My parents are people who spent their first cinema date watching Tarzan. So it's no surprise they'd raise me with Disney, and animation in general. They introduced me to many franchises, but what became my all time favourite was Winnie the Pooh. My parents started to follow every new release, looked for every CD they could get for me. Bought me toys, books, magazines. That's how I got introduced to My Friends Tigger and Pooh too, despite not having access to Playhouse Disney at the time as it was a premium channel.
But that's a story for another day. Because I can go on about how much that show matters to me, to a point little me was certain that Darby would be her perfect playdate friend that she decided that Darby was her imaginary friend. But yeah, long story.
Today I just wanna talk about feeling emotional while I was writing some Pooh stories on my phone.
You see, as far as I know myself, Winnie the Pooh has been a significant part of my life, even identity. When I was in kindergarten, I remember drawing silly little Winnie's and Tigger's and Piglet's, and tell silly stories about those drawings. Because I didn't know how to write, I often asked my teacher to write them for me. I constantly wanted new stories about the crew, so little me decided to make them herself.
Maybe it was my writing roots, maybe it was only a part of it as I always loved to make up stories.
But I know that if she could see us now, see how we never lost that, how we can now write those silly stories ourselves, she'd be so happy. I can't shake off the feeling that I am making her so happy by becoming what she wanted to be.
Also, I hope little me knows how smart we were when we already guessed Chris and Darby were siblings even though we never watched any of the episodes he was in. She was smart for that.
Ah and, I really am posting those stories now! Here:
