Queen
A homemaker’s awakening to her own vastness
They called me Queen
It was a kind title. Sweet
“Queen of the kitchen,” “Queen of the house,” “Queen of multitasking.”
And for a while, I accepted it with a grateful smile
But today, as I stand in the middle of this home,
I know something deeper:
I am not just the queen
I am the kingdom itself
I am the floor that absorbs every tantrum
I am the walls that witness every birthday, every breakdown
I am the roof that shelters unspoken dreams
I am the air, the silence, the rhythm of this place
My love doesn’t just sit on a throne
It seeps through the folded towels
It hums in the kitchen before sunrise
It lingers in the curry, the comfort, the conversations
I am not managing this home
I am the energy it runs on
Every decision I make echoes
What I cook, what I forgive, what I celebrate, what I protect—
It all becomes the atmosphere that my children breathe
The background music to my husband’s rest
The soil from which memories grow
And that is no small thing
A queen may rule with wisdom
But a kingdom?
It holds everything
**I am the warmth in the blanket
The prayer in the rice
The laughter tucked between pillow covers
The peace no one can quite explain, but everyone feels.**
I used to think I had to become something
More confident. More skilled. More “out there.”
But I see now—I was never missing
I was always here
Soft. Strong. Silent. Present
**So no, I don’t wear a crown
Because I am the crown
I don’t just carry a home
I am the home.**
I don’t rule from the centre
I am the centre
**I am not just a queen—
I am the kingdom.**
And I will never underestimate myself again
until next time, keep smiling
much love … stay happy … stay blessed … always
SMITHA
Discover more from REFLECT WITH SMITHA
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.