Where Does Adulthood Swing?
When Did We Stop Being Children?
I think we often ask the wrong question.
Not when we stopped being children.
But when we first started pretending to be adults.
Because when I look around, I do not see many adults.
I see children with more tired eyes.
Children who have learned to hide their fears.
Children who have bought more expensive toys.
Children who, instead of healing scraped knees, are now healing shattered illusions.
And the longer I live, the less I believe that adulthood is a place we eventually arrive at.
Perhaps it is just a role we are all trying to play as convincingly as possible.
When you are five years old, you think adults have the answers.
When you are ten, you think they have a plan.
When you are twenty, you begin to suspect the truth.
And the older you get, the more you realize something almost absurd.
No one ever really knew exactly what they were doing.
The world does not keep turning because of people who have all the answers.
It keeps turning because of people who wake up every morning and, despite their uncertainty, take the next step.
And yet we call that adulthood.
Perhaps that is why time frightens us so much.
Not because we are afraid of growing older.
But because all our lives we have believed that around the next corner we would finally find a version of ourselves who has everything figured out.
And that corner never comes.
Another year…
Another experience…
Another achievement…
Another relationship…
We keep waiting…
And one day we realize that all along, it was only us.
An unfinished version.
An imperfect version.
A human version.
And then something even stranger occurs to me.
What if childhood is not the beginning of life?
What if it is its destination?
What if our entire lives are not a journey from child to adult, but from the illusion of adulthood back to the child?
Look at the people who truly understand life.
They do not feel the need to compete.
They do not feel the need to prove themselves.
They do not feel the need to win every battle.
They sit on a bench and watch the clouds.
They laugh at little things.
They know how to be quiet.
Just as they did when they were six years old.
And here comes the thought that keeps following me.
Maybe we never stopped being children.
Maybe we simply started believing we had time.
A child lives in today because tomorrow is too far away to care about.
An adult sacrifices today for tomorrow.
And then another day for the next one.
And another.
And another.
As if depositing their life into a savings account called the future.
But the future has one peculiar characteristic.
It never arrives.
And when it does, it is already called today.
Perhaps that is why swings are so fascinating.
As children, we tried to swing as high as possible.
We thought the goal was to get to the top.
Adulthood teaches us the same thing.
Higher positions.
Higher incomes.
Higher goals.
Higher expectations.
Always higher.
Yet the swing knows a secret we often forget.
It never arrives anywhere.
And yet it gives us the feeling of flying.
Maybe the purpose of life was never to get as high as possible.
Maybe it was to feel the wind in our hair while it is still blowing.
And if there was a moment when we stopped being children, perhaps it was not when we grew up.
Perhaps it was the moment we first looked into a mirror and started judging ourselves instead of getting to know ourselves.
The moment we began believing that our worth depended on our performance.
That we had to earn our place in the world.
That we had to become something extraordinary in order to be enough.
Because a child is born with something most adults spend their entire lives searching for.
The belief that they have the right to exist.
That they are enough.
That their laughter does not need a reason.
That their dreams do not require permission.
And is it not strange that the older we get, the harder we try to return to what once came naturally?
Peace.
Joy.
Presence.
Wonder.
Perhaps the greatest paradox of life is that we spend years climbing a ladder, only to discover that what we were looking for remained below, beside the swing of our childhood.
And perhaps the most beautiful thing of all is this.
Unlike many other things in life, the child we once were is not lost.
It is not buried in the past.
It did not remain somewhere behind us.
It is still here.
In every moment when we stop and admire a sunset.
When we laugh so sincerely that we forget how we look.
When we do something simply because it brings us joy.
When we dare to wonder again.
Perhaps we never stopped being children.
Perhaps, for a while, we simply believed we had to become someone else.
And perhaps adulthood is not about becoming a more serious person.
Perhaps it is about becoming wise enough to allow ourselves to be who we truly are again.
Because after all the years, experiences, victories and defeats, we may discover something surprising.
That a person does not spend their life searching for their place in the world.
They spend it searching for the courage to return to themselves.
And when they find it, they realize they never lost what mattered most.
They simply forgot where to look.
And if you have read this far, thank you…
Perhaps there is still a little more of that child living within you than you realize.
The one who still knows how to pause.
The one who has not lost their curiosity.
The one who is searching for something more than just another goal on a checklist.
Dedicated to everyone who still carries a piece of the child they once were. Not the one in old photographs, but the one who still knows how to be amazed.
Because perhaps the greatest tragedy is not growing old.
Perhaps it is the moment we lose our sense of wonder.
And perhaps the greatest wisdom lies not in how much we know about life, but in how much beauty we can still see within it despite everything.
How many sunsets we still refuse to walk past unnoticed.
How many small things we can still genuinely laugh about.
And how many times we still allow ourselves to believe that life is, in fact, a far greater adventure than we ever imagined.🤍✨
Dora, your words always shine with so much light and love. This reflection brought me back to those younger days, when every moment felt open and full of wonder. I feel so grateful to have found my way back to that sense of magic and presence, even after all life’s twists and turns. Thank you for reminding us what really matters, and for always sharing from the heart. I hope more people find their way to this kind of joy and authenticity. Your writing is a gift.
Your words are a breathtaking reminder that adulthood is often just an elaborate act of forgetting, and that true wisdom is the journey back to ourselves. You’ve captured the quiet heartache of realising no one has it all figured out, while beautifully comforting us with the truth that our inner child never left, they were just waiting for us to stop performing. It takes immense courage to step off the ladder, leave the mirror of self-judgment behind, and return to the swing just to feel the wind. Loved it.