She described herself a being “thick as a plank”…
She was a shy 20 year old, thrust into a stifling limelight we can’t even begin to imagine…
She suffered silently…from eating disorders, from low self-esteem, from a failing marriage…
…and she decided to do something about it.
She managed, more than anyone else, to destroy the stigma surrounding AIDS patients in the 1980s…simply by touching them…hugging them…showing them love and compassion when the rest of the world preferred to keep them shut away…
She raised awareness of the deadly power of land mines…to such an extent that she was instrumental in helping to lead the governments of the world to sign the international treaty banning land mines…
She used her incredible beauty to draw attention to problems that people refused to face…including her own eating disorders. She gave hope to innumerable people around the world, and refused to allow society to shun the outcasts and the unwanted…
She picked up the pieces of her failed marriage and her crumbling self-esteem…and transformed herself into a capable, independent women…making her own way in a world that continues to hold women up to an uncomfortable, male-dominated magnifying glass…
She was an amazing mother, who helped to raise two boys who have already demonstrated the same passions, the same love of life, and the same zeal to help the downtrodden of the world…
…and by raising such heirs to the throne, has ensured the evolution and survival of a thousand-year monarchy that can still be useful as a symbol, well into the 21st century and beyond.
Ten years after her death, we shouldn’t celebrate Diana, Princess of Wales, as a saint. She’d be the first person to disabuse such a notion. We should celebrate her for what she was: a magnificent, vibrant woman who did all she could to give back to a world that had given her so much privilege…and asked the rest of us to do the same.
That’s a good enough definition of princess in my book. 
