I think I am like many students almost done with their undergrad: I really don’t want to grow up and be a full-fledged adult. I don’t want to move from “home” to “somewhere else.” I don’t like going through all of my things, trying to make room for new objects and ideas in my life. I hate paying taxes. And bills. And vehicle repairs. I know I’m being whiny and annoying and everyone who is a pro at “adult-ing” will say, “Everyone has to grow up, and this is just a part of life. Suck it up,” and I agree with them. I’m just sulking. 

I’ve also been extremely lucky and grateful that I’ve had such a supportive family who have helped me financially and emotionally through college — however, it’s just made stepping out on my own all the scarier. 

I feel like I have two parts of my personality and identity fighting each other. On one side, there’s the fun-loving kid wanting to act silly and stay up all night watching movies, then wake up late the next morning to watch cartoons. On the other side, there’s the cynical, sarcastic adult, worried about her future, watching old episodes of “Orange is the New Black.” 

I still love the same shows and movies I watched as a kid; super sugary cereal, playing with chalk and bubbles, going to playgrounds and sliding down shiny slides as well. But many of my passions and interests over the past few years would not have interested me when I was younger such as global warming, reading non-fiction travel books and eating vegetables. 

Even though I’m slowly transitioning into becoming a full-time adult with real responsibilities, I’m desperately clinging to childhood. This really isn’t a new idea — wanting to stay young forever — but I’m still hung up on a couple things: Why can’t we participate in children’s activities and children’s forms of expression for the rest of our lives? Why do we have to be so serious all the time?

I’ve come to the stubborn conclusion that we can, and we don’t. 

Certainly some of the world is in partial agreement. ComicCon is made for kids and adults alike. So are animal onesies, jelly shoes and Winnie-the-Pooh backpacks. The problem comes with social judgement. I would not, for instance, be able to go out shopping wearing my red panda onesie without receiving strange looks. Similarly, if I worked at a fancy office, and I came in sporting a bright yellow Pooh backpack, I guarantee I would get more than a few raised eyebrows. These “childish” things are okay for 6-year-olds, but our society deems them unacceptable for a 22-year-old.

Judgment accompanies the expression of these “childish” obsessions. But why? Is it unprofessional? Eye-catching? Juvenile? Why can’t I work as a CEO wearing a bright pink unicorn dress? Or work at a literary magazine sporting bright blue hair and “Captain America” Converse Chuck Taylors?  It seems to be that the outward expression of these interests or obsessions equates to not taking things seriously, and the more serious the job, the more serious you have to dress. 

There’s certainly a difference between acting childish and expressing “childhood” interests through clothing and accessories. If dress codes at work require formal wear, fine. Just let me wear a dragon dress if I want to. I would still be serious about my job, I just wouldn’t be wearing “serious” clothing (because come on, dragons are awesome).

I just question the ways in which we have to grow up. It’s one thing to sacrifice hard-earned money to pay for not-so-enjoyable things, but it’s another to give up on expressing all the fun and uniqueness that came so natural during our youth. It’s just really heart-breaking to have to throw some of that away as an adult. I just want the fun to stick around for a while.