I am just a girl chasing her dreams and having an amazing

Host:
The morning sky was painted in wild strokes of orange and pink, like a promise written by sunlight. The air smelled of rain and freedom, the kind that carries both the sting of yesterday and the thrill of tomorrow.

Down by the edge of a quiet coastal town, the boardwalk was waking up — gulls calling, waves whispering against wood, and the faint hum of a world in motion.

On a bench facing the sea sat Jeeny, her long black hair whipped into a storm by the wind, a sketchbook open on her knees. The pages fluttered, half-filled with drawings of faces, cities, dreams — glimpses of a life in pursuit of something bigger than fear.

Jack approached from behind, coffee cups in hand, his jacket half-buttoned, eyes still carrying the weight of a night without sleep. He handed her one without a word.

Jeeny smiled, tucking a loose strand behind her ear. Between them on the bench lay a folded piece of paper she’d torn from a magazine, the quote underlined in ink:

“I am just a girl chasing her dreams and having an amazing adventure.”
— Madeline Stuart

Jeeny: (softly) Isn’t that beautiful? So simple. So honest.

Jack: (sits beside her) Simple’s the hardest kind of truth to say.

Jeeny: (smiling) You mean people always make it complicated?

Jack: (nods) Yeah. Most people don’t chase dreams. They chase explanations for why they didn’t.

Jeeny: (quietly) I think that’s why I love what she said. She doesn’t justify it. Doesn’t make it poetic. Just living it.

Jack: (smiles faintly) “Just a girl chasing her dreams.” Sounds like the kind of thing you’d write in your journal.

Jeeny: (laughs softly) Maybe I did once. Maybe I still do.

Host: The wind howled briefly, lifting a few pages of her sketchbook, exposing sketches of faraway places — mountain trails, crowded markets, open skies. Jack glanced at them, his expression caught between admiration and something heavier, like envy.

Jack: (after a moment) You really believe it’s that easy? Chasing dreams, I mean.

Jeeny: (gently) It’s not supposed to be easy. It’s supposed to be worth it.

Jack: (sighs) You make it sound romantic. But most people are too busy surviving to go adventuring.

Jeeny: (turns to him) Maybe survival is the adventure.

Jack: (frowning slightly) That’s too optimistic, even for you.

Jeeny: (softly) No, Jack. Think about it — every day you wake up and choose to keep trying, that’s its own kind of heroism.

Jack: (quietly) You sound like someone who’s never been tired.

Jeeny: (pauses) I’m always tired. I just refuse to let it become who I am.

Host: The waves crashed a little harder now, spraying salt and light. The horizon glowed — wild, untamed, infinite. Jeeny sipped her coffee, her eyes following a fishing boat crawling slowly toward open water.

Jeeny: (smiling) You know who Madeline Stuart is, right?

Jack: (nods) The model with Down syndrome. First of her kind to walk the runway.

Jeeny: (softly) Yeah. The world told her who she couldn’t be. She decided to show them instead.

Jack: (quietly) Brave woman.

Jeeny: (smiling faintly) Brave girl. She still calls herself that. I love that. The humility of it. “Just a girl.” Not a hero. Not a symbol. Just someone trying to live fully.

Jack: (after a pause) That’s what makes it powerful. She’s not chasing fame. She’s chasing joy.

Jeeny: (nodding) And that’s why her life became art.

Host: A group of kids ran by, chasing each other down the boardwalk, their laughter bright and echoing. One tripped and fell, then got up again, grinning, brushing off his scraped knees. Jeeny smiled — there it was, the metaphor made flesh.

Jack: (quietly) I used to have dreams like that once.

Jeeny: (turns toward him) Used to?

Jack: (nods) Yeah. I thought I’d travel the world, write a book, make something that mattered. Then life happened — bills, responsibilities, fear.

Jeeny: (gently) Fear’s a thief that wears logic’s face.

Jack: (smirks) You should write that one down.

Jeeny: (softly) Maybe I already did.

Jack: (looking out at the sea) You think it’s ever too late to start again?

Jeeny: (without hesitation) Never. Dreams don’t expire, Jack. People just stop reaching for them.

Host: The sky brightened, the clouds peeling apart. Somewhere far out at sea, a ship glimmered in sunlight — small, but moving.

Jack: (after a pause) You ever wonder if chasing dreams is selfish?

Jeeny: (thoughtful) It depends. If your dream is about escaping, maybe. But if it’s about becoming, then it’s a gift.

Jack: (softly) Becoming what?

Jeeny: (smiles) The person you were before the world told you to be practical.

Jack: (quietly) I don’t even remember who that was.

Jeeny: (gently) Then maybe that’s the first adventure — finding out.

Host: A seagull cried overhead, the sound sharp and free. Jack leaned back, closing his eyes against the light. For the first time in a long while, the silence between them didn’t feel empty — it felt open.

Jeeny: (after a moment) You know what I think’s amazing?

Jack: (without opening his eyes) Enlighten me.

Jeeny: (softly) That we keep trying. We get our hearts broken, our hopes bruised — and still, we wake up chasing something beautiful. That’s what keeps the world spinning.

Jack: (smiling faintly) That’s also what makes it hurt.

Jeeny: (quietly) But what’s life without the ache of trying?

Jack: (after a pause) Empty.

Jeeny: (smiling) Exactly.

Host: The light danced across the waves, reflecting gold onto their faces. The wind lifted the page with the quote again, pressing it briefly against Jeeny’s knee before sending it fluttering toward the sand. She didn’t reach for it. Some truths, once read, don’t need to be kept — only lived.

Jack: (after a long pause) You really think anyone can live like that? Always chasing, always amazed?

Jeeny: (softly) Not always. But even one moment of amazement makes all the ordinary worth it.

Jack: (smiles) That’s a good line for a story.

Jeeny: (grinning) It already is one.

Host: The waves broke louder now, the sea alive with motion and color. The day had begun — another chapter in their own unspoken adventure.

Host (closing):
The world, vast and unpredictable, stretched out before them —
a canvas of risk and reward, of beauty and uncertainty.

“I am just a girl chasing her dreams and having an amazing adventure.”

And perhaps that’s all anyone ever really is —
a traveler through their own story,
a heartbeat daring to continue,
a soul willing to stay curious,
even when the path blurs.

Because the adventure isn’t in the destination —
it’s in the becoming,
the falling,
the getting up again,
the wild faith that life can still surprise us.

As Jack and Jeeny stood and began walking down the sunlit boardwalk,
their shadows stretched long across the planks,
merging with the light that danced between sea and sky —
two dreamers, two wanderers,
carried forward by wind, by wonder,
and by the quiet, infinite courage
of chasing an amazing adventure.