When I was 11, I believed I could fly airplanes
Bake cakes, interview world leaders, write poetry
Wear lipstick and hiking boots for fun
Put boys in their place when they misbehave
I was Joan of Arc, Marie Cure and Mother Teresa
All rolled up into one awesome girl. Me.
Then I turned 12.
Oh, to reclaim 11.
How old were you? I was 12. I was at my grandma’s house. Heather had come over to play. We were sister mermaids who had the magical ability to transform into humans. During the day, we had jobs as a doctor and a TV reporter. In the evening, we went on dates with our handsome boyfriends. After our dates, the mermaid sisters would swim in the ocean. The large grapefruit tree was the ocean and the ground was the human world. We had played mermaid sisters many times, but on that day we couldn’t get the game to work. We gave up and went inside. I remember standing at the glass sliding door that separated the outside yard from the inside house. I don’t know what Heather was thinking, but I was overcome by the moment. I looked at the grapefruit tree and whispered. “It is only a tree now. What happened?”
One thought on “Little Girls”
I was 12. I made friends with another loner and we would walk home from junior high together. We would stop by this big, dry channel that had been dug, and play house or some variation. I remember making footholds in the mud walls to climb out. It lasted a few weeks and then we went our separate ways. That was the last time I remember pretending anything as a kid.
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