Nobody can deny that my daughter knows exactly what she wants.

The last time Skye and I were home visiting, she developed a new game. In this game she was the queen, and the rest of my family became her loyal and doting subjects. Except for my dad, who was lucky enough to be granted the part of king, the rest of us were given less glamorous roles. For example, my mom got to be “the guarder.”

For three days Skye wandered around the house with her head in the air and made commands. Everyone would answer with a respectful, “yes, your majesty,” then give her whatever she wanted. If she’d known better, she would have had us all down on hands and knees kissing her feet.

She didn’t give up the game when we got home, even though mommy wasn’t quite the model subject her grandparents had been.

So, I wasn’t really surprised when I asked her a month later what she wanted to be for Halloween, and she immediately shouted queen as a response.

The next time my mom came to visit she made sure to get her little queen the costume she wanted. Skye chose a Queen of Hearts costume, ridiculously fitting for her naturally bossy demeanor. When she tried it on, she walked around the house for an hour commanding her imaginary minions and shouting, “Off with their heads!”

I just couldn’t help but teach her the appropriate line to use when people displeased her.

I get a strange sense of enjoyment from watching my daughter march around commanding things to her will—and it’s not just because she’s commanding something other than me. While I get a kick out of her fiery spirit, there’s another reason I’m so supportive of her choice in costume this year.

Part of me just loves that she skipped right over wanting to be a princess, and went straight to being the queen. As silly as she looks doing it, I like that she demands to be worshipped. Because that’s exactly what she deserves.

The princess in the fairy tale is the damsel in distress, pretty much as a rule. She’s sitting in a tower somewhere, or a cabin in the woods, just waiting for the day when her prince will come and carry her away to happiness. She’s usually powerless to make her own life decisions, dependent on the will of a parent or fairy godmother to set her free. The queen on the other hand, she’s already the boss.

Of course chances are she may also be evil, but at least there’s nobody telling her what she can and cannot do.

That’s why the queen is the role model I really want for my daughter, the part I want her to play in her own fairy tale. I want her to demand the best, and be given it at every opportunity.

I want her to remember that she will always be the queen of my heart, and that she doesn’t need saving.

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About the Author

Morgan Armstad

Morgan Armstad is a part-time writer and waitress, as well as a full-time mom to her incredible daughter Skye. She loves to read, dance and eat Milano cookies. She graduated spring 2016 from the University of Montana in Missoula with a degree in journalism with a history minor. Morgan is currently working and writing at Mamalode magazine in Missoula and has written for the website VProud.