Once upon a time, things were simpler. Life was less scary. Dreams at night were scarier than reality.
As a child, many night I would lay awake at night dreading the day I grew up. I dreaded the unknown and the fear of facing it alone. I was petrified of what life would be like out from under the protection of my parents. I dreaded the day that my imagination wouldn’t be my greatest tool in my tool chest. I dreaded the day when I would be forced to interact with strangers who might not have the best intentions for me. I was afraid of not having someone to hold my hand through the unknown and guide my way. I was mainly afraid of having to make decisions on my own and having to face the consequences of those decisions
To this day, I often get sad about growing up. Every time I get nostalgia it leaves a bitter sweet taste. I miss those days of looking at the world through the eyes of a child. I miss when my biggest worry was if I missed my favorite show on TV. Of course as a kiddo with anxiety, I always had greater worries than that, but still. I miss that.
The worst part of growing up is the fact that kids don’t know how to just enjoy being kids. They worry, often just as much as adults. They worry about the unknown.
If, for only a day, I could go back here’s what I would do. I would hug my parents longer. I’d spend so much more time lost in my own imagination. I would spend less time worrying about growing up and I would enjoy being young.
My wish is this; that kids could just be kids. That’s all.