Let’s talk about Hera, goddess of marriage, queen of Olympus, and—depending on who’s telling the story—the “jealous wife” of myth. But maybe it’s time we stop taking the myths at surface value. Maybe it’s time we remember that gods, too, are shaped by the stories told about them—and those stories often carry the fingerprints of patriarchy, fear, and historical rewriting.
Because Hera isn't just some scorned woman in the sky. She's divine sovereignty itself. And considering her bloodline, the trauma in her mythos, and the man she was married to, we should all be grateful she didn’t burn Olympus to the ground.
🔥 Hera: Daughter of the Old World
Let’s not forget: Hera is the daughter of Cronus and Rhea. That’s right—born from the bloodline of Titans, shaped by a world before gods even knew how to rule. She was swallowed by her father, like her siblings. She watched the world crack open under Zeus’s rebellion. And then she became queen beside him—but only after being tricked, betrayed, and bound into a divine institution (marriage) she would come to represent.
So yes, she’s mad. But maybe you would be too.
💔 Goddess of Marriage… Married to Zeus?
It’s poetic irony at its cruelest: the goddess of marriage shackled to the very god who makes a mockery of it. Zeus, serial seducer, deceiver of nymphs, and violator of vows, leaves a trail of destruction wherever he goes. And Hera, whose domain is loyalty, family, union, is left to pick up the pieces.
But instead of seeing her fury as a flaw, maybe we should recognize it as what it truly is: divine wrath against broken vows.
The ancients worshipped her for safeguarding marriage not because she was nice, but because she demanded reverence. She held the line. She was the queen who kept Olympus from turning into utter chaos.
🎵 “Before I Met You, I Was Free…”
There’s a song that captures her rage and elegance so well it could’ve been written from her perspective: “Royal We” by Janani K Jha.
“Before I met you I was free / Let my walls come down / I looked up and Troy was breached / And you wore my crown.”
That’s Hera in a verse. She let her walls down—for Zeus, for Olympus, for marriage. And what did she get? Betrayal. Ruin. Her power usurped in her own domain. But she didn’t shatter. She reclaimed the narrative.
“I used to speak for me / But now I use the royal we.”
There it is. She doesn't beg. She doesn't break. She puts on the crown again. When Hera speaks, she speaks with the voice of empires, dynasties, and divine order.
👑 Not a Villain—A Sovereign
If you think Hera is a villain, ask yourself: by whose standards? In a world where men break oaths and gods take what they want, Hera is one of the only figures who demands accountability.
She’s not soft. She’s not sweet. But she is just. And if she’s cruel, it’s the cruelty of someone forced to uphold sacred things in a world that laughs at sacredness.
She’s the queen of Olympus. And like any good queen, she carries the burden of holding a kingdom together—even when it’s rotten at the roots.
💬 Final Thought:
Hera isn’t perfect—but what god is? She is power, pain, and principle. She is a divine force born of an old world, trying to keep order in a new one.
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