When you’re happy, you might remember how it felt to be fourteen. Your body was slender and your skin was still clear. You were usually allowed to devote your all of your free time to your own passions, which included books, being outside, boys, and eyeliner. Your voice, when you use it, is languid and spoiled sounding. Like pampered pet, the vowels are drawn out, the syllables clipped.
But really, you can’t imagine how wonderful it is to be grown, with rounded hips and a full chest. To have someone love you, and to have given birth to a small, warm infant. You and your husband will take that infant home, and fuss over his every movement. He will grow up as you grow older.
And now your voice has grown deeper, has lost the spoiled tones of your youth, and has developed a mature cadence. You’ve found there is still time for sitting in magnolias and smelling the white perfumed blossoms.