Growing up definitely has its advantages, but we give up a lot along the way, namely innocence. I miss that version of me. The version that still worshipped her parents and felt safest when they were around. We used to go camping, as a family, and sleep in a tent. I don’t remember ever worrying about someone coming into the tent while we were sleeping. Now, I worry about someone breaking into my camper van. I’m more aware of the dangers of this world. I miss feeling safe. To be able to enjoy nature without worrying that someone was going to come along to spoil it.
I’m nostalgic for the time when I didn’t know how human and flawed my parents were. Before I knew their secrets or discovered that the family life I was used to was actually very dysfunctional and caused a lot of harm. My family used to be my everything. Now, there are only five related individuals. There is no family to speak of.
I’d like to go back to a time when I didn’t need to shoulder so much financial responsibility. When I didn’t need to worry about paying bills or how much stuff costs. When I wasn’t concerned about putting food in the fridge or keeping a roof over my head.
I miss fun, feeling content, and being completely in the moment. I regret allowing myself to lose the ability to sprint, jump, climb, etc. I remember a time when I had energy. Whose bright idea was it that play was just for kids? Probably those who couldn’t find a way to profit from it.
The silver lining is that I can be her again. She’s not lost, just dormant. Waiting for me to set her free. That’s what this journey I’m on is all about. Being able to release her is why I want to live a life less confined.
