6 Years Old

Six was the year my hair began to grow longer, flowing past my shoulders in a way that felt new and exciting. It was also the year my mom started our now-beloved tradition of smearing icing on my face every birthday—something I found equal parts funny and endearing (most of the time).

At six, life was filled with the little joys that made every day feel special. Playing outside until the streetlights came on, carefully picking out outfits that didn’t match, and proudly learning to tie my shoes felt like monumental achievements. Though the memories are a bit blurry, I know this was a year marked by simple happiness, growth, and the sweetness of childhood traditions.