On Being a Princess…

It’s been a beautiful week in South Carolina, and a few days ago, I took advantage of that by going for a nice 5.5 mile run after work. I get off work by 4:30 every day, so I still have plenty of daylight to get the miles in, and with the temperatures we’ve had lately, I really don’t have an excuse to get on the hamster wheel treadmill.

On my way inside to shower, I noticed a couple of kids running on my gym’s outdoor track. I saw a little girl, maybe 9 or 10, who was racing her little brother. I guess he was around 6 or 7, still close enough in age and young enough that they could play together. I always smile when I see kids out running- obviously, I coach cross country and track and like it when kids get into running early, but it’s good to see kids doing anything physical these days. The little girl and her brother went inside the gym shortly after me.

I was walking into the locker room when I noticed the little girl behind me. Keep in mind, I don’t know this little girl. I don’t know who her parents were, except that they’re gym members, and she was NOT a kid I’ve coached or ever seen at a race- just a random little girl playing. Then, our conversation started- a conversation that’s been heavy on my mind for the past few days.

Girl: Are we the same height?

Me (Looking at girl): Nope hun, you’re shorter than me. But don’t worry, you still have a few years to grow. I’m not so lucky.

Girl: Oh, okay. Yeah, you’re short. Stating the obvious here…

Me: Yep, sure am.

Girl: You know, you should go to Disney World and be a princess.

Me: Why thanks, but I live here. I’m a little befuddled.

Girl: All of the princesses are short. And you’re pretty, the princesses are pretty. I think you’d make a great princess. Especially if you know how to dance.

Me: Not really a dancer, I just run.

Girl: Well, they can teach you how to dance. All you have to do is flap your arms, anyway. You should do it, you’d be good at it. I hope I’m not offending you. Am I offending you? This girl is starting to remind me of a character from the Snoopy/Peanuts TV specials at this point.

Me: Nope, not offended at all. Thanks for the compliment.

I headed off to the shower, cleaned up, came home, and posted the experience on facebook. I thought it was kind of funny and sweet, but also ironic since the Disney Princess Half Marathon is also this weekend.

I don’t know how tall princesses are or if they can dance. When I was a kid, I really wasn’t into princesses. I liked Disney, but I liked Mickey Mouse, Duck Tales, Chip and Dale Rescue Rangers, Darkwing Duck, Gummi Bears, things like that. I’m clearly no girly girl, but maybe we’re all princesses.

Maybe a princess doesn’t chase Prince Charming- maybe she’s a strong, athletic female who passes him on a track.

A princess might not sing with animals in the forest, but she might volunteer at the animal shelter, foster a guide dog, or adopt a pet who would otherwise face a bleak existence (or worse).

Most princesses don’t live in castles. We live in homes that we try to keep clean and welcoming, even if we sometimes fail miserably at this due to long hours at work, kids, jobs, and life.

We don’t serve kingdoms or have knights to protect us, but some of us do have husbands who we think of as knights in shining armor, even when they’re wearing an old football t-shirt and boxers on the couch. Or maybe we don’t have a knight- that’s fine too. Maybe we have another princess, which is also totally cool.

Princesses don’t always ride in chariots or horse drawn carriages. We drive used cars we paid cash for, cars we saved to make down payments on, hand-me-down cars we’re grateful for, or cars we worked our butts off to buy.

Ladies, maybe we can do something that inspires our next generation- whether it’s raising our own kids, teaching or coaching, mentoring, volunteering, or just having a casual conversation with a little girl. Maybe we can all… be princesses.

Even if we’re not short. Or can’t dance.