SMALL ENOUGH

The funny thing about my childhood is that adults never really managed to guess my size correctly.

Almost everything they bought me was just a little too big. But that was fine, really.

I would eventually start eating properly instead of throwing half my lunch onto the floor because the peas had accidentally touched the mashed potatos;

I'd gain a few kilograms, grow a few centimeters, and eventually become enough to fill the clothes they had bought.

It always had to happen that way: I had to fit the clothes, never the clothes to fit me.

They had their measurements, their numbers, their expectations.
And on the other side, there was little me, still struggling to count in kindergarten, but already brilliant at making up stories to help myself fall asleep.

Looking back now, it feels strange that the numbers always seemed more important than the little person they were supposed to fit.

"It's ok, she'll wear it in two years."

As if I wasn't currently existing. As if the child standing in front of them was merely a rough draft of the future person worth dressing.

Children aren't practice versions of adults !

Children are children and they already have favorite colors, strong opinions, dramatic meltdowns, imaginary friends. They know love, they know anger; They know the warmth of the sun and instinctively hide when the wind gets just a little too cold.

They deserve beautiful things not in two or three years, but now.

This little dress was made for exactly that.

Let your little girl wear it, let her outgrow it. And when she does, fold it carefully and tuck it away in a drawer.

Years from now, she'll open that drawer again. The dress will still be tiny, she – won't.

But she'll know that, even when she was small, she was always taken care of.

Always, always loved.