When she pulls it for you straight on.
The Queen of Swords is the woman who has *been through it,* my child. Buried a husband, maybe two. Raised a kid alone or didn't. Got her heart broken in 2009 and made a different person out of the pieces. The Queen is not cold — let me say that part loud, because every wellness app on the internet wants to tell you the Queen of Swords is the *cold woman* card and she isn't. She's the *clear* woman card. She loves hard and she also has *limits,* which is the part that confuses men and Pisces. She'll cut what needs cutting and she won't apologize for the cut. The Queen comes up when you're being asked to be the grown-up in the room. The one who tells the truth at the family dinner. The one who fires the friend who's been a drain. The one who finally lays down the *no* you've been swallowing for two years. Sweet thing — be her this week. Saint Rita patrons her. Saint Donna of the Long Island Iced Tea is her best friend. My Sicilian mother is, in her better moods, basically her.
When she pulls it upside down.
Reversed Queen is the *clear* woman gone bitter, pilgrim. The cuts kept happening and she stopped pulling them. Now she's cynical, now she's cruel for sport, now she has a rotation of grudges she keeps polished like silver. *Madonn'.* Bambina. The boundary that used to protect you started keeping out the good stuff too. Soften — not on the boundary, on the *delivery.* You can say the hard truth and still let your face be a face. Saint Rita for the ones who forgot how to laugh.
For the heart.
The Queen in love is the partner who tells you the truth even when it's not what you wanted to hear. If you're with one — keep her, sinner, they don't make many. If you're being one — make sure the truth comes wrapped in the love, not the other way around. Or — single — the Queen is the season of being deeply okay alone. The Queen does not date out of loneliness. She dates because she met somebody who deserves a chair at her table, and her chairs are in *short supply.*
For the wallet.
The Queen with money is the woman who reads the contract before signing. Who negotiates without flinching. Who can say *that's not enough* and let the silence sit there until the other side blinks. *Madonn'.* Be her at the meeting this week, sweet thing. The Queen makes her money in the negotiation, not in the work. Know your number. Don't apologize for it. Saint Anthony for the raises you've been losing track of by undercharging.
When this card hits at the wrong time.
The Queen at 3am on a bad Tuesday is *the woman who finally writes the email she should have written six months ago.* Cold, clear, three sentences, no apologies, no softening hedges, no *I hope this finds you well.* The Queen at 3am drafts the resignation, the breakup, the *we will not be hosting Christmas this year.* Save it in drafts, my creature. Read it again at 9am. Most of it will still be right. Send it then.
Walk it out, sinner.
Say one *no* this week without the seventeen-paragraph explanation. *No, I can't.* *No, I'm not available.* *No, that doesn't work for me.* The Queen does not justify her *no*s and neither should you. People who deserve the no will respect it. People who don't will reveal themselves quickly, which is actually a service the Queen provides for free. Saint Christopher rides with the ones learning to say no without flinching.
"Be the Queen, dirty Madonna. The throne's been waiting. Sit down."
— Sinderella · folding table · the back room
One card. The dead are watching. They're rooting for you.