Hey, diary. I’ve never tried this before, but here we go! I feel like no one ever really hears my thoughts, only my titles and mindless rumors. I’m the “queen,” the “mother of kings,” but I’m also a troublemaker and a very dangerous woman. People claim I carry sooo much pride, with just too much ambition for a mere female, regardless of anything I was born into. They think that because I wear a crown, you know, I live with endless freedom and make crazy, raunchy decisions, regardless of the consequences. But I know that basically 100% of the time, my life is shaped by what a woman is “supposed” to be, and what I’m painted to be. I may hold some power, but even I am held in right in place. I feel like I carry the weight of the world but am held to the expectations of a silent wife.
Most people expect a certain soft and motherly nature from me, but I barely raised my children with my own two hands. I mean, it’s not completely unusual for a woman of my rank. I guess it’s just simply how things are done. Wet-nurses fed them, clerks taught them, and the knights even prepared my sons for war. I was supposed to give birth, recover, and then hand the child to others who basically shaped them into who they are today. Sometimes I wonder if people think a mother is only useful for making more heirs... I know Louis VII did! I love my children, but I see them less often than people might imagine. We’re separated by travel and politics more than our own personal choice. I never see my whole family at once, ohhh would that be rich. It feels strange to say, but most mothers like me spend more time sending letters about their children than actually even speaking to them. I wish things could change… maybe then people would stop complaining about my own complaining.
People sure do love to judge me for that. They whisper that I abandoned my daughters with Louis when our marriage ended, but honestly what was I supposed to do? They were raised just as any princess should’ve and had been! I still sometimes think about how little control I had (and still have). Even as a mother, I didn’t own the right to keep my daughters by my side.
Sometimes I think people forget that queens are vulnerable too. When Henry and I argue it goes straight to gossip. When I support my sons in rebellion I get called a scheming traitor! A mother who sides with her children is described as dangerous. A father who does the same is strong, and oh so very smart. It sucks to know the same actions are regarded so differently just because I’m a woman. Yes, I’ve been angry with Henry, and yes, I wanted my sons to have the best titles they could. But Henry held power close to himself, and quite selfishly at that, even when the boys were old enough to rule themselves. I will always support my sons, and for that, I face the consequences. You know, being locked away? Not so fun. A king can wage a war on his sons. I don’t see them being punished. Instead, I stay locked away. And for what?
People think I’m just sooo scandalous. They claim that I turned Aquitaine into some flirtatious place that reflects me in all my sin. I know stories have grown and twisted every which way, and I can’t stop it. What I can do though, is tell the truth of how it felt to be those rumors. I was judged so much worse than Henry ever was, even though he made so many mistakes. At least I have the guts to be bold! What could I do to satisfy the world? Honestly, probably nothing.
All us women must appear loyal and submissive, even when we are just as intellectually capable as men. When I used my power, people claim that I overstep. Like in what world does that make sense? No one considers that maybe I, and so many other women, am simply doing my best inside the walls built around us.
I know how people see us women. “Were made for marriage, alliances, and children.” Well, I disagree. Why do our feelings matter less than the heirs we produce and the peace we can create by being married off? I’m so angry, even I’ve learned to hide it (you know, somewhat). Mothers do love their children, even if we can’t raise them every day. It’s not like any of that is up to choice anyway.
It's not like anyone’s reading my diary, but I wish someone could understand how heavy the weight of these expectations can be. I may have been born into a slightly better life than most, but I’m still a woman in the same world as all the others. I wish I could raise my children myself, and not for politics, for comfort. I wish I could marry who I love, and that every choice I made didn’t backfire like I just threatened the state of the whole entire world.
Maybe this diary thing will be therapeutic for me, I don’t really know. But for now, I’m just Eleanor. I’m technically locked away physically, but I’m really locked away mentally too.
Written: 1181
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