As children, we often feel put upon because the adults are the ones who make ‘our’ decisions. This is not helped by the (many) times these restrictions come without an explanation. Children feel victimised, unfairly treated. Other children bullied them, and in worse cases, so do parents and teachers. We hear, or imagine, how great it is to be an adult. Being ‘adult’ represents freedom. Being told, “Well, when you’re an adult, you’ll be able to make your own decisions,” strengthens this.
Adults are liars. People are born into a world where they are never free. They are born into a world with expectations. That’s not entirely a bad thing — I believe in a certain standard of social and ethical responsibility, but it’s why money can be the root of all evil. Money represents a kind of freedom most of us will never obtain, never appreciate. It’s not so much about what we can buy, or what we can own. Not even about not having to do as we’re told. It’s about not having to do as we’re told, unjustly.
Children and adults bully children. Adults and children bully adults. Children look at adults and see them as having all the power when most adults will never have the power at all. Adults remain children. It’s just that some are better at hiding it. Some ooze confidence, but in their darkness hours, they are still children. Sometimes we all need a cuddle. We all wish someone else could be the adult for a day. All just keep plodding along, doing the best we can. We learn our parents were ‘winging it’, faking it, ‘putting on a brave face’… and maybe that’s the accurate definition. Maybe in that regard I excel at being ‘adult’. I’m still tired some days. And it is on those days where creativity is many a person’s survival mechanism.
‘Adults’ everywhere, I hug you.
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