To Be a Child Again

I have always been someone who dislikes change. I like to cling to what is comfortable, dreading the change that has to come.

However, the reality is that growth and change are a part of life. The seasons change. People change. As time goes by, we get older, age, and change.

I find this really sad. I am the nostalgic type, and I long for my childhood, looking back on past moments and memories, wishing I could just go back in time, when things were simpler. Because getting older is scary. I am now 22 years old, a college graduate, having to think about money, jobs, and what’s next, surrounded by people my age getting married or having kids. And it can all be so overwhelming. Stress. Pressure. Busyness. That seems to be the life of an adult.

My cousins and I playing dress up when we were younger.

What happened to the days of carefree running around outside, playing with my cousins, laughing, dancing, and singing?

What happened to that little girl?

I remember when I was a kid, I had a big imagination. I would create stories in my head and play pretend. I remember dreaming big. That I could do anything that I put my mind to. I could be a teacher. An artist. An author.

Now, looking back, the artist part is laughable. But the author part. Why should I stop believing in this?

My love for writing started in elementary school, when my third-grade teacher had us start writing “squiggle stories.”

I remember how enraptured I became in writing stories. It’s like a light had come alive inside me.

But then, I got to middle school. And I realized that the kids around me did not like writing. So, I stopped writing, telling myself this was just a little phase.

I did not start writing again until years later, during my junior year of high school. I remember the day I bought my journal and wrote a poem in there; it felt like a light lit up in me that had been dim for so long. This sparked my writing journey, as I started writing poems and passages in that journal. I then started writing encouraging letters to girls and women all over the world, in an organization called "The Letter Project". That love for writing grew, and I eventually went to college for an English degree.

Before going to school, I had decided I wanted to focus on non-fiction writing and technical writing. My senior year, I was trying to decide if I should take a fiction class because I hadn't written stories in a long time, and my friend told me, “Just imagine how excited little Megan would be to be in that class.” So, I took the class. It was a little challenging at first, and it pushed me in my writing, but I did rediscover that love for storytelling that had been hidden for a long time.

Not only would little Megan be excited to know that I took that class, but I think that little Megan would be so excited to know that I am still following my dreams in writing. I have not published a book (yet!), but I have started my blog, gotten a poem published in an online journal, and even went to college to study English. I think she would be so proud of me. So, right now, I should be proud of myself for taking these small steps, scary as they are, to pursue my dream.

It is scary and intimidating to take steps to follow your dreams. There is always the chance of failure. Usually, it takes a lot of hard work and time. But I think it's worth it.

Imagine if I had never started writing again, after I stopped in middle school, just telling myself it was a childhood phase? Imagine if I had let my dream die? Then I wouldn't be writing to you right now.

How many of your dreams have died as you have gotten older? What are those passions and desires you have set aside or have hidden way deep down, that have been discarded as childhood fantasies?

Today, if you are reading this, I want to tell you:

Dream again.

Believe again.

How easy it is to believe when we are children, right? Believing in Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy.

Even in the Bible, God mentions the childlike faith of children (Matthew 18:2-4).

I want to find that childlike faith inside of me again. I feel like as I have gotten older, I have become more cynical and negative, hardened by life and disappointments I have faced.

But I want to be more like I was as a child, hopeful and expectant, believing for good. Believing that God CAN do the impossible. Believing that I CAN accomplish my dreams.

Just because we get older does not mean we have to leave our childhood behind. We can keep our childlike wonder. Joy for the small things. Take time for things that make our souls happy. Try not to take life so seriously. Laugh a little more. Sing. Dance. Dream and believe!

My advice for you is to take time in your busy life to slow down, breathe, and start to see the world around you through a childlike lens.

You may never know what will happen if you start to dream again! 😊

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To Be a Child Again

Can the seasons just stop changing?

Please, slow it down.

How am I supposed to know what’s next?

When I haven’t been able to catch my breath?

High school, college

A full-time job

Then marriage, children

Where’s all the time gone?

What happened to the little girl

who would run around and sing?

Dancing and twirling,

laughing at everything?

What happened to the little boy

and all of his childhood dreams?

Hitting his first home run

on that Little League team?

Our to-do lists are long,

We are always on the go.

But if you could talk to your younger self

I think they’d want you to know…

Don’t let your spark die

in the busyness of adult life.

Make time for those things

that make your soul feel alive.

Laugh!

Write!

Paint!

Sing!

Color!

Dance!

Travel!

Dream!

Pause for a moment

and take a breath.

See the world around you

through a childlike lens.

Sing your favorite song

while you’re cleaning the house.

Dance in the rain

while the raindrops are pouring down.

See the magic in the

ordinary, day-to-day things.

Start to believe again

in those hidden, forgotten dreams.

Learn what it means

to be a child again.

Growing up does not mean

your childhood has to end.