When I was younger, I had an entirely different set of interests than I do today, but the gravity of this didn't register until I realized I wouldn't feel the same kind of joy that dolls used to bring me when I was 12. While this dramatic change in interests happened gradually, the real impact of it changed my perspective of myself and my personality. I thought personality to be defined by another person’s creation or that personality can be entirely altered by change in interests.

It makes me nostalgic and gives a bitter taste, knowing that a chapter of my life has passed that I can’t return to and makes me think I didn’t appreciate freedom as much as I should’ve at the time. Books I once loved are only lower level reading to me now, without the joy of inside jokes between old friends. They just don't hold my interest like they did before. Old shows and movies that sparked such interest are nothing more than children’s movies to me now and it seems selfish, but I want to stay interested. I'm jealous when I see children playing on jungle gyms and they carelessly build sandcastles at the beach when all I care to do is nap in the shade. I’ve heard it so many times, yet never thought I'd be the one wishing to be a kid again.

The way adults look at a 10-year-old's enthusiasm for a play date when they have bills to pay and careers to build is unsettling. The fact that I can't look at a swing anymore and wish I was on it is unsettling. The period of time between joy for the swing and resentment at not having the time or energy, and feeling like I have to “act my age,” came and went. Not being able to return to these good feelings and maybe not liking the new enjoyments that come with age as much, stems from the discomfort I feel for change (it seems I’m not alone here). This change is somehow more important than others to accept because it’s so permanent and invasive. It makes me question my personality, likes and dislikes and whether they’re a product of societal constraints or my own choosing.

With age comes responsibility, which seems alien to what was my identity before my likes and dislikes changed, for better or worse. In many ways, I think I'm a late bloomer in this realization. While my peers have come to accept their new role as adults years ago, I'm just now trying to process what it all entails. It's difficult to describe the feeling, but I also believe it's one we all relate to, or have related to, in some form or another. We all have to come to terms with maturation at some point, to know that there’s no real personal obligation to fulfill the role you think you should based on interests you had years ago. In a way, that's comforting.