Member-only story
I WAS NEVER ANYONE’S PRINCESS
I wasn’t anyone’s princess
I knew the cavalry wasn’t coming
I had to saddle my own white horse
I couldn’t have been more than five
My father told me I could have any pumpkin in the pumpkin patch
My eyes locked on a Cinderella sized carriage pumpkin
Just as my father added, “So long as you can carry it”
My five, fifteen, and twenty year old self thought my father might be cruel
He was just worried
Scared to have a daughter who might get confused
Little girl, make your own money
Don’t feel sad
They sell princesses to the highest bidder
And behead queens you know?
Some little girls carry dolls
I filled my vintage thrift store handbags with Monopoly money and hope
Bag Lady Syndrome belongs to women
Like periods, childbirth, and taking care of the dying
There is no Bag Gentleman Syndrome
Back in the 70s, a man at H&R Block told my mom
“You can’t claim head of household”
Just because you’re the only provider doesn’t mean you get any credit
