My childhood feels like something I’ll never get back. It’s a time in my life that no one can reclaim, no matter how much we try. You carry pieces of it with you, but it’s never the same. I miss the simplicity of not caring. I miss when people would call me pretty, when they’d look at me and say, “Who is that? She’s beautiful,” and I could smile and accept it. But now, I don’t hear those things anymore. I don’t feel pretty. I’ve accepted that I’m not, and that’s just how it is.
I used to be a child, playing with toys, with my American Girl dolls, learning to play the piano. But I grew up. And now, my life feels like a straight line—no big events, no surprises, no “wow, she did that so young.” I’m not young anymore, and there’s nothing exciting to look forward to.
My life is like cotton candy in water. It’s so sweet and beautiful at first, but the moment it touches water, it dissolves. Where did it go? No one knows. It just vanishes, and you’re left wondering how you got to this point. Because now, you’re just one small dot on this huge planet, and no matter what you do, it feels like it doesn’t matter. My childhood is gone. I don’t get to play with dolls anymore or dress up in princess clothes. Now, I wear real high heels, real dresses, but for reasons I didn’t ask for.
Growing up is exhausting. I don’t enjoy it. I’m tired of it all, and it feels like a constant reminder that the fun and carefree days are behind me. There’s no going back, and sometimes, I wonder if I even want to move forward.