Before I became an adult,
I had to become my own child.
To let myself play;
To stroke my hair when I make a mistake;
To not compare myself to others;
And to not scold myself too hard.
I had to say to myself: Follow your dreams, child!
Don’t put the money first. They will follow the dream!
I had to tell myself stories,
And lull myself before sleep.
To wake myself up with serenity and caresses;
To hug myself.
To forgive faster when the thrown stone
by another child hit me;
To not hold a grudge and smile in the sun;
To learn from my mistakes on my own,
And not repeat them,
But to make new ones.
To love my parents;
To forgive them,
And to not listen to them.
To get lost alone in the world,
To cry and then to find my way back home,
Where my mother is always waiting for me with
Hot pancakes,
And the smell of mother’s skin.
To invent something different every day,
And every day to invent myself.
And only then I started to grow.
