It's a universal truth that most little girls at one point in their young lives wanted to grow up and become a princess. At five, Emma learned she'd never be one.
Emma twirled around the bathroom wearing her best Sunday School dress gazing in the full length mirror in the bathroom. A towel was draped over her head that flowed down her back which she imagined was silky blonde hair. In her mind, she was beautiful and one day she'd meet a handsome prince who would fall madly in love with her. They'd live in a huge castle and live happily ever after just like in the picture books and on television.
Emma hummed, so lost in the daydream of how perfect her life would be when she was a princess that she didn't hear the bathroom door open. A loud cackling laugh broke her out of her daydream.
She turned around to see Lisa, her older sister, standing in the doorway eating a red ice pop. Mama had already said Emma couldn't have one. Emma wasn't given a reason why, but she knew when Mama said no, there was no point in arguing unless Emma wanted a whuppin'. Lisa made a show of licking the icy treat to show off that she had something Emma wanted.
"How come you get one and I don't?" Emma demanded, putting her hands on her hips.
Lisa took another long, exaggerated lick of the ice pop. "Mmmmm. This is sooo good. You didn't get one because you're a big dummy, that's why. And what are you doing in your Sunday clothes? Mama's gonna get you."
"You gonna tell on me?" Emma pulled the towel off her head in a hurry.
"I might not, if you tell me what you were doing."
"Playing princess. I'm going to be a princess when I grow up. Just like Cinderella."
Seven year old Lisa sighed in with another roll of her eyes. "You're an even bigger dummy than I thought if you think you can be a princess. You'll never be a princess."
"Can too!" Emma said with indignation.
"No, you can't. You're not the princess type."
Emma narrowed her eyes. "What's the princess type?"
"Pretty, with long hair and light eyes like me." Lisa fluttered the green eyes that family members gushed over and flipped the long braid over her shoulder that Emma had heard so many people refer to as good hair.
Emma's hands flew to her own short plaits self-consciously. How many times had Mama lamented over what she dubbed Emma's 'devil hair' She always tried so hard not to cry when Mama combed it and she wished just once, Mama would comb her hair with the loving care she did Lisa's.
Emma sighed, squaring her shoulders. "Well, I'll be a different type of princess."
Lisa snorted. "You're so stupid. You have eyes don't you? Can't you see you're too black and ugly to be a princess and you have nappy hair? Mama says it looks like a bird's nest."
"I am not ugly!" Emma screamed at her sister. Lisa somehow always managed to get her so mad.
"What the hell is going on in here? What's all this yelling for?" Mama stood in the doorway with her hands on her hips and her lips pursed. Her angry expression was focused directly on Emma.
Before Lisa could speak, Emma, blurted out, "Lisa said I was too black and ugly to be a princess. I can be a princess can't I, Mama?" Emma more than anything needed this validation from her mother, for a reason her five year old brain couldn't quite grasp yet.
