When I was a kid, I had this obsessive tendency to collect things. Whether it were erasers, pens or rocks, I accumulated these objects like they were the most valuable things I could ever own. It came to the point that my sisters would actually devise ways to sneak into my room and "peek" at my stationery box. It. Was. A. Big. Deal.
In the process of cleaning out my room, I’ve discovered a lot of my old collections. All immaculate and carefully stored. Yet, instead of feeling nostalgic, I found myself confused - wondering why I had put so much value on these little things. Suddenly, it seemed so strange to keep things that were either meant to be used (like pens and stationery) or quite useless in the first place (like rocks and clay houses).
These were things which my younger self had saved for the future. But now that it was the future (from the perspective of 1986), I simply did not find these things important. So, slowly (and quite ruthlessly) I started giving them away.
my notebook collection...
my pencil toppers collection...
Remember when trolls were so "in"? ;)
...and my stationery collection
All of these were acquired through a sophisticated barter system developed by other preteen girls with collections.
My siblings were horrified – stating that I had grown up to become a cold, pragmatic, heartless soul who lost the magic or wonder associated with childhood. I retorted that it was time to let go. That when you start working, moving from one rented apartment to the next, and budgeting your pay check, keeping a stationery collection would just be a waste of time.
But then I saw this:
And I just couldn’t give it away.
Perhaps there's still some heart in me after all.
PS. Thanks Mama for patiently accompanying your daughter to the sticker store where she would browse for hours...deciding which one was worth her 10 peso budget for that day.I think that that's what made this collection a lot more special :)