This morning, my sister sent me a few old videos from when we were kids. We used to spend entire days creating the most random, hilarious sketches while our parents were at work. Watching them made me feel a little sad—not just because I miss my family, but because I miss the pure, carefree fun I used to have.
My childhood was full of adventure. After school, my cousins and I would dive into all kinds of activities—running around outside, making goofy videos, playing video games, catching snakes, and going fishing. It’s funny to think about it now because a lot of those things, like catching snakes and going fishing, don’t exactly align with who I am today. But that just makes me laugh. It’s interesting how we evolve, yet that playful spirit from childhood lingers somewhere inside of us.
I know not everyone had an idyllic childhood, and mine wasn’t perfect either. But there’s something magical about being a kid—the limitless imagination and untapped creativity. It made me wonder: why does that fade as we get older? Where does that boundless creativity go, and why do we stop giving ourselves the freedom to just *play*?
That realization made me see just how important hobbies are when we’re kids. Back then, we naturally gravitated toward things that brought us joy and sparked our creativity. But as we grow up, responsibilities take over—sometimes in good ways—but we lose that instinct to create simply for the fun of it. We stop pursuing hobbies that make life feel richer.
I truly believe that art, in all its forms—whether it’s music, writing, drawing, or any other creative outlet—is one of the foundations of society. It connects us to who we are, gives us joy, and offers an escape from the routines of everyday life. We need to nurture that creative side, even as adults, because it’s what makes life feel fuller and more meaningful.
I remember when I was little, I’d spend hours on the computer writing scripts. I’d get so inspired by a show or a movie I loved and just sit there for hours, completely immersed in the world I was creating. Now, the idea of having enough mental energy to sit and commit to something like that for hours sounds exhausting. I still get inspired, but it’s different.
Don’t get me wrong, I still find moments of inspiration, but when you’re a kid, you’re not as critical of what you create. I was writing zombie apocalypse scripts at 13—they probably weren’t great, but I didn’t care. I didn’t know any better, and that was part of the magic.
Now, when I write stories or songs, I’m so critical of myself. The moment something doesn’t turn out how I want, I feel like giving up. It’s a bad habit, but I’m learning that we need to give ourselves grace when it comes to creative ideas and hobbies. Not everything has to be perfect. We can reclaim some of that innocence we had as kids—where creating was about the joy of expression, not the fear of failure.
