She was a fierce ice queen, manipulating the patriarchy to play by her rules, creating the new status quo, demanding respect and earning her keep by not allowing any man to belittle her place.

Growing up, her mother had always pushed her to win the game: hustle the hustlers, so that she will never have to rely on a man for survival. Utilize being the underdog, make them anticipate weakness and failure, and surprise them with her strength. She was shown no love other than taught the love for money--like mother like daughter, she became heartless, which is how she built her empire, leading a business to the top of its line, pulling in multi-millions a year.

She was unmatched. At the top of her staff were powerful women: a female-led business, with bathrooms cleaned by men. The patriarchy bent at her step. There was nothing left in life for her to achieve, she had officially hustled the hustlers.

That was the case, at least. Now, still icy and cold, she is no longer the queen: the business had run dry, and she had to let all her employees go--from the powerful women to the men on their knees. She has nothing; no business, no power, no money. She is officially bankrupt.

Living on scraps from the money she had saved when she realized everything was going south, she was selfish enough to give no money back to her employees and keep only enough for her to afford rent for another month.

With no hope and too much pride to succumb to working a minimum wage job, she has nothing left to live for. She has no will to restart her business from scratch, especially after a huge failed attempt. She lost everything.

She climbs the stairs to her apartment, finding an eviction notice posted on the door. Screaming, she tears down the offensive orange sheet and bursts straight to the bathroom.

Staring at her reflection, pills in hand, she was ready. She had been hustled by the patriarchy. With no family left and nothing to live for, she knows what she wants to do.

She's transported to her teenage bedroom, in this same position after that one, stupid soccer girl broke her heart. Her final year of high school had been wasted on a petty relationship; she lost focus of her studies and her extracurriculars, seemingly ruining her entire future all because she thought she found love. She swore, on this day forth, she would never give anyone the power to break her like this again.

And yet, here she lays cold on her bathroom floor: a lesbian, fucked by the patriarchy, ready to commit suicide because she lost to the White Man.

Four days later, waist deep in medical bills from her attempted suicide, she wakes up in the hospital. Strangers stand by her bedside, glad to see she had woken up, yet returning to their jobs without a blink because other lives were more important now that she's awake.

Weeks later, she is medically cleared to begin work again. So here she is, folding clothes in the back of Target, not knowing who she is anymore. A former multimillionaire, succumbing to the terrors of the patriarchy. This is not who she was meant to be.

Who would've known that the Target bathroom, at the end of her 16 hour shift, would be the spot she found love?

Another woman walks in. She holds her daughter's hand, guiding the toddler into the bathroom. The ice queen is bent over the sink, sobbing tears into the drain.

A tap on her back.

She sucks up her tears, turns around, and finds a soccer player standing right next to her. She couldn't have been more than five years old.

"When I play soccer, I don't feel like a princess. So my mom always lets me put on my crown after the game, because strong girls can be princesses too." Handing her a tiara three sizes too small for her head, the soccer player grabs her mom's hand and leaves the bathroom. The ice queen never saw them again.

She holds this crown tight: strong girls can be princesses too. Walking home, she puts the tiny tiara on her large head and keeps her chin up.

She signs up for classes to achieve her Masters degree. She was hustled once, that doesn't mean she has to let it happen again.

Staring back in the mirror, a girl in a red button up, khakis, and a cheap, plastic tiara smiles. She is not ice, she is only a queen. And she holds true to her vow: nobody will ever have the power to break her, because she has learned to love herself enough to put herself back together.