My first name is Sarah. It’s not a
secret. I put it on pretty much everything. I introduce myself as Sarah Kate—and
want to be called Sarah Kate—because Sarah is so common, and it’s less
confusing to have a differentiation. But my name is Sarah. It’s Hebrew; it was
the name of Abraham’s wife, and it means princess.
My mom used to call me that when I
was little. I’m her first daughter, and she used to tell me about how we once
promised to always be best friends. Before my baby sister was born, Mom would
tell Neenie and me stories about Princess Sarah the Brave and Princess Annie
the Kind. I was her princess, and she would always be telling me how beautiful
I was.
It’s been at least ten years since I
last heard a story about Princess Sarah. I’ve changed so much since then, and I’ve
learned so much about myself. I’ve learned that the reason I tap pens against
tables is because it keeps me focused. I’ve learned that it’s okay to cry
without a good reason. I’ve learned that I’m never really going to understand
people, but instead, I have the ability to just look at a set plan and know how
to put it together. I’ve learned that on the sliding scale of sexuality, I lean
more towards women, but that men are okay, too. I’ve learned that I do not fit
into a traditional gender role; I am gender neutral, and only seem more
masculine because I look female.
Princess Sarah wasn’t any of that.
She was very ladylike, though the most important thing in her life was keeping
her people safe from the dragons that would constantly plague the city that her
parents ruled. She had no romantic interest, in either boys or girls. She never cried, because she
was so brave. She always took care of her sister, Princess Annie, and she was
always so focused on saving everyone she could. And she always did; she would
save the day before anyone died, she was just that good.
I know now that I’m not going to save everyone
in the world; I’m not even going to be able to protect everyone in my reach. I
still try, though. I will always try to keep my friends afloat, to battle away
the dragons that plague them. I will always take care of my Neenie, even from
as far away as I am. Though I shake and tremble and occasionally have to
physically anchor myself to something to stop myself from running away, I do
the scary things, the uncomfortable things, the new things, the things no one
else will do and the things done in front of people, I stand up for others and
for myself, I put my trust in others when it would be so easy to just stay
jaded, I speak my mind and damn the consequences and no one ever knows how
absolutely paralyzed with terror I am at every moment I am doing it.
I am not the same Princess Sarah that
I was when I was eight, but I am
still Princess Sarah the Brave.
I’m still a princess.
