All the stories of my life

All the stories of my life have one thing in common: they all start with the same little girl.

A little girl who looked at the world with hope and endless curiosity. A little girl who longed to be seen and heard. A little girl who constantly carried a camera around, hoping to freeze each precious moment in time. A little girl who dreamed of living the life I’m living now. 

The little girl in the last two photos carried so much. Sadness, pain, trauma, a longing for safety. She also carried big dreams, a yearning to see and be seen, wanting to travel the world, and most of all - she wanted to be happy. 

If I could sit with her now, there is so much I would say to her. But I would start by wrapping my arms around her, holding her, and whispering to her, ‘we did it’. 

Even in the hardest moments, the days when I’m tired of sitting behind a computer, days filled with the stresses of running your own creative business, I come back to that little girl, young Monica and how she dreamed up the wildly messy, beautiful life I’m living now. 

We’re here, we’re living it, and it’s because you dared to dream those big, scary dreams that we got here. We did it together, and I am so fucking proud of you. 
I’m proud of us.
I’m proud of me 🥲💛