This Isn’t About Stickers

When I was younger, I collected stickers like they were sacred. The shinier they were, the more carefully I hid them away. They sat untouched in drawers, pencil pouches, and notebooks I never wrote in. I told myself I was saving them for something special —something worthy. But really, I was just afraid.

Afraid of choosing wrong.

Afraid of wasting beauty.

Afraid of something so permanent.

Because one thing about stickers: once you place them, they’re stuck. And there’s something about that kind of commitment that felt… heavy. Final. I wasn’t emotionally stable enough for that kind of responsibility—not for a sticker, and honestly, not for a lot of things.

But here’s what I’ve learned growing up:

It was never just about stickers.

It was about joy. About how often I delayed it—thinking I had to earn it.

It was about decisions. About being so scared of choosing wrong, I avoided choosing at all.

It was about relationships, too. I’ve seen myself do the same thing with people—holding back love, fearing the hurt that might follow. Keeping the good moments tucked away like they might break if I actually lived them.

It was about family. About wanting to protect the fragile connections, but sometimes holding them too tightly, too carefully, and missing the moment we were in.

It was about life. How many times I paused, waited, hesitated—telling myself I’d do it when I felt ready, when things were perfect, when it made sense. But perfection is a myth, and waiting only makes the joy grow dust.

Now, I do things differently.

I stick the sticker.

I write in the journal with messy handwriting.

I light the candle I used to keep in the box.

I say the words I used to save.

I forgive faster. I cry when I need to. I let people in.

I choose, even when I’m unsure.

I live, even if I’m scared.

Because beauty isn’t meant to sit untouched in a drawer.

Love isn’t meant to be held back out of fear.

And life isn’t meant to be saved for later.

I used to think sticking the sticker meant it was over. Now I know—it means it happened. It meant I was here. That I chose joy in that moment. That I honored what I felt, even if it didn’t last forever.

So here’s my gentle reminder to you:

Use the good things. Say the hard things. Wear what makes you feel most like yourself. Love like it’s real—because it is. And when the moment comes, don’t wait for perfect. Stick the sticker.

Because if you know, you know—

It was never just about the sticker.

It was about every version of you that was afraid to take up space,

to choose joy, to make a mark.

It was never about the sticker.

It was always about choosing you.

And finally—you did.

xo, Ayesh