One evening, as we sat together at the kitchen table, I noticed the way her fingers lightly traced the edge of the fabric she had been working with. “What’s on your mind, sweetie?” I asked, sensing there was more to her quiet mood than I could see.
Lily looked up at me, her eyes soft but thoughtful. “It’s weird, you know? All of this is so much bigger than I ever imagined. It’s like… it’s happening so fast, and I don’t want to mess it up.”
I smiled, understanding her fear. “You don’t have to do it all at once, Lily. Take your time. Learn, grow, and if you make mistakes—so what? It’s all part of it.”
She nodded, but I could see the weight of the pressure she felt. Lily had always put a lot of pressure on herself, always wanted to prove that she could do it. But this was different. It wasn’t just about proving something to herself anymore. It was about proving something to the world—and more importantly, to the people who had doubted her.
“I just can’t believe everything that happened,” she said quietly. “The bike, the sewing machine… It’s like the world just wanted to keep pushing me down, but I didn’t let it. I kept going.”