Journal January Entry 22: Girlhood

Journal January — Day 22

Prompt: What’s something from childhood you feel nostalgic about?

Polly Pockets.

Tiny worlds that fit in the palm of your hand. Little pastel cases that opened into entire stories. Bedrooms, malls, beaches, castles — each one its own universe. I had so many of them, carefully collected and deeply loved. I could spend hours arranging the figures, creating tiny lives, inventing plots that felt endlessly important at the time.

It was such a pure form of joy. So uncomplicated. Just imagination and curiosity and the freedom to play without any sense of performance or pressure.

Years later, when my husband and I got engaged, my sister gave me a vintage Polly Pocket ring box — the one with the tiny wedding chapel inside. When I opened it, I felt like I had been quietly transported back to that version of myself. The girl who sat on the floor surrounded by little plastic worlds, completely content.

It was such a thoughtful gift — it understood me fully. It connected who I was then to who I am now. It honored that thread of tenderness and creativity that never really left.

Now it sits on my bookshelf in my office. A small, touching object among the chapters. And every time I notice it, I’m reminded of that simpler kind of happiness. Of a time when joy didn’t require justification. When everything felt possible because nothing felt heavy yet.

In a life that has grown beautifully complex, it’s comforting to have a small reminder of something that was once so light.