To my original little girl,

my sister:
Today, you graduated from Graduate School with your Master’s degree
and I could not be more proud.
As you are about to start your first job,
a real job,
an amazing job,
I can’t help but to gasp as I realize
you are now grown up.
The hours we spent in your little, pink Laura Ashley bedroom,
playing hairdresser as “Sherry Shamu” and “Britney Cooler”,
dressing and undressing Barbie dolls,
making up dance routines to “Do You Love Me?”
and gravity defying games like “Crocabunga”,
did not prepare me for the fact that one day
(today!)
you would no longer be my little sidekick.
That you would grow out of the plastic vanity chair
and the Laura Ashley bedroom
and even the white platform Spice Girls shoes that I forced you to wear for Glamor shots,
and grow up
into a beautiful,
poised,
remarkable
adult.
A person. Who now goes to celebrity stylists
and not good old “Sherry Shamu”.
Who writes a fashion blog
instead of dressing Barbies.
Who walks down the street with confidence and savvy
and a beauty that never fails to take my breath away.
You may be my little
but today
I can’t tell you how much I look up to you.
All my love,
Sherry.

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