Childhood Nostalgia: The Fear of Growing Up

 

First, a song to set the mood: "Where'd All the Time Go?" by Dr. Dog. And now for some films that give the same feeling as this post, "The Florida Project" and "Where the Wild Things Are." 

I never realized how fast time truly passes until I found myself, at 22 years old, willing to give up anything to be a child once again. My mother always said, "Time flies," but when I sat in my fifth-grade classroom, all I could think about was how slow time seemed to drag. I always seemed to be waiting for something better, and I never realized that those days were the best I'd ever have. It took me 12 years to realize school is something I had always looked forward to, not just because I enjoyed learning, but because it was a safety, protecting the last bits of childhood wonder I had left. Now it's over. I mourn the feeling of being taken care of, knowing I would never be alone. Safety, stability, comfort. I often wonder when the feeling of being carefree ended; it seems like it slipped away silently. 

How could I understand at such a young age that each aspect of my childhood would eventually occur one last time? When was the last time I spent the entire day playing outside? Using a sprinkler? Jumping on a trampoline? Playing with toys? I can't seem to remember. There are so many memories I've forgotten, but somehow the feeling is holding on by a small string. I don't remember which experiences made me feel certain ways, but I remember seeing the world differently. The world's colors seemed more vibrant, the grass greener, the sky more blue. What happened? 

I thought memories were supposed to stick around forever? I can't seem to remember a single moment from my childhood, only blurry images of what it once was. I often wonder if anyone else feels this way, when everyone I knew seemed so quick to move out of their parents' house and off to college, or start a full-time job. Why did everyone want to grow up so badly? Sometimes I say to those close to me, "I miss being a kid," to which they reply, "Me too." I then say, "No, you don't get it, I need to go back to being a child," to which they reply, "You need to grow up." Is it just me who fears the unknown, who fears being grown? 

Maybe I need to unpack what growing up truly means. To me, it means the loss of freedom, comfort, stability, and autonomy. I know what you're thinking: aren't these aspects of life granted to us when we "grow up?" You tell me, because in my final transitional moments to adulthood, those initial goals of growing up are not clear to me anymore. Instead, I am burdened by interviews, financial stress, taxes, and uncertainty. Again, I ask, why did everyone want to grow up so badly? 

This was just a small blurb into a recent thought of mine, sorry for it being cluttered and unorganized, that's how my brain often feels. 

Signing off for now.

Sincerely, 

Bri's Brain.