I've always been intrigued by floor patterns. I skip tiles and walk on cracks. When I was a kid, it looked normal, cute even. But as a 5'9-ish 20-year old, jumping around tiles on the sidewalk isn't a good look. And when I was doing that yesterday night on the way to dinner with my parents, I realized that there is no time for that kind of tomfoolery anymore. I will be graduating from university tomorrow and I will have no excuse to act any less than mature and proper. And to that I say: no thanks.
Let's get to it:
I'm the youngest in the family, and my sisters are 5 and 8 years older than I am, so I'm constantly treated as the baby. I've never been taught to be as responsible as my oldest sister. I never grew up too fast the way most firstborns are. So it left me with childish quirks that never died even to this day. It's already a permanent part of me. The floor is always lava. The stars are worth stopping for. Candy shops need to be visited. Stuffed teddy bears are required to help me sleep better.
I retain these childish acts because I don't feel the need to dispose of them. I mean, why should I? What do I replace them with? Why would I remove my idiosyncrasies in order to please adults who are too uptight for any sort of immaturity?
I feel like children are always happier than teenagers and adults. Children are the ones who are brave enough to ride public transport wearing a Batman mask with a cape and a plastic sword. They are not yet familiar with the feeling of embarrassment because they haven't been conditioned to be aware of other people's judgement. They do what they want because they are more self-aware of themselves than most adults are. If a little boy wants to wear pink shoes, a princess dress, and a spiderman mask, then he will. Our opinions don't matter because we are unknown identities to them. We're extras and background characters who are irrelevant. It's only when we're taught by our parents or teachers to hide certain aspects of our mannerisms that we begin to construct our characters to fit the mold. The older you are, the more you take the opinion of others more seriously, and the less you respect your own.
At a young age we're taught to act like an adult, speak like an adult, think like an adult. "You're too old for that now," our parents tell us. Too old for slides. Too old for dolls. Too old for hoola-hooping in the park. Too old to be happy.
I believe that our minds will eventually mature with the knowledge we absorb through time. We will begin to think more logically and rationally. But what does being logical and mature ever do for our happiness? Sure, we are able to create businesses and land clients and contracts, but they are merely the bricks and mortar to a structure. We need to decorate a home to make it livable. I'm not saying that we should remain naive (because I'm all for knowledge), it's just that we need to embrace the inner child that we left behind years ago to access a certain type of happiness that is irreplaceable.
We are so obsessed with acting older that we forget that visceral happiness lies with the young. I don't want to stop skipping on the streets when I'm excited. I don't want to stop riding on supermarket trolleys. I don't want to stop doing the little things that make me happy just because strangers deem it unbefitting. The issue is their mightier-than-thou judgmental attitude that categorizes everyone into age-labeled boxes. God forbid we move a few boxes down sometimes.
If I'm not hurting anyone, why tell me to grow up? Why tell me to look up at the groggy, irritated adults and not at the carefree young boy with the cowboy hat singing songs on the train? We should learn from the wise, but not be afraid to access our childish eccentricities. Just because we're getting older doesn't mean we're to forget who we were before. Be as happy as a child but as clever as a retired grandparent. It's when you let go of your maturity that you realize how the little things in life can be so much more exciting. And that's what kids live for; the little things.
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