THE CROWN FOUND ME.

It was Mother’s Day, and something in me felt… hollow.
Like something sacred needed to be released.

I stepped outside and looked up—and there she was.

The Scorpio full moon.
Dancing in the water as I gazed at it felt like a release.

She abused the child out of me years ago.
So on Mother’s Day, I don’t celebrate.
I grieve.

And that night, I went outside to release.
Under the Scorpio moon.
The moon of death. Of rebirth. Of transformation.

I felt something in me dying.
Something old. Something inherited.
Something I never chose.

A once-sweet mother who turned cold?
No.
I never had one to begin with.

I had an older sister who bullied me.
I had neglect.
And a few days after my father died, I had a woman who looked me in the face with a smirk and said—

“Why did he have to die on my birthday, why couldn’t he die in March?”

That was her goodbye.
That was what she had to offer a grieving daughter.

Not love. Not warmth. Just ego.

Words no child should ever hear.

Especially not from the only parent they have left.
Especially not during the rawest grief of their life.
But that was her truth.
And it cut way deeper than the funeral.

Because my father?
He was the only one who ever truly protected me.
The only one who loved me without question—even in my worst moments.
Even when I couldn’t love myself.

And after he died…
I had nothing left to shield me from her.

So when he died, it wasn’t just grief.
It was exposure.
It was orphan energy, in full.

Still, I carried it with grace.
Still, I grieved in silence.

So on that night, I chose to mourn the mother I deserved.

I chose to honor the real mother—those who lives in spirit, not in my memories.
The one I trust to guide me now. 

Mother Nature/the Moon and my nurturing ancestors. 

The mother in me.

A week later—on May 19th—I was in a hotel after staying at an airbnb for a while.
Something about that moment felt... like limbo.
I was supposed to end my grief-cation but I could feel the pause was intentional.
Like spirit wouldn’t let me move forward until I learned something that will change my path to go ‘home’.

I was on my phone, about to search something—can’t even remember what.

I typed it in, scrolled for a bit, and then something happened.

Something pulled me.
A spirit.
Like a hand moved mine.

I scrolled all the way down.
Not to the answer I was looking for—
But to the bottom of the search results.
To where it showed what county I was in.

I didn’t think much of it at first, just saw:
Mecklenburg County, NC.

And something in me stopped.

Because I’m not in Mecklenburg County.
And yet… I was.
Something was off about that.

I wasn’t even on the northeast side where that would sort of make sense.

I was on the southwest side of Florida.

So my curious nature prompted me to search.
Mecklenburg.
Why does that name sound like something?

And suddenly I wasn’t just on my phone anymore—
I was in a portal.

Charlotte of Mecklenburg-Strelitz.

The county was named after her. So now I’m intrigued. I click on her—and her birthday?

May 19th.
The same day I found her.
The same day I was feeling pulled deeper into this strange emotional current.

Now this wasn’t new to me - I’m used to randomly being intrigued by someone and finding out it would’ve been their 124th birthday that day, or looking up something that pops up the next day. 

But this was not this. 

Because her date of death?

November 17th.

The same day we said goodbye to my loving Father.

That’s when the rabbit hole swallowed me.

I start clicking on names.

Charlotte’s father: February 23rd. Pisces.

His mother? March 13th. Pisces.

Her father? January 6th.

MY father’s birthday.

I swear I stopped breathing for a second.

Then I keep going, still shocked, still following names like they were past lives calling me back.
I find her son, Octavius—also born February 23rd. Another Pisces.

Out of curiosity, I click on Octavius’s godparents, not expecting anything.
And then I find her:

Princess Philippine Charlotte of Prussia.

Her image stopped me cold that I completely dropped my phone out of fear and shock.

She looked like me in a very strange way although it’s a white woman.

And her birthday?

March 13th.
Again.

I didn’t search for this. I wasn’t doing some family tree game. I wasn’t even thinking about royalty.

This all came from noticing the name of a county I wasn’t even in.
That’s what makes it so wild.

It was spirit.
It was blood.
It was memory wrapped in data.

Even crazier—I had never watched Bridgerton.

I just found out this show is literally based on Charlotte of Mecklenburg’s life, out of all royal women they could’ve chose.
I knew of it, seen a few 5-10 second clips on Twitter.
One of my favorite singers, Tori Kelly, sang a song from it: “All I Want.”
I even sang it and surprisingly posted it on TikTok once.
I forgot all about that moment of bravery because the song spoke to me so much that I had to express it vocally.

“Bet that I would find you in every lifetime...”
A lyric that now reads like prophecy.

And then it got deeper.

A name that echoed louder than I expected: Charlotte again.

“DARK.” The German show that I felt so pulled to rewatch after 4 years. 

Where Charlotte is a central character.
Where Mikkel becomes Michael - the boy who disappears, only to grow up as someone else.
And the date that everything in the show begins unraveling?

November 4th.
The day my father died.
The suicide. The timelines. The grief that spirals.
All of it mirrored something ancient in me.

It tripped me out so much, that I simply waited to see what it all meant for me instead of searching for answers.

Now I have them. 

This wasn’t a coincidence.

It was confirmation.

Confirmation of all the current paths, signs and past memories I’ve had.

That I’ve always carried something royal inside me.
That my grief isn’t a curse—it’s an inheritance.
That the things I’ve survived didn’t destroy me…
They crowned me.

You don’t have to be born in a palace to hold lineage.
You don’t need a coronation to be chosen.

Sometimes your spirit is so ancient, even Google can’t explain how it remembers where to take you.
But it does.
And when it does… all you can do is answer.

The Most High and your ancestors will always call you back to yourself.

She was crowned a queen with no parents at her side.
That’s when it hit me—I’ve been grieving my own version of this.

I finally understand and see my power as the royalty he always instilled in me, now that he’s gone.

I always knew I’d end up eloping instead of a big wedding because I wouldn’t have anyone besides my brother to share it with.

I’ve been carrying myself through ‘orphan’ energy for a long time.

And no one really knew, even when they claim to understand.

But thankfully, I now understand what truly matters in life.

It’s becoming an alchemist—being strong enough to turn all your despair into power.

In a spiritual tone, Charlottle means to possess an unwavering inner strength, capable of overcoming obstacles and embracing freedom. 

All I used to say is that I want to be free.

Free from my life in the most negative way.

But now, it’s so positive. 

I want to be free in the sense I feel so light in life, no matter the obstacles or pain I’ve endured.

It’s not about who doesn’t get you or even who did,

It’s about how you love you.

What can you do to set yourself free? 

I’m not choosing to hold onto pain and harbor it, I choose to live through it.

Grief is the highest form of love for someone, but I’ll take it up a notch by stepping out of my father’s princess, to a resilient Queen. 

Love for myself and showing up how he wanted me to in this realm for the world is enough. 

So much that instead of choosing 6 feet under,
I choose 6 feet above.

The Crown Found Me.

And I remember now, & never will I forget.

I love you, Daddy. Thank You.

Rest in Royalty, ‘Prince’ but my King.