How great is it to walk down the street and be addressed by terms like, "Hello, beautiful," "how are you, goddess" and "peace to you, queen" at every turn? It's one of those situations that'll make you stop in your tracks. For most women, being called queen would knock you off your feet, imagining yourself drenched in gold, diamonds and a crown to match. The term will surely have you feeling like royalty.

With notable queens like Nana Yaa Asantewa, queen mother of Ejisu Clan of the Asante, who led "The War of the Golden Steel," Queen Nefertiti, who was powerful enough to bring the war between the lower Kemet and upper Kemet (Land of The Black) to an end and Queen Nzingha who fought against the Portuguese and their expanding slave trade in Central Africa. They could very well have you feeling high and mighty, but what happens when this term of endearment turns to a division against women.

What exactly does it cost to be defined as a queen? Do you have to have long locks, a natural afro, or those stylish Bantu knots? Do you have to rock an ankh necklace, earrings shaped like the continent of Africa while listening to Lauryn Hil?

A lot of women feel like that has become the case today. As the Afro-centric era comes back in style, the term queen has come, too — but with a standard. It seems as if women who don't wear tight jeans are not seen as queens, or if they have 28-inch Brazilian weaves, with 4-inch acrylic nails. Women being sectionalized by a term meant to be admirable in order to feel like they are worthy to be addressed as "black queens."

For three years straight I wore my hair in long length weaves of various textures, from Brazilian Curly, to Raw Indian body with colored ombre to match and not once was I addressed as queen. Occasionally, I would get the usual greeting as a teen walking the urban streets of Philadelphia. "Aye Shawty" "Can I talk to you for a minute blue shirt?" And "Can I get ya name shawty." But never once did I receive a greeting of respect. Now here I am three years later with my natural hair styled in an Afro and my cowry shell necklace with a bracelet to match bought straight from the motherland. I walked those same streets but greeted differently "How are you my gorgeous Black Sistah" "Power to you African Queen."

So I ask myself, do we have to dress, and talk the part in order to be respected, and appreciated as women? Do the women of today have to end wars and rule empires and in order to be graced with an enchanting title? Can a woman dress in a crop top and still be a queen? Can they dance to their favorite Future song and still be a queen? Can they rap Young Thug and sing Bryson Tiller and still be considered queens? Or does somebody else's standard of queendom leave some of us women nameless?