In the early 2000’s, an elementary school-aged Yasmine read her way through the biography of the tall, blond bombshell-haired Prince of England, William, in a book very aptly titled, “Prince William W.O.W.” I read through it, fascinated by the beautiful English prince and the story of his family, from his mother Princess Diana to his great-great-great-great-great-great grandmother Elizabeth I. Even at that young age, I envisioned myself as a beautiful bride in ivory, a long train following after me while daisies were being dropped by my feet as I neared towards my throne-wielding future husband under the rainy, ashen skies of England. This fantasy practically ignored the fact that there was more melanin in my skin than of the women who typically walked down the aisle to marry British Royalty. And I can’t say that even after I had this realization and the wedding of Prince William that I did not still have hope that somehow, somewhere, I would fall into the arms of Prince Harry and become the first brown, first American Princess.
But now, there is Meghan Markle and not only is she fulfilling my every childhood wish, but she is marking her place in history for many little girls whose families don’t come from the Colonial-type home lining Cape Cod. Her ancestry is not rich with blue, with the smell of crisp green. Instead, Meghan Markle has the same blend as America’s beloved President (the only one we recognize currently); cafe au lait tones her skin, an advocate for the advancement of gender equality, as she ardently fights for equality of women’s rights while the blood of enslaved Africans once colonized and captured by British slavers ran through her veins. Markle is college-educated and uses her degree to combat the world’s sins when she isn’t gracing our television screens as a paralegal on the critically acclaimed Suits. Oh, and did we mention that she’s girlfriends with some of our favorite badass women, Serena Williams and Priyanka Chopra? Can you imagine what their wine nights are like?
My heart was overjoyed when I woke up on Monday morning to the news that Prince Harry had decided to jump the broom with Meghan Markle and not because of my very lowkey obsession with the Royal Family and their weddings, but because, as odd as it may have seemed, the window of opportunity and tolerance in the world seemed to be remedying itself. Amongst xenophobic policies that are slithering their ways over the tables of our governments, the hateful rhetoric in the West against anyone from outside of Europe essentially, stories of female genital mutilation, sexual assault, and wage gaps persist, it was refreshing to read the headline of the Windsor-Markle matrimony.
As a young American woman of color, I felt a glimmer of hope — that the unthinkable (the good kind of unthinkable), could occur even amidst apparent conflict and controversy. The entire purpose of the engagement of Meghan Markle and Prince Harry is love, nothing more, nothing less and the sanctity of that is so pure that there are no other options but to feel wonderful about the situation. Love is what has brought these two together, but more importantly remained together and challenged the adversity that anyone, especially the most influential Western monarchy.
Even as a little girl, I saw myself reflected in Princess movies as the sidekick best friend (Princess Diaries 2) or a cooking, singing, Bayou babe (Princess and the Frog), but for once, someone whose parentage was more accurate of the parentage of an increasing number of American children was finally the protagonist – the Princess herself.
Now, whether or not Meghan will be an actual Princess or not is a technicality that in terms of her social and cultural impact will matter little. She will be regarded as such because of the significance of her marriage and while it may seem rather counterintuitive to praise a feminist for being a feminist while also praising her for the man who she marries, there is without a doubt something to be said about the matrimony itself and our American Princess.
I woke up at 4a.m. to see William marry a commoner, so you’ll bet I will have a party for the biracial American actress Meghan Markle’s marriage to some bloke called Harry.