Gold and Iron

Today's Tiara Tuesday.  It's supposed to be a whimsical but empowering day to shake off the mundane slog, to remember and celebrate the queen you are, to reclaim your power and individual sovereignty.

Except I don't feel like a queen. I feel like I'm in the thick of battle, exhausted, knee deep in mud and struggling to keep my feet. Everywhere I turn there is another chore, another weight, another need.  When I don't keep moving depression rolls in like a thick fog, and I don't know where to put my feet. I've been here for months, with no indication of when the war will end.

Tiaras are useless here.   They're too flimsy, their delicate gold and silver easily bent and broken, their lustrous gems scattered and lost.. Symbols of gifted power, they are meant to be seen--their value disappears in the lonely dark. 

Iron better fits a queen--heavy to bear, but strong.  Indestructible. Heavy with the weight of experience and suffering.  And you earn it.  You fight for it.  You choose it.  It isn't given to you, even if it is your birthright.  You get up every day, wipe the blood off your face, and grin at the enemy.

So I'm going to take a breath, square my feet, and try not to be distracted by the coulds and shoulds and failures.  I will focus on the enemy ahead of me, and forget the rest.  I'll take my iron crown, find comfort and purpose and strength in its weight.  That's not inspirational; it's a necessity.  I only lose if I stay down.

So take a breath, and straighten your damn crown, and keep fighting.  I'm right here with you.

The Lioness of Cintra, Calanthe

From The Witcher by Andresj Sapkowski