Lately I find myself feeling incredibly nostalgic. I yearn for the days when life was simple, when I ate and slept and played without a care in the world. Sure, there were days when I would have given anything to grow up. When I was eleven, I cried for an entire week because Max Cohen told me that freckles were ugly and that no boy would ever like me. He now works at a Verizon kiosk in a mall back in Wisconsin. But that isn’t the point. The point is, I miss being a kid. I miss going to birthday parties at Skateland, trick-or- treating on Halloween, playing capture the flag at the park. I miss being told what to do, and not having to figure it out for myself.

It’s not that I’m incapable of making my own decisions. It’s just that, I’ve never really had to before. Until now, each of my moves has essentially been made for me. After kindergarten came elementary school, then middle school, high school, and college. How am I supposed to become an adult all of the sudden? I don’t feel mature at all. I laugh when my professor writes the word, “porn” on the whiteboard. I cry when my parents leave me after visiting for a weekend. I scream when I find a mouse in my kitchen. I am a 12 year old girl trapped in the body of a 22 year old … woman? 

I remember when my brother was born, and I held him for the first time. All I wanted to do was have a conversation with him. I asked my mom how long it would be before he could talk to me. She told me it might take a couple of years. I was furious. She may as well have told me that he’d never speak at all. Two years was almost half of my existence. I couldn’t imagine waiting that long. Two years later, he began talking, and soon after, he was verbally harassing me on a regular basis. Now he’s almost 20 years old.

So the question I ask is, do we have to grow up? Do we have to sacrifice our childish tendencies in order to become adults? What does it even mean to “grow up?” Physically, I haven’t grown since I was 14 years old. Emotionally, I’ve definitely matured since then. But I still don’t feel wise enough for someone who’s been alive almost a quarter of a century.

Everyone around me seems to be great at growing up. They’re getting married, starting families, buying homes. Not me. Maybe it’s because I’m immature. Maybe it’s because I’m not trying hard enough. But ultimately, it’s because I don’t want to.