marihamacher

My name is Charlotte, and I just turned eighteen. This age feels like a door that has just opened a crack, and I'm standing on the threshold, not daring to step in. I was born and live in France, a country where morning coffee lasts longer than other conversations, and silence can speak louder than words. Outwardly, I may seem restrained, almost cold, but this is just a shell. Life is constantly boiling inside me: thoughts, doubts, dreams that I rarely show. I love black, not because it's dark, but because it's honest. He's not trying to seem like something else. At eighteen, I learn the main thing: to be honest with myself. I know there are a lot of mistakes ahead, and it seems like for the first time in my life, I'm not afraid of that. I want to live my youth not perfectly, but authentically