On February 6, 1952, something quietly historic happened.

Britain’s King George VI died, and his 25-year-old daughter stepped into the role of monarch. Just like that, Elizabeth became Queen.

No onboarding period. No six-month transition plan. No “let’s circle back.”

One day you’re a young woman living your life, the next day you’re running an empire.

Which feels relatable.

So I’ve decided that February 6th should officially be Queen Day.

Not the sparkly tiara kind (although I won’t stop you). The real kind. The everyday kind. The queens who rise without ceremony and immediately get to work.


Queen at home, in a house full of boys, including three dogs who believe they are senior leadership. Queen at work, navigating meetings, budgets, people, systems, crises, and coffee. Queen of multitasking. Queen of walking through minefields in stilettos.

Elizabeth didn’t ask for the crown.

Life handed it to her.

And isn’t that often how it goes?

We don’t always audition for leadership. Sometimes leadership arrives quietly on a Tuesday and says, Congratulations. You’re up.

Psychologically speaking, this is fascinating.

So many women don’t recognize the moment they become queens. There’s no trumpet. No velvet cushion. Just responsibility, expectations, and a long to-do list. You rise because someone has to. You adapt because the alternative isn’t available.

You climb ladders while carrying groceries. You manage crises while making breakfast. You lead meetings while remembering who needs new medications at home.

You don’t just wear one crown.

You rotate them depending on the room.

At home, you’re the emotional anchor, the logistics coordinator, the finder of lost things.

At work, you’re the strategist, the decision-maker, the calm in the storm.

And in between, you’re also a human who gets tired, laughs too loud, forgets where they put their phone, and wonders how it’s already February.

Queen Elizabeth went on to reign for seventy years. Seventy. That’s stamina. That’s resilience. That’s a master class in showing up, again and again, regardless of mood or weather.

So on February 6th, I think all queens should pause for a moment.

Not because we’re perfect.

But because we’re doing it.

We rose. We climbed.
We navigated ladders and minefields. We learned how to multitask across emotional, professional, and domestic workplaces without losing our sense of humor.

That deserves recognition.

So here’s to the queens who lead households, organizations, teams, and lives. The ones who didn’t plan the coronation but showed up anyway. The ones balancing compassion with competence. The ones managing chaos with grace and Google calendars.

Mark the day.

Have the chocolate.

Take the moment.

February 6th belongs to us.

Long may we reign, preferably with good coffee, sparkly heels, and at least one uninterrupted thought.