|
Joséphine
Eléonore Marie Pauline de Galard de Brassacede Béarn, princesse de Broglie (*) |
Nothing
is ever as glamorous as it seems. Take
for example my wedding day. On film it
was a veritable fairytale event. That is
mostly because everthing was prepared with military precision. Including my hair, dress and make-up. I did not have any say in the style or color
of my own wedding gown, the guests to be invited or which of my family would be
allowed to attend or not. But I was
floating on a cloud of love and excitement.
I was marrying my prince (in my case, a real prince) and on my wedding
day I was to be the centre of attention (like all other brides on their wedding
day.)
Nothing
changed after that. I almost never saw
my prince. He was busy with affairs of
state and a myriad diplomatic catastrophes had to be averted. I was constantly surrounded by an army of
assistants telling me what to wear, where to be, what to say, what not to
do. I could not stay home (which is a
sumptuous palace in a fairytale setting) on a morning when I was feeling ill,
because it would never do to disappoint
the public. When it was ascertained that
I was pregnant, there was no jubilation.
Only more rules and assistants with advise. No one must even get a wiff of the fact that
I am pregnant, until such time as it seemed nothing will go wrong. New clothes were ordered, to hide my growing
bump. I could the see the pride and love
in my prince’s eyes. And that was when I
made a decision. To leave. Being a princess is not all it’s cracked up
to be.[1]
I have
one good friend in this place. The
priest. He is everyone’s friend. I guess he knows what everyone in this place
is going through. His advise (yes, more advise) was – if I leave I will loose
my child. My baby is a born royal and as
such will stay a royal. The child does
not have a choice. In essence – I did
not have a choice. He told me that a woman’s natural role is to be a pillar of
the family.[2]
And
I understood at once. I have a role to
play. An important role. Much like every other mother and wife. I am
basically a feminist. I think that woman can do anything they decide to do.[3]
Thus my decision has been made. Getting
angry doesn’t solve anything.[4] I knew what I had to do.
It
took months. I hired my own personal
assistant and butler. People I knew I could trust. I kept myself grounded by making time for my not-royal-family
at least once every two weeks. I hired
experts to teach me protocol, royal etiquette and all the rest. My prince was born to this life. I married into it without any understanding
beyond the fairytale. The reality was no
fairytale. Yet, you don’t get anything for nothing. Everything has to be earned,
through work, persistance and honesty.[5]
I
don’t want to be a princess who sits on the sidelines; I want to be present and
actively involved. It’s a life with a purpose.[6]
I have
learned, If you find someone you love in
your life, then hang on to that love.[7] For me, that is a prince, with all that comes
with it. I guess the same applies to a doctor’s wife and so forth. You adapt. Family is the most important thing in the world.[8]
And part of my family happens to be a very prominent royal family. Who accepted me by allowing my prince to
marry me. Now I cannot disappoint them or let them (or my own family) down. I have realised that at the end of the day, the position is just a position, a title is just
a title, and those things come and go. It’s really your essence and your values
that are important.[9] In the end I want
my husband to say I have been a good wife and my child that I am a good, loving
mother. To be a good wife to my husband,
I must be a good princess. And that I
will be. Even though being a princess is overrated.[10]
Thus I
became who I am today. A wife my husband
is proud of and a mother who loves her child very much. At home we are just mom, dad and a little
boy. To my parents I am still their only daughter and just that. To the public
we are the royal family.
I
follow advise. But in the end I only do what my heart tells me.[11]
And set an example to all woman and girls out there. After all, I am a princess.
[1] Her Royal Highness, Princess Dianna of Wales.
[2] Her Royal Highness, Princess Grace of Monaco.
[3] Her Royal Highness, Princess Grace of Monaco.
[4] Her Royal Highness, Princess Grace of Monaco.
[5] Her Royal Highness, Princess Grace of Monaco.
[6] Her Royal Higness, Princess Charlene of Monaco.
[7] Her Royal Highness, Princess Dianna of Wales.
[8] Her Royal Highness, Princess Dianna of Wales.
[9] Her Majesty, Queen Rania of Jordan.
[10] Her Majesty, Queen Rania of Jordan.
[11] Her Royal Highness, Princess Dianna
(*) This
painting of Joséphine Eléonore Marie Pauline de Galard de Brassacede Béarn, princesse
de Broglie, is Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres’ last
commissioned portrait of a female sitter. A member of the most cultivated
circles of the Second Empire, the princess was renowned for her great beauty as
well as her reserve, both qualities captured in this portrait. The princesse de
Broglie died of consumption at the age of thirty-five. Her bereaved husband
kept this portrait behind draperies in perpetual tribute to her memory. It
remained in the family until shortly before it was acquired by Robert Lehman
and retains the original, ornately carved frame that Ingres himself selected.
(The Metropolitan Museum of Art)
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