It’s been a bit of an odd time here at The Barefaced Chic HQ. We’ve had the unbelievably good news that Rachel (my daughter, Andrew’s step-daughter) is now the proud owner of a rather lovely engagement ring, Andrew is about to start an exciting new position and we’ve decided that my yearning for Wales isn’t just a flash of homesickness so we’re probably packing up and moving back there. All in all, that’s quite a chunk of life change for my slightly overstuffed brain to take in.
Not that I’m adverse to change; in fact the thought of a ‘normal’ life kind of scares the pants off me. I tried it once, and it just about broke me. So what is it that’s making my brain say, “Good luck, I’m out of here!” — the realisation that my baby is all grown up.
Now this shouldn’t come as a shock – she’s been living an independent life since the age of eighteen, she has her own business as a cake artist (she made all the cakes in the pics below) and she is one of the most mature twenty-two year old’s on the face of the planet. Yet there was a moment during her engagement party when it hit me square between the eyes; she is a woman.
I’m not sure exactly when this happened, for years now I’ve thought of her as ‘my girl’. But it was not a girl that fluttered from table to table during her party, effortlessly socialising with her guests. It was not a girl that proudly held out her hand for all to admire her engagement ring. It was not a girl that danced with me, happiness shining from her smile. It was a woman.
And I am so proud. Proud of the woman she has become, proud of the choices she has made in life, proud of how hard she works, proud that she has chosen to spend her life with a wonderful man who will love her the way she deserves. And yes, of course I know she is a woman, yet there is a part of me that will always think of her as a girl — ‘my girl’.
Judging by the pics below, maybe ‘my girl’ is still a child at heart after all. And you know what? That kind of makes me proud too 🙂
Here’s to being, and staying young at heart.