002/365 - What is your happiest childhood memory?

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What is your happiest childhood memory?

If I had to start a story of tragedy, it would definitely be my own personal story, as my happiest memories are tangled with sad memories, traumas, and chaos—like bright stars constantly at risk of being devoured by black holes.

The beautiful thing about this, which relates to my post about friendships yesterday, is that it was precisely my childhood friends who made my life more bearable and beautiful during those storms of confusion when I barely understood what was happening around me.

My first happy childhood memory was when I met a boy named Rodrigo. Dark hair, tan skin, dark eyes, and a bright little smile that lit up even the cloudiest days. Rodrigo and I attended the same kindergarten. I don’t remember the name of the institution, but I remember it was inside a military facility called Campo de Mayo. Rodrigo’s father was a military aviator, and my father… for some reason, thought it was a good idea to enroll me there. I still have no idea how, since only children of military families were allowed there. The houses were white and similar to each other, the streets had neatly trimmed grass, the roofs were reddish, and the curbs were made of red brick. There were few cars in that part of the base where all the military families lived. You had to cross a beautiful arch and walk through a park with red flowers on the trees before reaching the kindergarten.

I don’t know when it started, but seeing Rodrigo made me happy. I remember going to his house, where he caught a baby bat in his hands and showed it to me with childlike fascination—we were both enchanted by the tiny creature until it flew away. We played sports, we played hide-and-seek, and every time he found me, we burst into laughter. We recreated movies with our toys, and I remember using masks so we could give each other a kiss on the lips. Never truly touching, but in that moment, we were the princess and prince of a fairy tale.

My last happy memory with Rodrigo was a bike ride around the base. I sat on the handlebars in front of him, and he told me about all the beautiful places around the base, talking about the trees and the memories he had with his father there—whom he missed dearly.

One day, his father was transferred to another base in a different province, far from Buenos Aires, and Rodrigo had to leave.

I still remember the bitterness of knowing he was leaving forever. And although I wanted to stay in touch with him, I never could.

Sometimes I wonder if he remembers me with the same joy.
It makes me so happy just to remember that he existed.

Moving on to another happy memory and diving a little more into my lore—I finished kindergarten and entered primary school. At six years old, I still didn’t understand much about the world around me, but I started noticing how it was divided—something I might have already sensed with Rodrigo.

The world was split into the “girls’ world” and the “boys’ world.” And if you wanted to be part of both, like I did with Rodrigo, you were outcast. You couldn’t do that. I was “too much of a boy to be with the girls” and “too much of a girl to be with the boys.” So little Jaden spent recesses trying to find a place to fit in, becoming the target of laughter, bullying, and having my school supplies stolen. On top of that, I was seen as a “weirdo” for having good grades. But I’ve always been talkative, curious, and friendly by nature. I didn’t isolate myself by choice—I simply didn’t fit in.

And in that chaos, which could have made anyone feel sad, I found Máximo.

Máximo was a boy with chestnut curls, fair skin, and almond-colored eyes. He had no hesitation in trying to befriend me from the very first moment he saw me.

It’s hard for me to keep writing without pausing.

Máximo played with me, sharing all his “boy toys” with me—even though all I had was a set of Dragon Ball Z cards, which I treasured with all my heart. He didn’t mind when I chose to be a Power Ranger that wasn’t necessarily the pink one, since at that time, my childhood was still considered “feminine” by external eyes. I remember that once I started insisting on having “boy action figures” and my mom bought them for me, I would trade them with him. He gave me a Captain America figure, and I still remember promising to return it.

By a twist of fate, he was transferred to another school at the same time I was also transferred. Our paths separated for years.

But unlike Rodrigo, Facebook allowed me to find him. Now we talk as adults, reminiscing about those sweet childhood moments. And occasionally, I’ve even run into him on the streets. A simple "hello" still lights up my heart.

I don’t know if I can say I had a happy childhood or not. But I can definitely say I have very, very happy memories—with people I would love to see again.

I hope that those people I remember so fondly know the beautiful impact they had on this child's life.

And I hope they are happy and loved, just as I am every time I remember them.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: *:･ﾟ✧

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This concludes my second entry for this challenge—it has definitely been an interesting one!
I want to take a moment to thank Nick the G! I’ve been reading your posts, and I’m so happy you joined the challenge of journaling for an entire year! It’s so exciting to see how much we have in common! <3

It’s completely normal to feel overwhelmed when starting a blog, but you can keep it simple, add a template, and write whatever you want—there’s no right or wrong way to do it. Perfection is not something we seek in this house!

However, your comments mean so much to me, and I really related to what you wrote about being a rollercoaster—ah! The highs and lows of life, the emotions, the duality that seems to split our lives, making it hard to find balance in this fast-moving world.

The beautiful thing about you being perceptive is that you can see the most wonderful things this world has to offer. And while you also notice the negatives—the darkness that covers our universe—it’s true that this is a gift that genuinely helps you. Speaking as someone sensitive myself, I can say that finding those little details in life, those special highlights, makes everything more enjoyable and beautiful in my eyes.

And it makes me so happy that your determination guides you to where you want to be.
I think my favorite line from your post is:

"No matter how many roadblocks are there, if I want to get something, I will."

Bro, the way I felt that in my heart is inexplicable! I just had to share it, and I think it’s the perfect way to close today’s entry!

See you all tomorrow, my shining stars! And Nick, keep writing! Keep going—you are amazing!

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: *:･ﾟ✧

Thank you for reading till here… 💜