There is a line in a Taylor Swift song, where she sings, “When you are young, they assume you know nothing.” We don’t give kids enough credit. Children know who they are. They know what they like. They know what lights them up. They move through the world with confidence, until they don’t. Until jaded adults come along to teach them how to shrink into the boxes society assigns. Then those kids, fresh with new insecurities, turn around and pass that message along to their peers. Kids start policing themselves and pull away from the things they love, because they don’t want to be kicked out of the in-group. Unless, of course, you were a weird kid who didn’t care about the group, and I was one of those (maybe you were too).

Sometimes I think about Little Me, who was always so self-assured. She knew exactly who she was (even when other people tried to talk her out of it). Because my whole life, I only wanted two things: horses and art. That’s it. That’s always been it. I’ve pursued those interests in a thousand different ways, exploring, pivoting, reinventing the meaning of it all a hundred times over. And at thirty-seven, I want to hug my eleven-year-old self and say, “Come hell or high water, we’re doing the damn thing. I promise.” And I know that little girl would look up at me, so full of confidence and fire, and say, “Of course we are.” In her mind, there was never any other option.

“Okay, now open your eyes” is a love letter for that. Because my god, I am going to give that little girl the world and I hope you do the same for yours.