childhood is never really over

the daily dose of hope for your sad little brain

I recently read a beautiful piece written by my beautiful friend I was blessed with this year. I highly recommend you to read it, her mind never fails to amaze me. She wrote about how childhood is over and missing the life you never had or appreciated while it was livid. I would like to give my thoughts on that. Childhood will never be over if you love the little girl you were like if it was your own. If you treat something like the beggining it will never have an end.

I like to think I had a happy childhood. I really did. I remember playing in the mud and loosing white pants because of it. I remember carving my and my favourite cousin's - don't tell the other one - names together on a tree for it to be imortalized my Mother Nature. I remember playing pretend and dressing up as a princess to school. I remember pillow forts and fights. I remember seeing my breath on a cold weather and pretending I was smoking - I´m a smoker now, how fun is that? -. I remember having a box of Barbie dolls I would share with my sister and pick half of them to play every night. I remember the prayers my dad did every night that protect me to this day - I'm not even religious, just need something to hold onto -. I remember brushing my little brother's teeth and feeling so grown up, like a mother. I still feel like a mother to him and can't wait to actually be one.

I also remember being a tiny adult, having conversations with my parent's friends and wishing I could sit at the grown up's table. "I was so young when I behaved 25, and now I find I've grown into a tall child". I fear this is a quote that punches every child who was told she would be a great lawyer and now finds herself collecting stuffed animals again right in the gut. After I grew up, my love for kids blossomed and I desire with every inch of my being to protect this pureness.

I want to be a mother, an aunt, a mother figure, a teacher, a pediatrician, a support system more than anything. Somehow, I believe being close to those tiny runny noses will give my life the simpleness it so eagerly needs back.

When I was a child, I was obsessed with the beach. I haven't been there in a long time. Who would have thought you would read about the ocean in "ocean whispers"? I couldn't have possibly seen it coming, could you? I remember getting up early, putting on a swimsuit and going to the porch so my mother would spray that freezing sunscreen all over me. I remember scrambled eggs and morning cartoons. I remember a tiny surfboard with a raspy texture and a vibrant colour. I remember a tiny cart with toys to play in the sand, the only thing I was strong enought to roll over and how I felt I was such a huge help. So grown up, am I right? I remember the walk to the beach, the sign of "no dogs allowed" and how I always though of my - now deceased - dog and how much I wanted him there. I remember the smell of salt and the so characteristic breeze. The palm trees, the sand, the heat, the sticky feeling, the coconut water, the corn, the popsicle cart passing by with a horn, the castles, the shells and the feeling of being underwater, conected to the world inside of me. I close my eyes and I can still feel that very same breeze. I still feel the wrinkly fingers, the salty taste, the hard dirty hair and the coldness of being underwater and only hearing the wave crashing and dancing with your hair.

I usually go with drawings, but I wanted this to feel real. Like a memory, even if you don´t remember it.

When I got older and society told me to hate my body, the beach became a nightmare. We all know this feeling a little too well, I'm not here to talk about it, but rather to escape it. I can't wait to feel that breeze again. I might write something specifically and exclusively about the beach, should I? Of course I should.

Every week, I go to a daycare and read for a class. This is without a doubt my favourite part of the week. I feel myself immersed in those silly stories and connected to those simple minds and for an hour there is nothing else going on. I can finally find the portal to the world of imagination under a blanket with a flashlight. I feel freer than I have always felt when I was a child myself. I guess it is because now I see the value of it, now I am desperate to grasp the cracks of light that the world still has. Living in this world and despising it, I refuse to be corrupted by the lack of life of the adult life. I will always cherish the moments my childhood giggle gets to come out.

You know that gross noise of that kid's cracky cough? That is music to my years, baby. You know that incontrolable laughter that comes out of them when you say the stupidest shit like "fart"? That makes my heart melt and there is nothing as beautiful as a child's hug, a baby's grip on your finger, a toddler's fascinating look directed to you or the smell of a baby's scalp. When you close your eyes and enjoy the feeling of your nose and mouth on a child's soft hair, all of your big girl problems seem to fade and you feel hugged by the little girl who is still inside of you. Never stop yourself from hugging her back.

From time to time, I advise you to wear funky socks and a clown's nose. Pretend you are a mermaid at the pool, let the waves crash you, buy yourself a doll and tell everyone stupid facts about sharks no one ever wanted to listen to. Listen to the music you used to and sing it to the children in your life, watch old Disney movies and show them to your tiny little cousin. Put your hair up in pigtails and wear a floral dress that spins, spin until you get dizzy and get dizzy with bubbly joy. Play with a hoe. Play in the rain. Have superpowers. Forget every math equation you know and forget cursive. Forget real money, forget being a lawyer and be a bird. Forget your body and remember yourself.

Heyy! Thank you for the time you took to read it. And, again, I highly recommend reading my friend´s piece:

childhood is over?