As a child my favorite book in the whole world was “Anne of Green Gables”. I read and reread it so often that the cover fell off and bits of it were so ingrained in my memory I confused them with reality. While the young Anne bumbled through life with an imagination so large as to be extraordinary I related to her
in way I haven’t connected with a character since.

She bemoaned her bright red hair and I longed to have her hair. I wore pigtails like she did and I imagined myself in puffed sleeves just as often as she did. She walked through life nose in a book, mind lost in fantasy, and I was thrilled to have someone who saw the world as fantastical and tragic as I did.

A good friend of mine read the series as well. We bonded over the story so much that we saw each other as Anne and Diana. Even now years later as we have grown apart our friendship still brightens my heart and I think of her as my Diana.

I imagine that I have found my Gilbert Blythe in my husband. And as I rewatch the movie (oh Megan Follows!) it all comes back to me fondly. I love and relate to Anne even now. Her emotions are heightened and color everything she does as do mine. She is forgetful and clumsy but so full of life you can’t help but smile when she enters a room. I imagine that is how people see me.

In all honesty I cannot wait to have a daughter so that I can read the series with her. I hope despite the time of the book she will love Anne as I do. She will see a kindred soul in Anne as I do or at the very least I hope she sees her mother still lost walking the White Way of Delight.

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Anne and Diane

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