You know the story – the emperor, not being the brightest daffodil in the flowerbed, gets swindled into paying out the treasury for super fancy “clothes” that only the most schmancy of individuals can see and thus ends up parading about his kingdom all nudie patootie-like. Until some kid says “But he’s NAKED!” and then everyone is ashamed. Or something like that.
There should be another story. We’ll call it: The Queen’s New Clothes. And it would be about a woman who reigns over a kingdom and who treasures her advisors so that, when they cast her in a roll that is comfortable for them and hand her the robes of that roll, she puts them on. No matter who it is or what the clothes look like. Until she’s wearing so many clothes that she can’t even move and none of them really look like her. They’re not cozy or soft – they’re itchy and scratchy and she’d like very much not to be wearing 1000 pounds of clothing, if that’s okay with everyone.
So she casts them off, one by one. The disrobing makes people uncomfortable and angry, because it indicates that this particular royal highness is no longer going to be defined by their wishes. She might not be playing the role they want her to play – she’s certainly no longer dressing the part. Some of the advisors will leave, infuriated and disappointed, because they no longer have the image that they wished to have before them. Some will turn away in shame as she strips down, afraid of what they will see at the end.
But when she is dressed as she WISHES to dress, as she becomes who she wants to be, as she shows who she is and no longer tries to be the person everyone else wanted to mold her into, she becomes more lovely. Sure, some people walked away from her. But the ones who stayed show themselves truly worthy of trust and affection and now, comfortable and at peace, she can rule her kingdom well.
Just as she is. Just WHO she is. Unafraid to be as simple or as complicated as she wants, unfettered by the roles and costumes that don’t work for her.
All hail the Queen.