From A Queen In The Making, To A Queen Gone

Who were you? You owned corgies, you worked in the field during the war, but you refused to help so many when you could have with a literal wave of a wand.

You donated billions to charity but largely ignored Africa until it was time to visit, you stifled hundreds of thousands of people simply by your position, but you also inspired billions too.

You were a confusing woman who wasn’t born to be Queen, but became so by chance of fate, a choice? Were you ever given one? Would you have abdicated if you could have? Or was an embarrassment to the crown and to the family too important to you, to force you to do something you didn’t want?

Through film, news, and television, I’ve seen various sides of you displayed, but you as a woman confused the hell out of me. A definitive contradiction if there ever was one, you would be the prime example. You spent time with men who keep their daughters locked away, you fought for women’s rights.

You’ve been seen in the company of terrorists, but you said nothing about their crimes, meanwhile you worked in the shadows to prevent a world war from happening again, supporting Ukraine and speaking out against Putin, yet still, you’ve been seen with him too.

Who the fuck were you?

Black women everywhere despise you, and everything your position stood for, they have struggles separating the two, and why shouldn’t they? You are the throne, the throne is you. It’s not a chair, it’s a job, a position, a position chosen by God allegedly, even though it was a war that put your family as it is now, where they were over two hundred years ago. Yes, I’ve read my history.

In the days of old God would choose a warrior, who would declare war, and upon winning, would then declare themselves King by forcing all your people to surrender, but more than 100 years ago laws were put into place so that could never happen again. Ostentatiously because war kills millions, but in reality, it was to stop the stem of war, it was to ensure some calm and peace.

Your family is the last English Monarch family there will ever be, whatever comes next, all will be descended from you, making you the last reigning English Queen to have ever held the throne, and to be ensured that your legacy will last forever, because from here on out all future monarchies will have come from your bloodline. Bloody, amazing, as they say.

You are the only English Queen I’ve ever known in my life, and the world was so captivated by you, that I wasn’t allowed to learn about Indigenous royal families, Black ones, or even Jewish ones, there were Kings and Queens before you, but in our generation, you’re the one that matters.

Stories of your greatness and even your cruelty will be told for years to come, but I wonder, will they talk about your son? I’m not talking about the now and future King of England, and her contemporaries, I’m talking about the one that partied with the same pedophiles you welcomed not only into your house, and home, but into the world’s Castle?

Will they ignore that part in favour of your legacy? As a victim of childhood sexual abuse and the same kind of men that you drank champagne with while I was being abused, I feel I have a right to ask these questions, but I’m not supposed to because you’re dead, and I’m supposed to be polite.

I’m personally not sad you’re gone. You caused far too much hurt because you chose the institution over your own family, and yet part of me is sickened by the fact that you didn’t know any better because you were taught to choose the institution over your blood and I feel for you. Faction over Blood is a hell of a way to live.

Lots of people claim you as “theirs,” but I struggle with that as a mixed-race woman, I wonder right now as I write this, why I didn’t say anything sooner, but maybe it was because it wasn’t time, maybe it’s because I didn’t know how to answer all these questions.

I know now why you are the way you are, you were conditioned, brainwashed into believing you had power but didn’t really have power, that must have been very confusing for you, having to consistently choose the battles that you were publically allowed to fight. I’m not sorry for that, You could have chosen blood, you chose power.

May you rest in it.

Devon J Hall – The Loud Mouth Brown Girl