Queen B*tch

I began watching the 7th season of Once Upon a Time recently, and was telling a friend how a part of me envies the bitches.

There’s a new character (not the above pictured; I just love the Evil Queen costumes!) who, judging by the little we see, owns some kind of real estate business where she has a large office on a top floor, tall wooden doors that are frequently thrown open with drama, and tailored outfits that could bounce an Army quarter.

She’s fierce, in the meaning of the word that isn’t reserved for drag queens, but in the unforgiving, unflinching, unquestioning, decisive, detached sense of it.

This character doesn’t pause to consider sides, to consider another’s humanity or perspective, to question whether her judgments are just or kind or evil.

She just does.

And there is such freedom in that!!!!  Or, so my poor heart would have me believe.  (Though maybe it’s my ego.)

What a welcome relief to live in a tower of righteousness and galling assertion, to scatter minions with a sharp word, to know with formidable certainty that what you want will be attended to with efficiency and unflagging effort by others.

BUT, I told my friend, the evil queens always die.

They’re always alone in that tower.  No one has compassion for them, as they don’t for anyone.  An oak will topple in a storm where a reed will survive.

There is, of course, strength and wisdom in being a reed, but oh, the majesty of being an oak!

This human thing is hard.  It necessitates humility and compassion and acceptance of the sort that makes a heart pump with ache.

But this human thing also opens the gates for connection and support that makes a heart pump with love.

Thus is the curse of living outside the tower, and (as you already know) thus is the blessing.

Besides which: I don’t need to be a Bitch Queen to wear fierce outfits.