As I rifle through a green bin of dresses, I grin. I see a mass of lilac and ribbon. I put it first on myself, then dressed my American Girl doll in a matching one. I place a braided crown of gold on her head. I comb a matching one into mine. I rush upstairs, doll in hand, to find my mom in the kitchen. It’s her birthday, and I’ve decided to dress up as my favorite princess for the occasion.
These are my memories of lilac.
I found a Disney edition of Just Dance when I was younger. Despite the many dances from Disney movies and Disney Channel shows, I always wanted to do the Tangled dance. I would beg my brother, cousin, mom, dad, and basically, anyone around to perform it with me—it was a duet after all. Or, I would dance alone, my eyes never leaving the purple figure meant to be Rapunzel.
Lilac, for me, is growing up. It’s infatuation. It’s pure bliss.
Growing up, my winter and spring breaks—and weeks of summer—were spent in “The Most Magical Place on Earth.” I knew my way around the four Disney World theme parks like I was born with the maps in my brain. I would walk around the parks, clad in Disney princess apparel. Or, I’d be wearing my lilac, fleece Tinker Bell zip-up hoodie. We’d tour the topiary statues at the annual Flower and Garden Festival at Epcot. And one fateful year, we saw the tower from Tangled, engulfed in the glow of Rapunzel’s hair below the lilac roof.
Lilac, for me, is growing up. It’s infatuation. It’s pure bliss.
Rapunzel was the personification of Lilac. I grew up wanting to be her. She was my dream—my goal. I wished to look like her, to be like her, to see the world like her. And in a way, I still hope for that.
Even now, with long blonde wavy hair, posing in a lilac dress for my senior photos, I’m not sure I’ve become who young Kiera wanted me to be. But then I remember that in her eyes, I am everything she’s ever wanted to be and more. In her eyes, I am lilac.
Lilac reminds me to view the world as if I still know nothing about it; to see the joy before the pain. To look for the sun after the rain. Lilac is my most forgotten memory, and I’m just starting to see it again.
