One night, at my grandma’s house, everything changed for me without me even realizing it. We were all gathered like we always were, voices overlapping and my grandma fussing over everyone and offering more food, even though we were all already full. I was sitting at the dining table, scrolling through dessert photos on my phone and casually showing my family the kinds of treats I could make. Nothing serious, nothing professional. Just something I enjoyed.

But then my aunt leaned in, her eyes lightened up.

“I’m actually attending a baby shower soon”, she said. “Do you think you could make these blue, bear themed decorated sugar cookies for it?”

My heart dropped for a moment.

“Yes!” I answered way too confidently. “I can do that”.

Inside, I was panicking. I had never made decorated cookies like that. I didn’t know how to pipe, flood, outline, or draw a bear on anything, let alone twenty cookies. But surrounded by family, I said “yes” anyways.

I spent the rest of the night at my grandma's house overthinking, calling my experienced friend for help. She told me she'd assist me... but that help never happened.

The next morning, I woke up determined to figure it out myself. I went straight to the supermarket and filled my cart with everything: powdered sugar, flour, butter, food coloring, piping bags, cookie cutters, things I recognized only from baking videos. I didn't know exactly what I needed, so I bought anything that looked remotely helpful.

Then came the trial and error.

Cookies that spread too much.
Cookies that cracked.
Icing that was too runny.
Icing that turned into cement.
Bears that looked... questionable.

My kitchen became a powdered sugar disaster zone. I watched tutorials, googled every problem, and practiced until I got tired of looking at cookies and liquified sugar.

But slowly, one shaky outline and one careful bear at a time, the cookies started looking somewhat presentable. They started looking real. When I finished all twenty, neatly wrapped, packaged up, and ready for my aunt, I couldn't believe I actually did it.

A few hours later, my cousin and my uncle came to my house to pick up the cookies for my aunt. I handed the boxes over to them, nervous all over again, my stomach in knots.

They both leaned in. My uncle's eyes widened.

“Annelise... These look like they're from an actual bakery”.

My cousin nodded immediately. “No, seriously. These look professional. You made these? They are too perfect to be homemade."

“Wait... really?” I asked, half laughing. “It was my first time”.

And in that moment, something clicked. Something shifted. I thought their reaction was the end of the whole stressful adventure.

But it was the beginning of everything.

Family members started “Ordering” cookies, then friends, then people I barely even knew. I decorated constantly, practiced non stop, and eventually made an instagram page. Actual orders started rolling in, one after another, and with every batch, my skills grew. My confidence grew. It started becoming not just something I did, but something I was.

What started as one stressful night turned into something real, something that became a part of me. From panic, to a morning store run, to twenty little blue bear cookies that unexpectedly changed the direction of my life.