27/08/2026
(ღ˘⌣˘ღ)
Sometimes I buy the pretty notebook even though I already have notebooks at home.
The cute mug.
The colorful pens.
The little trinket that serves absolutely no practical purpose except making me smile.
And every now and then, I think about the little girl I used to be.
The one who could spend forever looking at pretty things in a shop, picking them up carefully, admiring every tiny detail, and then putting them back because there were things we simply could not buy.
Maybe next time.
Maybe someday.
She learned early that wanting something did not always mean getting it, and honestly, that taught me gratitude in ways I still carry today.
But now that I am older, there is something strangely sweet about being able to give her a few of those tiny joys.
Nothing extravagant.
Sometimes it is a pretty pen. A new art material. A book with a beautiful cover. Something pink and completely unnecessary. 😂
And somewhere inside me, little me is probably losing her mind.
Because she would have loved this.
I think growing up gives us so many chances to care for the younger versions of ourselves in ways we could not back then.
We can take them to places they once dreamed about.
Try the hobbies they were curious about.
Eat the treat they used to stare at through the glass.
Fill the desk with colors and paper and ridiculously pretty things.
So yes, sometimes I buy myself the pretty thing.
Because I can now.
Because it makes me happy.
And because little me waited a very long time for it. 🎀🌷
What is something you can finally give yourself now that your younger self would have absolutely loved? Tell me in the comments. I have a feeling some of our little selves had very specific wish lists. 😂🩷