I have exactly 33 stuffed animals in my room, including a terrifyingly long Furby. Thirty-three may be more than enough for one person, and there’s no particular reason for needing a long Furby, but each creature represents a key moment from 16 years of ups and downs. Think of them as core memories from the “Inside Out” film series: together, they form part of my identity. How they manage this, though, is what I hold closest to my heart: through stuffed animals, I grew closer to the people I cherish in my life.

Stuffed animals were present in my earliest memories. When my family brought me to America for the first time at one year old, my parents bought me a stuffed horse as a gift. Nicknamed Xiaoma, Chinese for “little horse,” this horse quickly became a household name, familiar to my parents and maternal grandmother, and an instant favorite of mine. I would often refer to it as if it were a younger sibling, treating it with all the care that I would lavish on my own little brother in a few years. Many of my childhood photos also contain Xiaoma, clasped in an arm or held tightly with two tiny hands. Now, when I look back at past photo albums and videos, I see Xiaoma in hand, a warm reminder of my parents’ affection.

My little brother joined the stuffed animal craze when he was a second grader, before I entered high school. Our shared love for stuffed animals brought us closer as siblings, although I failed to recognize it until we both grew busier. He would often take the little creatures out of the closet and arrange them on my bed, then ask me to make up a scenario for us to act out. The melodramatic voices and strange events that would ensue always made him laugh, and we would even make amateur videos featuring the stuffed animals.

Of course, I found the process occasionally dull or annoying at the time, but looking back now, I realize that the stuffed animals were a way for my brother to spend time with me when I was otherwise busy with school or extracurriculars. Since we tended to spend most of our free time separately, we likely would not be as close as we are today without stuffed animals to bond over. It has become a tradition of sorts between us to revisit the mini-movies we made or pull a couple of stuffed animals out of their storage space just to talk.

Overall, my stuffed animals are more than just balls of fluff to me. Just like a puzzle, fit together with pieces of my family’s love, my collection is a constant source of comfort. Although they may not have much practical use beyond serving as mini pillows or decoration, together they are a representation of my entire life. Often they are frowned upon as too immature for teenagers, but they serve as links between me and the people I value. Besides, we can all hold onto a bit of childhood in our lives, even if the method is via long Furbies.