Serendipity

As children, we can’t wait to grow up. Adulthood feels like freedom—limitless choices and the ability to shape our own lives. Yet, as adults, all we want is to go back to the simplicity of childhood. We work tirelessly to pay the bills and maintain the responsibilities that define us as grown-ups. But when we seek joy, we often find ourselves turning to the child we once were, feeding the dreams and passions that never quite got to be.

Some are lucky enough to build their lives around those dreams, crafting careers that echo their childhood aspirations. Others find themselves in jobs that maintain their lives, while hobbies become the lifeline for the child inside. Acting is simply an extension of “playing house” as kids. Singing takes us back to belting out our favorite Backstreet Boys song. The child within may have faded to the world, but it is revived every time we yearn for what we once dreamed of becoming.

There’s a unique bravery that comes with the ignorance of youth. In that magical in-between of being a teen and young adult, we are unburdened by the laws and rules of the world. We don’t care about what’s possible or impossible—our dreams burn brightly, fueled by pure imagination. But as life goes on, a clock seems to tick inside us. With each tick, a piece of that child disappears, replaced by the weight of responsibility and reality. Eventually, many of us find ourselves navigating an emptiness, searching for the child we lost along the way.

At 32 years old, I’ve come to realize how much of my childhood dreams have been tainted by the necessities of living. In the pursuit of providing for those I love, I turned my hobbies into work. What once brought me joy and wonder became tasks on a to-do list, devoid of passion. The child inside me retreated, hurt by the loss of play, creativity, and freedom. Everything became business, and in the process, I forgot how to dream.

But I am learning. I am learning to separate my responsibilities from my passions, to give the child inside me the love and attention he deserves. I am learning to embrace curiosity and wonder again, to nurture the spark that once lit up my life. It’s not easy. Relearning how to dream feels like rebuilding a part of myself I neglected for too long.

Yet, I know it’s worth it. The child within us is not gone—it’s just waiting. Waiting for us to stop, listen, and let it guide us back to the joy of simply being.