14.

She was once small.
Her fingers were tattooed with marker ink
Her voice was a giggle
Happy to be seven, then to be ten
Hating olives
Given to fits of rage
That would drift out to sea
and vanish

She never dreamed of marriage
Of being a white princess,
But now there's a tiny diamond on her finger
And she has just cut her bangs.
Doors have opened
And she has walked through them
Again and again
Until she got here.

She cannot doubt now
Every past version of herself
Who looked at each of those doors
Then said,
"Yes, this is the one"
And walked through.