Rowan Blanchard didn't just want to write a book; she wanted to prove she existed. It sounds dramatic, I know. But when you’re sixteen and the entire world is watching you grow up through a Disney Channel lens, existence feels kinda flimsy. That's essentially the heartbeat of Still Here Rowan Blanchard, a project that is less of a traditional memoir and more of a messy, beautiful, and occasionally frustrating time capsule of what it actually feels like to be a teenager.
Most people expected a glossy "how-to" guide or a collection of "Girl Meets World" set secrets. They didn't get that. Instead, they got a raw compilation of diary entries, Polaroid photos, and taped-in letters. Honestly, it’s the kind of thing you’d find hidden under a mattress, not sitting on a Barnes & Noble shelf.
The Scrapbook That Defied Celebrity Expectations
When Still Here dropped in early 2018 via Razorbill, it confused a lot of adults. They looked at the scribbled handwriting and the random photos of messy bedrooms and wondered where the "content" was. But for the teens who bought it, the lack of "polished" content was exactly the point.
Rowan started this project when she was only twelve. Think about that for a second. While most of us were just trying to survive middle school gym class, she was already "making, collecting, and editing" pieces of her life. She teamed up with her cousin, who worked in publishing, to bring this vision to life. It wasn't about being a "brand." It was about the fact that she was—well—still here.
The book is 176 pages of organized chaos. It’s got art and writing from people who actually inspire her, like Rupi Kaur, Gia Coppola, and Jenny Zhang. These aren't just random celebrity cameos. They are contributions that mesh with Rowan's own explorations of intersectional feminism, anxiety, and the weirdness of growing up in public.
👉 See also: Martha Stewart Young Modeling: What Most People Get Wrong
Why the "Still Here" Format Actually Matters
You've probably seen books that try to look "indie" or "aesthetic." Usually, it feels fake. Like a marketing team tried to guess what a teenager’s Pinterest board looks like.
Still Here Rowan Blanchard feels different because it doesn't try to hide the ugly parts.
- Rawness: There are actual tear stains (or at least, the visual representation of them).
- Collaborative Spirit: Samera Paz contributed images of the 2015 Freddie Gray protests, bringing a heavy, necessary dose of reality to the book.
- Interactivity: This is the part that usually gets missed—the end of the book has blank, numbered pages. The index lists the contributor for those pages as "You."
It’s an invitation. Rowan is basically saying, "I’m navigating this mess, and I know you are too, so here’s some space for your own garbage." It’s sort of a radical move for a "teen star" to hand over the mic like that.
Breaking Down the Themes Nobody Talks About
We talk a lot about the "aesthetic" of Rowan Blanchard, but the actual text of Still Here dives into some pretty heavy stuff. She doesn't shy away from her battle with anxiety. In the book, she details the crushing weight of living up to expectations—both the ones she set for herself and the ones a million strangers on Instagram set for her.
✨ Don't miss: Ethan Slater and Frankie Grande: What Really Happened Behind the Scenes
She also tackles the #MeToo movement and the way social media acts as a double-edged sword. It’s a place for connection, sure, but it’s also a place where you constantly compare your "behind-the-scenes" to everyone else’s "highlight reel." Rowan is very vocal about how curated life can feel, and this book is her attempt to de-curate it.
The inclusion of Jenny Zhang and Rupi Kaur adds a layer of depth that keeps the book from feeling self-indulgent. Kaur’s illustrations focus on finding strength in pain, while Coppola’s photography captures the mundane, gritty reality of just... hanging out. It’s a love letter to the "in-between" moments of life.
The Misconception of the "Teen Girl" Label
One thing Rowan was very clear about in interviews (like the one she did with W Magazine) is that she didn't view this book as being strictly for "teenage girls."
"It's just about growing up, whenever that is," she said.
🔗 Read more: Leonardo DiCaprio Met Gala: What Really Happened with His Secret Debut
She’s right. Growth doesn't stop at twenty. The feelings of being misunderstood, the fear of being forgotten, and the struggle to define your own identity are universal. The "Still Here" title refers to survival. It’s a reminder that despite the digital noise and the social pressure, the core "you" is still present.
Practical Takeaways from Still Here
If you’re looking at Still Here Rowan Blanchard today, years after its release, it still holds up as a blueprint for creative expression. It teaches us a few things that are arguably more relevant in 2026 than they were in 2018:
- Document Everything: Even the stuff that feels "boring" or "sad." It becomes the texture of your history.
- Vulnerability is a Tool: Rowan didn't lose power by admitting she was anxious; she gained a community.
- Physical Media is Gold: In a world where everything is on a cloud, having a physical book with "taped-in" memories is a form of rebellion.
- Collaborate Up: She didn't just work with her peers; she reached out to icons like Rupi Kaur. Don't be afraid to ask for contributions from people you admire.
To truly appreciate the book, you have to stop looking for a plot. There isn't one. There’s just a person, trying to find their footing while the ground is moving.
If you want to dive deeper into this kind of creative journaling, start by grabbing a physical notebook. Ignore the "aesthetic" for a second. Paste in a receipt from a day you felt happy. Write down a sentence someone said that made you angry. Use the blank pages at the end of Rowan’s book if you have it. The goal isn't to make art; the goal is to leave a trail so that later on, you can look back and see that you were, in fact, there.