As a kid, I fondly remember watching my Mom’s fingers flip the paper pages of my small, colourful book. The cover showcased a pink blob, with many more images inside. After asking my Mom if we could read the “pink blob book” for bedtime, I noticed her lips shape into a smile as she explained to me that it was called a jellyfish, not a blob. After learning the title for this blob-like creature, I caught onto the fact that it was indeed a jellyfish, but I continued to address it as a pink blob, secretly to get the little smile that filled my Mom’s face when I did. I loved to see her happy, it would always make me smile – this book became my favourite of all time.

In my first year of preschool, I was enrolled in a class filled with a handful of boys, and many girls. Each of them looked different, dressed in their uniquely chosen clothes. Some were covered in bright colours and flowers, while others wore clothes with more of a subtle and natural touch. Nonetheless, they all expressed a sense of friendliness, each in their own way. Being so young, I was filled with joy at the opportunity to play with my new friends, and participate in fun activities. For a little girl, it was all that was wished for.

On our first day at school, our teacher, Mrs. Wilson walked around the room asking each of us what our favourite animal was. As she approached me, I reminded myself that the name was a jellyfish, not a pink blob. I knew she would not understand me if I had referred to it other than its proper name. Even though I was cautious with my speaking, when I spoke, her face was overcome with a blank stare. She had never heard of a little girl’s favourite animal being a jellyfish. This took me by surprise. I had never considered a jellyfish to be an uncommon animal to love. My face scrunched up at the thought. She smiled and expressed how she thought it was wonderful that I loved jellyfish, and explained that it made me unique, apologizing for if she had made it seem otherwise.

The years went on and as I went through the grades in elementary school, my love for jellyfish grew with me. My tiny room became filled with images and items showcasing the miraculous creature. I did not realise how full my room had become until I looked around. Their colourful pictures filled my walls to the point where I was not aware of what colour lay behind them, and right from the ceiling to the soft carpet, my shelves became full of jellyfish stuffies. They gave me a sense of warmth, and allowed for a conversation starter between my Mom and I. Every once in a while, my Mom would stroll into my room, her eyes gazing from left to right, taking notice of the little creatures shown all around. I watched as she would sit down and her hands would rub over the little designs on my blanket, her hand slightly raising as she passed over each one. They were her idea. She always took a moment to express, with a smile on her face, how much she adored my long-lasting love for the creature. Her smile was always contagious, and I could not help but smile as well.

As the years went on, the end of grade eleven seemed to have come in a blink of an eye. Before I knew it our teachers were handing us pamphlets left and right, continually reminding us that we were needing to apply to universities in the fall. I looked around to see the panicked look on some people’s faces, and the occasional voice saying how they had no clue what they were going to do after high school. This was not the case for me, I was set on specialising in jellyfish in marine biology. There was nothing else I could imagine setting out to do. Numerous times I had visited aquariums and seen the creatures moving through the tanks in a way that seemed magical, but I knew nothing could live up to the real experience. My dream was to be in the ocean, swimming next to them.

Quickly enough, my room became full of brown packing boxes. There were ten days until I set out to the University of Hawaii, and my Mom and I were rushing to pack up my belongings. I never realized that this day would come so fast. My Mom and I split the packing, and I heard a slight giggle escape from her mouth as she packed the items. I quickly glanced her way to see her smile, not thinking anything of it. The boxes I was bringing with me were full of the necessities; including my clothes, toiletries, and food. I was sad to recognize that the majority of my items would have to remain here. Fortunately, I was able to bring some of my colourful photos that had once hung on my wall. It would have to do.

Box after box, I unpacked. Beginning to fill my new dorm room with my items – never noticing how it looked so bland before. I found the few photos that I had brought along to spice up the room a bit, and provide me with a sense of familiarity. While opening the box my Mom had packed for me, I was surprised to see she had squeezed in an extra book. My hand reached deep down into the box, finally gripping onto my favourite thing of all. I wiped off the dust, to reveal my pink blob book. The memories from my childhood came flashing back as if it were yesterday, and I remembered where my love for jellyfish had come from. I smiled, as I knew that it was my Mom who had placed it there for me to find.