Extravagant facial expressions, lively hand gestures, and vivacious voices, babysitting children is the literal representation of what it is like to read someone’s diary and to become infatuated with every secret written in it, to the point that the only way to put it down was if someone ripped it from your grasp. Every word from their little mouths is a new idea, every sentence is a reflective thought, every question is a compelling request, and every story is an adventure we could embark upon together. More significantly, talking with the children I babysit is taking the journey back to my childhood. That being said, my experience babysitting can be accounted for in one collective question— why do adults encapsulate the process of maturation as one that undermines the romanticism of childhood and abandons childhood pleasures?
Childhood is beautiful and thankfully, I was able to have the most beautiful moments during that period of my life. Unfortunately, regressing back to my younger self during my few quick hours of babysitting has made me realize that regardless of the experiences I had in my childhood, I did not properly cherish the time spent in those experiences, as well as savor in the happiness those experiences afforded me. In other words, I was too focused on exploiting the time in the world to grow up and become an adult instead of enjoying the time the world awarded me to prove that there was no rush to no longer be a child. I wish I could go back to one more gymnastics class. I wish I could attend one more dance competition. I wish I could match my glittery cheer bow to my pom-poms as a cheerleader. I wish I had the strength, the resilience, the determination, the confidence, and the sass of my eight-year-old self.
These countless wishes are made by my twenty-year-old self only because society’s conventional norms compel me to hide my immature, childish self from the mature world yet, that does not suggest she has disappeared from who I have become today. She is eternal to me. Deep in my heart is where she lies, transforming me from the child I was into the adult I am. Her strength is my leadership. Her resilience fuels the drive for my ambitions. Her determination opens my doors of opportunity. Her confidence energizes my dauntlessness. And her sass, that’s my trademark. I may not completely return to my eight-year-old self the days I babysit but, I do believe I find a part of myself that has been hidden for a long time.
Vicariously living through these kids enabled me to reconvene with my younger self yet, if I had to justify the initial reason as to why I abandoned her, it would be because I yearn to aspire for the same happiness I had in my childhood to impact me in my adulthood. However, I do know if that journey becomes too prolonged and disheartening, I can always regress to my childhood memories and obtain a sliver of happiness from my younger self’s essence within me —she will always be there, waiting.
