The Queen of Swords

 

The Queen of Swords has always held a special place in my heart—particularly the depiction from the Morgan Greer deck. The image at the top of this post was inspired by her. I’ve long felt it’s one of the most beautiful artistic interpretations of this archetype: surrounded by roses, holding her sword high, with eyes that look directly at you and through you.

This Queen has taught me about the right use of clarity and truth—about seeing through fog, illusions, and social conditioning.

A lot of people interpret her through the lens of the Rider-Waite-Smith version and tend to fixate on her shadow aspects. She’s often described as cold, bitter, or hardened. A lonely widow. The language around her has long leaned toward misalignment and misjudgment.

Which, actually, says more about our culture than it does about her.

The Misunderstanding of the Clear-Eyed Woman

It’s no secret that many men are conditioned to romanticize women. Whether through fantasy, hero complex, or the “rescuer” archetype, there’s a persistent cultural narrative that idealizes a certain type of woman while dismissing or fearing those who don’t fit it. Men, often unknowingly, learn to see women through their imagination—not through reality.

The Queen of Swords breaks that illusion. She refuses to fit. She speaks clearly. She doesn’t ask for permission to exist in truth. And for that, she’s labeled detached, conceited, even dangerous.

But look again. This Queen isn’t cruel—she’s clear. She doesn’t wield her sword to wound. She wields it to discern.

She doesn’t accept roles, expectations, or fantasies handed to her by culture. And that makes her disruptive. She embodies the kind of sovereignty that unsettles people still living under someone else’s story.

Wisdom in the Age of Illusion

This archetype could not be more relevant to the world we’re living in now. With bots, deepfakes, AI catfishing, false narratives, and echo chambers—it’s hard to know what’s real. The Queen of Swords cuts through that noise.

When she’s well-aspected, she becomes the Wise Woman. She sees where people are confused—and more importantly, where they are content to stay confused. She understands the emotional cost of seeing life clearly, and the courage it takes to keep your eyes open anyway.

She sets boundaries. Maintains them. And encourages others to do the same. In a society built on manipulation, boundary violations, and coercion, she’s seen as a threat—not because she harms—but because she cannot be controlled.

This Queen Doesn’t Bow

She may not have an academic degree or elite credentials, but her intelligence is vast. She’s intellectually sharp and emotionally precise. It’s a combination our culture doesn’t often celebrate in women, which is why this archetype goes underground. Hidden. Muted. Reframed into something more palatable.

Women who carry this energy are often told they’re “too much,” that they intimidate men, that they should put down the sword and “soften up” to be more desirable. This is nothing more than conditioning designed to keep women from trusting their own discernment.

But the Queen of Swords doesn’t live for approval—she lives for truth.

She doesn’t define herself in relation to men, nor does she rebel for sport. Her clarity isn’t performative—it’s lived. She has no appetite for illusion, no tolerance for deception, and no need to dim herself to keep others comfortable.

She knows that truth is not the enemy of love—it is the beginning of it. Anything  that cannot withstand TRUTH was never safe to build on in the first place.

The Queen of Swords sees. She speaks. She stands. And in a world that thrives on confusion, this is formidable power.