Once upon a time, there was a girl who dreamed of being a princess. She drank apple juice out of real china tea cups, and ate homemade chocolate chip cookies with her grandma. She wore a new gown from Target from the Princess and the Pauper collection that came with a matching crown and had her stuffed kitten Cinnamon seated on the chair beside her. Her grandmother let her wear her real pearls and diamond ring and taught her how to hold her teacup properly.

Fast forward thirteen years later to a fresh-faced twenty-year-old who has no idea what she is doing, walks with a purpose, and has no idea where she is going.

That girl is me.

And this is how I, found out I was almost a princess.

Hence the almost.

It was around Christmas time and I was visiting my grandparents up north. I had just gotten in from playing outside in the snow – I’m from Arizona so we don’t get to see much of that around Christmas, and was now relaxing with a book in the living room (yes, I am that much of an old lady) as the snow fell on the ground.

My grandma was in the kitchen making dinner for the night and my father and grandpa were talking in his study. It was then I heard the magic word...Castle.

So of course I got up and went to where they were, in the dim light of the study, with dark wooden bookshelves from the floor extending to the ceiling in a 360 view. Books were filled in every nook and cranny, many old, and many new. A few black and white photos sat on some shelves, showcasing my ancestry.

“What are you two doing?” I poked my head in. My grandfather was bent over the desk looking at an old yellowed paper.

“Your grandpa found the family tree, along with some other documents.”

Curious as any nineteen-year-old, stuck in Idaho for a week could be, I walked in and looked at it. It showed my great grandmother and her family, along with many names I had never heard of.

“We have family from Scotland?” I pointed at a certain part of the tree. I had thought we all mostly derived from England.

My grandpa nodded, “Yeah, they owned a castle up there”

My eyes widened, “What one?” I pulled out my phone, eager to find this castle we supposedly had.

“Sterling, or something of that nature.” He replied and pulled out the papers from it.

I found it on the internet and eyed widened at the beauty. My inner seven-year-old was thriving. We owned a castle. That basically made me a princess right?

“Yeah, too bad they sold it.”

My heart plummeted. “What?”

“They sold it years and years back. When it was normal to do so.”

“They sold our castle?”

Grandpa, not fazed by the thought that we could have owned a castle, nodded and went back to his discussion with my dad.

That was the day I found out I could have been a princess. Basically. Or at least a girl with a darn castle. If it wasn’t for my ancestors selling the freaking thing, I could have lived out my little girl dreams in Scotland in my own castle.

So thanks ancestors.

You really made a huge mistake there.

And that’s the story on how I found out I was almost a Princess.