It’s time to talk about the plummeting marriage rates of Disney princesses.
Disney’s early princesses — Snow White, Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty — brought kindness to the world and found their “happily ever after” through true love’s kiss. By 1989, however, the princess story had begun to embrace new ambitions: Ariel longed to explore life on land, Belle craved knowledge beyond her village, Jasmine sought freedom from palace walls, Tiana dreamed of opening a restaurant, and Rapunzel yearned for life outside her tower. Still, despite these broader pursuits, each story ultimately ended in the joy of a royal marriage.
In 2012, Disney marked a turning point as modern princesses like Merida, Elsa, Moana and Raya stepped onto the scene — heroes whose stories unfolded without princes or marriage at the center.
Over the past 90 years, America’s beloved Disney princesses have reflected a broader cultural shift — moving away from royal marriages, romance and even purposeful dating, and elevating personal growth and autonomy as higher priorities.
Certainly, qualities like strength and independence are vital to instill in rising generations. At the same time, Latter-day Saints affirm with equal conviction that “marriage is ordained of God” and that “the family is central to the Creator’s plan.”
In today’s culture, this deeper purpose of marriage is often overlooked, leaving many young people uncertain about whether it is still worth pursuing.
Our most popular princess
Even amid today’s trend away from marriage — both in princess films and in broader culture — who do you think Americans name as their most beloved princess? The answer is strikingly consistent. It’s Cinderella.
In fact, there are over 500 versions of this story across many cultures. Despite some valid critiques of princesses perpetuating unrealistic beauty standards, why do so many of us still love Cinderella?
Maybe because our resonance with royalty is based on an eternal truth. Echoing Paul’s teachings to Romans, The Family Proclamation teaches, “all human beings — male and female — are created in the image of God. Each is a beloved spirit son or daughter of heavenly parents, and, as such, each has a divine nature and destiny.”
The princess I never planned to be
Once I showed a young group of believing children a picture of the San Diego temple and asked them what it was.
A little girl said, “A pretty castle?” I said no, but I was mostly wrong.
Latter-day Saint scripture tells us that “all those who receive my gospel are sons and daughters in my kingdom” and we are invited: “Keep my commandments continually (to receive a) crown of righteousness.”
I still like talking about castles and royalty, even though my 6-year-old claims she has outgrown princesses.
Not me though. Maybe because I missed them growing up. When I was in high school, I had a quote on my wall that said, “A woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle.” When my friends were chasing future husbands, I was on a solitary quest for straight A’s.
Marriage was not top of mind; I was instructed by my parents not to even date until I was 25.
But because life rarely follows a script, I got engaged at 21. When I walked into the bridal shop, I told them, “Make me look like a princess.”
But that fairy tale did not end well. After 13 years, my first marriage ended in divorce. It was devastating. There I was, alone, divorced with two young boys and a life I never imagined.
I no longer felt anything like a princess. I was confused about my role as a daughter in God’s kingdom.
This became the loneliest time in my life, with my little daily buddies who now I could only see half the time. I remember walking around the mall at night sometimes because I didn’t want to be alone.
What I didn’t understand at the time was who my prince was, because I assumed that that would be my husband. I didn’t understand that without a husband, I could remain a princess, with Jesus Christ, my “Prince of Peace.”
That’s where I eventually found solace during this period — and some newfound resonance with the story of princesses reduced to the dust.
After beginning in house servant rags, Cinderella eventually completes her transformation together clothed in white at a wedding with her prince. We similarly prepare to become kings and queens in Latter-day Saint temples, where we are washed, anointed and endowed with divine power. Clothed in white, a symbol of purity, as with our Savior, we are invited into sacred becoming.
This isn’t always easy to remember. After all, every princess faces evil. And our adversary’s greatest ploy is making us forget who we are and why we’re here.
This cynical voice amplifies your every flaw, urging you to lower your royal head, scoffing at the very thought that you might be royal, while goading you to abandon the sacred aspiration to become like your divine Heavenly Parents.
Young people are also becoming convinced that they “don’t need anyone” — that they’re fine on their own and don’t need saving. And while it’s true that women today aren’t dependent on men as they once were, heaven whispers an eternal truth: It is not good for woman or man to be alone, for exaltation is a family journey.
Alternatively you might believe that you are complete when you find your spouse. Well, that isn’t true either. We are only made whole by our Savior.
This is the heart of our story: eternal love with Jesus Christ. But as a part of his plan, we are invited to unite with another imperfect person. When I was a young woman, I was certain I wanted to marry a doctor. After my divorce, I decided I wanted a man who was 6’2.” My students today say they are looking for someone with the right “vibes.”
If I could offer advice, I’d say look for someone humble, honest and who deeply loves Jesus Christ.
But even then, here’s the thing about happily ever after. We really can obtain happiness, but it’s almost never through receiving all we have dreamed of.
The Prince of Peace (and Hope)
I’m not the only one with heavy personal trials that are painful, and disappointing.
I turned to Jesus Christ when no one understood what I was going through. Not my bishop. Not my mom. Not my sisters or closest friends. No one could understand my pain and lift me up.
In the 1950s, a Harvard trained doctor, Curt P. Richter, did a few experiments on rats. He put the rats into a half full jar of water to see how long they would swim before they gave up. In a seemingly hopeless situation, it turns out these rats swam for between one minute and fifteen minutes.
Then he repeated the experiment and this time after a short while of swimming, he took the rats out and dried them off and gave them a little break. Then he put these rats back in the water. This time, the rats swam up to 80 hours.
What changed? They knew they were not alone. This second group of rats knew there was a chance they would be saved. Richter famously said, “After elimination of hopelessness, the rats do not die.”
The cynical voice, once again, insists we’re on our own — tempting us to trade loyalty to the Prince of Peace for the fleeting closeness of an unchaste relationship, pornography or even an artificial companion.
None of those imitations can replace the pure, everlasting love of Christ. And this lack of fidelity will drive a wedge between you and your Savior until you turn back to him.
Let me be clear: If you have been abused or are a survivor of rape, “you are no less worthy or less valuable or less loved,” as Latter-day Saint apostle Elder Patrick Kearon has said, “because of what someone else has done to you.”
Even if you willingly made unchaste choices, he pleads for you to turn back.
Some of you might be saying, “Yeah, but not me. I’m scarred and broken. I’ll never overcome my past, my broken family tree, my sins, my struggles with sexuality or gender.”
But have you considered that even the princesses have reasons to carry wounds of their past? Cinderella, Snow White and Rapunzel all grow up in loveless homes where they are abused, sent away, locked up or threatened with death, often by their own family.
Are we willing to let Christ take away our wounds?
Finding peace in an everlasting castle
In earlier years of my life, I didn’t have a regular practice of going to the temple. But after a divorce, I wasn’t sure I wanted to be married in the temple again. I was blessed with compassionate bishops who helped me heal and take things slowly. I talked through my dark periods, and they didn’t scold me for making mistakes. They just kept encouraging me to keep coming to church. And when I was ready to embrace the House of the Lord, my eager bishop helped me enter his holy house.
Charming princes, princesses and castles resonate because they remind us of the greatest love story ever told. A true one where your Savior loved you so much, he suffered every lie you ever told and every loss of a loved one.
Our Prince of Peace takes it away, allowing you to say sorry and change, and dressing you in white, filling you with divine love in his beautiful home on Earth, so that one day you can be throned as kings and queens with your spouse by your side, to arrive at the most beautiful castle imaginable in a future day.
And while Jesus does not use his magic wand to make your troubles disappear and turn your rags into riches, you have his atoning power to make you strong, full of peace, as he promises he “will come to you,” embracing you in the “arms of his love.”
This perspective is adapted from “Peace in Christ When Everything Falls Apart,” a speech given Thursday, Sept. 25, at Brigham Young University’s conference “Experiencing Jesus Christ Through the Family Proclamation.”