birthday cake dreams & other forms of healing
turning 21, an age i never dreamed i'd reach— an ode to the wild-hearted girl within me ♡
when i was a kid i loved neon colors,
hot pink animal prints, ice cream-flavored bubblegum,
and anything that looked like it had been kissed by glitter—
a diamond hiding in the dirt.
as we grow up, we tend to suppress ourselves.
we swap sparkly nail polish for whispers of subtlety,
playfulness for quiet decorum,
so we can “belong.”
and for a second, we do.
but somewhere between snot-nosed wonder
and the first sip of legal “pink lemonade,”
we find ourselves filling our worlds with
sweet-bitten treasures—
toys, tiny figurines,
soft little nudges
to hold gently the scared, wild-hearted girls we once were.
the ones who treated carpets as trampolines
at the sight of birthday cake ice cream, licking frosting off the spoon,
who named every stuffed animal
and gave them personalities
louder than our own voices.
today is my 21st birthday.
i still sleep with my unicorn stuffed animal,
wrapped around my cheetah print blanket,
tucking my feet under the covers when it’s dark,
and light up at every chance that finds me.
i’m hugging tight the girl within me—
the one who never knew
she was a diamond—
and that feels just as special
as my most precious memory.
if this is what growing up truly feels like,
i’m madly in love ♡
yousharknotpass
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