Sixteen Candles and a Lifetime in a Blink

Somehow, in the blur of busy days and growing up too fast, Little Miss Pampered turned sixteen last week. Sixteen. Sweet sixteen. The words feel impossible to write, like they belong to someone else’s daughter—some fictional teenager in a coming-of-age movie. But no, she’s mine. Our girl. And suddenly, she’s not so little anymore. It came without warning, the way time always does. One day she’s asking for piggyback rides and glitter lip gloss, and the next she’s setting her own alarm, making her own plans, and talking about dreams so big they make your heart skip. It’s strange, really—how fast the world can turn. How fast they grow up right in front of you, even when you’re watching closely. Sixteen is a milestone. It’s bold and bright and beautiful. It’s watching her become—truly become—the person she’s meant to be. She’s making choices, good and not-so-good. She’s testing limits, dreaming out loud, wondering who she’ll become next. Some days she’s a budding entrepreneur. Other days, a future lawyer. Maybe a horse trainer, or an actress, or something we haven’t even imagined yet. And I hope—I hope—whatever it is, she goes further than we ever dreamed possible. That she chases the wild, messy, magnificent life she was born to live. She’s a storyteller, our girl. She can hold a room with her words, with those perfectly timed pauses and expressions that draw you in like a seasoned performer. And sometimes, when I hear her talking, confidently commanding the space she’s in, I wonder when she got so grown. How the tiny hands that used to tug at mine now hold the reins of her own becoming. But even in all her big-girl brilliance, she’s still my little girl. The one who curls up in silky pink pajamas, who likes her hair brushed and her back scratched. Who finds comfort in quiet rituals, in being taken care of—just a little—before the world expects her to take care of herself. Here we are. Sixteen candles lit. A whole new chapter beginning. And me, standing on the edge of it all, blinking back tears and beaming with pride. Because she’s everything I hoped she’d be—and more. And even as she grows into the world, she’ll always have a place right here, where she began. Still my baby. Always my girl.