Hands sticky from holding a dripping ice cream cone. That awkward yet familiar feeling of sand between your toes. The smell of chlorine becoming your summer perfume. A kid's summer.
The stress of finding a job or an internship. Filling your closet with (unflattering) business clothing. Piles of paychecks. A college student's summer.
When I was younger, summer was like Christmas every day for me from June until August. I spent my days swimming until my fingers and toes looked like a raisin. My biggest worry back then was whether or not I was tanner than my friends. My most “rebellious" action consisted of defying my mom's persistent request to put sunscreen on. Clearly I was a bad a** as a kid…
As I get older, however, my summers drift further away from relaxation and closer to reality. Summer is no longer a competition to see who can get the best tan lines or counting how many times my mom tells me to put sunscreen on before I decide to listen. Instead, summer is about being responsible and getting a taste of the real world. And according to my parents, that requires working all summer because I am a college student. I can no longer be carefree and spend my days covered in tanning oil during my endless visits to the pool. I can no longer make the sidewalk in front of my house my lemonade stand territory. Instead, I spend my current summer days working 30-40 hours a week, leaving me little to no room for a break during my so-called “summer break." Ironic, isn't it?
Summer used to be something I looked forward to; a crucial vacation time for all individuals. Now, I find myself sometimes dreading summer's sudden approach because it reminds me that I am an adult with many responsibilities and no excuse(s) to avoid them.
Being a kid doesn't entail an extensive list of responsibilities; being an adult does. This stark comparison brings about a certain ironic feeling the more I sway my past and current summers. When I was younger, I couldn't wait to be a grown up. Being a grown up meant freedom. Freedom meant no rules from parents or teachers. I clung to the notion that as a grown up, you can do whatever you want, when you want. Now that I am older, however, I wish I could be a kid again. Being a kid means carefree days. Carefree days mean hakuna matata. Ironic, isn't it?
I have to admit that I do enjoy relishing the fact that I am done with school typically a month before non-college students (such as my younger sister), allowing me to start my summer vacation that much earlier; however, that does not surmount my feelings of nostalgia when summer comes around and I become one year older every time.
According to vocabulary.com, a nostalgic feeling can involve a longing for long gone moments.
The more I grow up, the more I long for my carefree childhood summer moments; moments that I know are long gone…
