if the crown fits... 337/366

Can I take a few minutes and be very vulnerable and transparent? I am not looking for anyone to feel sorry for me and this is not a pity party, it is a wake up call I wasn't looking for and this is a place to process. 

I've been volunteering at the Mission Thrift Store often. I enjoy organizing things and keeping the books in order-it's odd, I know, but for me it is therapeutic. It's also like opening a grab bag of surprises every time I go. You just never know what you will find in the bags and boxes and totes that people fill and donate.

Today, after hours, as Anita and I were getting to leave I saw this:

Flippantly I picked it up, placed it on my head and said; "If the crown fits..."

Anita responded with "yes!" She wanted to take a picture of me wearing it, saying "this will be your blog post tonight!"

I laughed, shrugged my shoulders and refused the picture she suggested, internally shaking my head because I had absolutely no intention of writing about a tiara today or any other day. Tiaras and crowns have no place in my wardrobe and very limited use in my vocabulary.

As we stood there a few more minutes I felt like I'd been hit upside the head with a 2x4 with the realization that I am only comfortable with half of who I claim to be, what I have taught numerous times, in various settings to girls and women of all ages:

"We are daughters of the King of Kings. That makes us royalty. Princesses. But we are not ivory tower, shut off from the world women. We are called to strap on the armor of God and take our stand against the devil and evil. That makes us warriors as well. We are called to be Princess Warriors."

I have experience in and am completely at home in the role of warrior. I won't go looking for a fight, (unless you hurt or threaten someone I love) but I rarely back down from one. I have the scars to prove it. I am not ashamed of them and I don't try to hide them. I'm not a hard hearted warrior, intent on causing harm. I'm an empathetic warrior. I'll walk alongside you in your battle. 

I fight for what is good and right and pleases God. 

Princess? My dad convinced me I was one. I was secure and comfortable in that role. Until an offhand comment from him when I was about 13 stripped me of all self confidence and left me reeling about who I was and what my worth was. I spent several years trying to find love and acceptance in all the wrong ways and places. Eventually healing and forgiveness took place. I know my value and worth come from who God says I am-and He calls His beloved. I am royalty. I am a warrior. I am a Warrior Princess. 

But today when I refused to allow Anita to take my picture a truth flashed through my head: I wouldn't allow it because I don't want to be fake and I don't know how to be a princess. In fact, I am terrified to be a princess. Bring on the warrior role, but please don't ask me to put on a ball gown and dancing shoes and makeup and jewelry. I have absolutely no idea how to do any of those things well. I grew up a tomboy. I still am one. And I like it.

I know God looks at the heart and that a woman's beauty should come from the inside out. I have used that knowledge for years to excuse my lack of interest in embracing my femininity. But tonight I'm beginning to think, after 40 plus years, it may be time to begin to internalize the carefree confidence I once had about being a beautiful princess. I won't give up my jeans and t-shirts, but I may begin to learn how to accessorize. Maybe I'll go crazy, buy some mascara and actually use it... 

Warrior. 

Princess. 

I've heavily invested in the Warrior. 

It scares me spitless, but I think I need to begin to balance the scales.