” She looked quizzical and said, “I do, but that’s why I can’t be a princess.” I mocked a shocked expression at her.
I explained that princesses don’t look gorgeous all of the time. Not even princesses looked like princesses every moment. No one does. Princesses wake up with bedhead and sleepy eyes just like the rest of us. I asked her if she knew what was more important than looking like a princess though. Eyes wide she shook her head. I said, “Feeling like a princess.” I asked, “Do you feel like a princess?” She nodded excitedly and said, “Yes!” I said, “Me too. And that’s what really matters. That’s a whole lot better than looking like a princess all of the time anyway.”
I’m sure she won’t remember that conversation (I hardly remember anything from that same age), but I’ll remember it. I sure as hell don’t look like a princess most of the time, and that’s totally acceptable and realistic. Nonetheless, most days I think I’m still walking around with that I’ve-got-this princess energy (as we all should). As Billie Eilish wonderfully sings, “You should see me in a crown.” You may not always be able to see my crown or tiara (or your own), but they’re there, I promise. Please remember, chin up, and make sure that you always wear your head held high. Even if you have to affix that tiara over rushed, frizzy, finger-brushed hair, you are still goddamn royalty, and don’t you ever forget it.
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Photo by Candace Fox