Skip to content

Suga, lemme tell ya sumthin…

I ain’t no princess. I am a queen. Believe me, there is a phenomenal difference.

As you already know, I hail from the gravy soppin’, biscuit eatin’, sweet tea drinkin’, muggy ass South. I am proud of the long, dirt path that I have traveled with these calloused toes of mine. I have rightfully earned my way into the status of “Queen.”

In today’s society, when a grown woman calls herself a “Princess,” it means that they like to be treated as if they’re entitled to everything without earning any of it. It’s also their excuse to behave like the 5 year-old brat having tantrums when something doesn’t go their way.

There are plenty of girls (not ladies) who confuse this with being a Queen because they also have a sassy attitude. No, honey. You’re just a bitch.

There are also girls who are born into money, spoiled their entire existence, and feel like they’ve inherited the title. That’s not it either. That’s just luck. Sit back down.

Let me tell you what makes you real royalty…

I was born into the poverty stricken, working class. It was never uncommon to come home with dirt in every crevice of your body. Farming was every day life. Family was all that you had. Love was everything. Pizza Hut and VHS rentals were a luxury.

My foundation is made of straw, tobacco juice, and the blood of my elders. Life has roped my wrists, tied me to the back of a tractor, and dragged me through a ditch lined with sharp stones and muddy water. Rarely have I been able to come up for air and let my wounds heal. Instead, my back straightened and became stronger. I have calloused and toughened my skin. I have carried others out of their troubles, even if it meant furthering mine.

At any moment, I am ready to trade my heels for a sword. I have stood in battle and gone to war, fighting alongside other warriors and I have gone alone when I needed to strengthen my armor.

I am not the only one, there are many real Queens out there. Our crowns may not be made of precious metals and stones, but no one else’s spine is strong enough to carry them.

If you are a Queen, make sure people respect that, but don’t be a bitch about it. Be the classy lady that you know you are. Find your self a King (or fellow Queen) that recognizes you for who you are and is willing to be your battle mate. Grow your own warriors. Teach them what real struggle is and how to appreciate everything and everyone they have.

If you’re a princess, it’s never too late to become a phoenix of a Queen. After all, isn’t it she who is the most important piece in the game of chess?

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: