My day would end and the next day, I was playing an Indian princess, reminiscent of Pocohontas.  

But always, always I was a princess.  (Yes, that’s me…with my golden, bejeweled, cut-out, paper crown.)

Last Saturday was Sweden’s Crown Princess Victoria’s wedding.  The little girl in me resurfaced and I spent hours looking at her wedding pictures, even as they were just being posted online.  She was perfectly beautiful.  Her crown was so vintage (and real, obviously, unlike my childhood craft crowns) and, it turns out, was her mother’s crown at her wedding to the now-king.  How romantic is that?!  Here’s the kicker though, the part that completely makes me melt: Crown Princess Victoria met her now-husband when she had some health issues years ago and went to a gym for a personal trainer.  He became her personal trainer.  Isn’t that magical?

Apparently, her daddy, the king, didn’t approve of non-royal blood and since she’s the Crown Princess and Sweden’s laws, Victoria will be the reigning Queen when her father dies, putting a lot of pressure on her choice of a spouse.  (Up until about 30 years ago, the crown went to the eldest son.)  When he realized that she was note going to give up her boyfriend, he conceded and got an entire staff to train him on the country’s history, worldwide languages, press, etc.  (What pressure for a boyfriend to go through!)  

He passed all of the classes and came out with the blessing to marry into the royal family.  What a life change.  The gym trainer now a prince (Prince Daniel, Duke of Vastergotland), married to the next reining queen of Sweden.

Does it get more romantic than that?  I think it’s such a fairy tale and I can’t get enough of it.

(P.S.  All of the hubbub about him not being of royal blood turns out that Queen Silvia, Victoria’s mom, was a commoner as well when she married into the royal family.  Another fairy tale story…)