by Erin Resnick

Their minds running on simple-mode, their feelings shameless. Unlike a lot of us so-
called “adults,” the youth are who they say they are. Almost always. Their intentions
even if short-sighted, are typically genuine. They host no backing facade, or display the
slightest of hesitation in the way they live. Their adventurous minds investigate and
explore every aspect of the world as they come to know it. They are still inspired and are
therefor, inspiring. They are enamored by all and trust easy, giving humanity and their
fellow man the benefit of the doubt.

We were like this once. Weren’t we?

We were young, confident, creative, and disciplined. In our youth everything meant
something and our priorities were in order. Dream, play, love. That was it. Now those
dreams fall short to the reality of life as we know it and it’s demands. All we do it seems
is work, stress, and judge. We didn’t used to worry about meaninglessness. What
happened to us? Why aren’t we all the Dr.’s, Lawyers, Veterinarians, Firefighters, and
Astronauts that we dreamed of being?

Seriously. I have NO idea we are all such a bunch of pussies.

Maybe we did know who we were until we started to grow up and the world told us
otherwise. Or so we thought it did.

For most children the first display of the world screwing them came with the demise of
Santa Clause. For me it came while learning how to ride a bike with no training wheels.
I refused to take them off unless my father held on to the back of my bike seat. I
promised him I’d pedal “slowly,” if he promised to just not let go. He agreed and off I
was, gaining speed as I gained confidence.

“Are you there?!” I asked as I stopped hearing the sounds of his feet shuffling alongside
of me. “I’m here!” He replied from about a hundred feet behind me. It wasn’t until then,
when I realized he wasn’t holding on that I fell right over. Even though I was
unknowingly riding on my own just fine the very thought of no one holding onto me and
making sure I wouldn’t fall was terrifying, dibilitaing. It knocked the wind out of me and
truth-slapped me in the face and although it was for the best that my Dad let go that shit
hurt.

It is on our journey to adulthood when we start getting let down, beaten down, and held
down by the world and it’s beautiful yet often destructive energy. Unlike my Father, the
world won’t be there with an applause or approval and if one does come it will never be
when you want it to. We think foolishly that the universe cares in the slightest just how
many times we’ve fallen. In adulthood people let us go all the time as we do them. This
is painful but more often than not for the best. If we’d only choose to accept it. Which
most of us don’t.

We must not let the world’s empty promises start to add up, taking us away from the

dreams we once had. We can no longer be these bitter souls walking around constantly
questioning what is real and honest in everything without ever giving truth and love a
chance to show its face.

As we grow up and are torn away from the way we thought it was, we must remain
youthful in order to evolve. We must be careful not to live certain that we know the way
it should be.