I think I figured out why I’ve been latching onto childhood memories and expressing my distaste for adulthood lately.
I’m less than two months away from turning 25.
The desire to splash in puddles with my snow boots, the cartoons I’ve been watching lately; the signs are all there. I’m subconsciously acting immature because I’m not ready to turn a quarter of century.
I’d rather live in a blanket fort and not use a niece or nephew as an excuse for why I built one.
This same thing happened when I was approaching 13. I convinced my friend that once we became teenagers, we could no longer step foot in a McDonald’s play place. Yes, we looked ridiculous crawling through those tubes and declaring war in the ball pit but it was something I had to get out of my system.
Now approaching 25, I can’t stay out all night and joyfully get up for work the next day.
I’m OK with being inside before 10 p.m., I don’t think I need a last hurrah to prove a point. What I’m not OK with is that I feel I’ve lost my sense of spontaneity.
I can’t just do what I want anymore. I’m responsible now and make informed decisions. My eyes just got big at the thought of the last sentence too.
I guess I’d like to ask Jay-Z how does he make forever young look so cool. However, I believe chasing my dream will always keep me youthful.
Christina Calloway writes for Clovis Media Inc.