Princess Tales

“Do you like my drawing mommy?”

I looked over at my daughter Jasmine and smiled not really seeing the picture she’d held up.

“Its beautiful princess” I answered absently as I pulled our clothes out of the duffel bags and placed them into the small dresser beside our twin bed.

I zoned out completely as I thought back to my own mother and how she made sure to tell me I was her princess every day.

“Every princess has a back story, and every story has a villain” she’d say while combing out the tangles in my long strawberry tresses.

I’d sit quietly thinking over her words before carefully asking, “doesn’t that make you a queen?”

When she didn’t answer back, I’d always continue with my questions of why she didn’t have a castle and where was her good prince. Our small two-bedroom apartment was far from the gorgeous places that the princesses lived in and even at my young age I knew that her boyfriend Roger was far from a prince.

Usually, she wouldn’t answer. She’d finish my hair, place my tiara on top, and then push me towards the small pink table in the corner of the room so that I could color while she busied herself. However, it was one day in particular, just before my seventh birthday, when she finally revealed her big secret.