“Where is my prince charming?”. A question that even at the tender age I pondered after watching Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. I am a beautiful black girl and I wanted a Prince. I wanted to be rescued because I was also a black girl in poverty. Am I a Princess if I am poor? Am I a Princess if I am Black? Am I Princess if I am a black without a daddy in the home? Where is the King of the castle to protect me from the jokers?

Poor black girls without active fathers are want to feel like Princesses, but are told they are not worthy. We are told that we are not Princesses because we are black and dark. I was told this by three white girls in day care. “Black girls aren’t Princesses”. That’s what they told me. I am told this because I am Poor. Poor girls are handmaidens and slaves. They work in the Kingdoms, they don’t own any land or homes. We work to get what we need. Black girls learn this at a young age. NO ONE ONE IS COMING TO SAVE YOU BUT JESUS. This is what we are taught. But did Jesus save black girls in the Bible? Is he Prince Charming? When is he coming? Does God care about black girls? Is this why we have to be magic?

Again the question comes: “Where is my prince charming?”. I remember as a little girl singing “some day my Prince will come”. I had dreams about being rescued by a Prince. This not only became a dream but an aspiration. I learned at a young age that Princess had to be beautiful. A beauty standard was set for me, but all the Princesses where white. By the time I saw a black Princess I was an adult. So the standard of beauty for me was white. Despite my mother parading me with black baby dolls to remind me of my beauty, I didn’t see the experiences of black girls being treated like princesses. I had to see the treatment. What was programming my mind was images of white girls being treated like Royalty. Let’s not even discuss how we saw our mothers, aunts and sisters treated.

I was wishing for Prince Charming but in my reality one does not exist for me. The possibility of an average poor dark skin black girl being rescued is well below other women that are placed on the patriarchal scale of worth. Though I am value, in patriarchy my worth is not high enough to be rescued. I learned this at a young age. I have to rescue myself. I can’t depend on Prince Charming, because most charming men I know are pimps and players. I can’t rely on my brother’s to save me when they uphold the bro code before me. I can’t rely on a King to protect me when my own father abandoned me. I can’t trust God because the Bible says HE, and HE has failed me. What Am I to Do?

I stopped believing in fairy tales. I learn that the goal is to strive to be the best woman I can be. I already have a crown and it’s in the curls of my natural hair. You don’t have to call me a Queen, just treat me like Royalty. You don’t have to recuse me, just support my dreams. You don’t have to fight for me, just stay in my corner. You don’t have to be charming, just be yourself. You don’t have to be God, just be my Man. A Grown Ass Man with his shit together. I stopped believing in fairytales. I am no longer looking for Prince Charming. And this still makes me worthy as any Princess, any Queen, and Godddess.

What I have been taught by my mama as a little black girl is that I am dark and beautiful, not dark, but beautiful. I was taught to love the skin I am in. I was taught the pain of my racial and sexual history. I was taught our triumphs. I was taught that relationships are hard work and EVERYONE has to do do their part. I was taught that hard work will get you results. You can only play Princess sometimes, but the goal is to be a Grown Ass Woman first. What I wish I was also taught is that there is no such thing as Prince Charming. Don’t go looking for him, fall in love with yourself first. Put yourself first. Cherish yourself first.

Looking back on my life, maybe I should of put myself first.