I’m pretty sure I came to this life to read books and eat chocolate. 🙂

There are worse purposes, I suppose.

When I was little, books weren’t hobbies — they were oxygen. Stories weren’t something I consumed. They were places I lived.

And one of those places was Neverland.

When I first read Peter Pan, I didn’t experience it as analysis or symbolism.

I experienced it as truth.

“All children, except one, grow up.”

That first line felt less like a statement and more like a challenge.

Of course children can fly.
Of course growing up is suspicious.
Of course imagination is a form of rebellion.

Peter wasn’t irresponsible to me. He was free.
Wendy wasn’t naïve. She was brave enough to love and still choose to grow.

And maybe that’s why I’m starting this blog here — with a book about staying young in spirit while time insists on moving forward.

“Aren’t You Too Old for That?”

Recently, someone asked me — kindly, but with genuine confusion — how I still read middle grade and fantasy novels at my age.

I laughed.

I don’t know what it feels like to be sixty.
But I know exactly what it feels like to be seventeen.
And I definitely know what it feels like to be nine or ten — curled up somewhere quiet, heart wide open.

Why would I abandon her?

Peter Pan once says:

“The moment you doubt whether you can fly, you cease for ever to be able to do it.”

I think that’s true far beyond Neverland.

The moment we doubt our joy…
Our curiosity…
Our softness…
We start shrinking.

Going back to these stories doesn’t make me childish.

It keeps me airborne.

Why I’m Revisiting My Childhood Favorites

This blog is, in part, a return.

I want to revisit the books that built me — to see what still fits, what feels different, and what was quietly forming the woman I would become.

Because I don’t believe we outgrow stories.
I think we grow into them.

And perhaps my favorite line of all:

“To live will be an awfully big adventure.”

As a child, that meant pirates and mermaids.

As an adult, it means hormones, healing, boundaries, reinvention, and yes — still magic.

Middle grade and fantasy remain earnest. Brave. Unapologetic about wonder.

In a world that sometimes feels heavy, wonder is medicinal.

Remember Who You Were

Before productivity.
Before comparison.
Before algorithms told you what to care about.

What did you love?

Did you draw?
Climb things?
Collect rocks?
Write stories in the margins of your notebooks?
Read past your bedtime with a flashlight?

There’s information there.

When someone questions why I still read these books, what I hear underneath is: Shouldn’t you have moved on by now?

But moved on to what?
More seriousness?
Less magic?
A narrower version of myself?

I don’t think growing up means abandoning joy.
I think it means choosing it on purpose.

I’m starting this blog because I want a space where we’re allowed to hold onto the parts of ourselves that felt most alive.

Where rereading Peter Pan isn’t regression — it’s remembrance.

Where books and hormones and chocolate and healing can exist in the same breath.

Where we can grow… without disappearing.

If you’re still carrying your younger self somewhere inside you — the dreamer, the reader, the believer — you’re in the right place.

Let’s visit Neverland again.

And this time, let’s bring our adult wisdom with us.

🍫 A Little Chocolate Ritual

Because this is Books, Hormones & Chocolate, we need a proper send-off.

Tonight (or whenever you’re reading this):

1. Break off a square of dark chocolate.

2. Take a breath before you eat it.

3. Ask yourself: What did I love when I was nine?

4. Let the memory surface without judging it.

Maybe it’s reading fantasy novels.
Maybe it’s drawing dragons.
Maybe it’s climbing something you weren’t supposed to climb.

That memory isn’t silly.

It’s data.

It’s a breadcrumb back to yourself.

💬 Tell Me

What was your favorite book when you were a child — and do you still think about it?

Or…

What did you love doing before the world told you to be practical?

I would genuinely love to know. Let’s build this little Neverland together.

With love, stories, and steady healing,
Stasha
Books, Hormones & Chocolate 🤎📚🍫