Society's Playground

     Do you remember when you were little, and you used to play with other kids? Do you remember what it felt like to be with a group of near total strangers, bound only by a desire for playmates? Do you remember meeting with them, day after day, in a place without rules and restrictions, until, as if by magic, you fit into each other’s lives? 

     I’m sure I’m not the only person who misses her childhood, who misses the days before I knew just how difficult and lonely life could be. I’m one of the lucky ones. I’m a writer, so I have more protection from the pain of reality than simply pretending that my past was perfect. That doesn’t mean that I don’t reflect on those times, on the moments when friendship felt so easy and the only people who wanted to see you suffer were monsters, unless you were a monster yourself of course. I was thinking about this, and suddenly I wondered; why is it so hard to find a space to do that as an adult? 

    Adulthood means work. Work means that you do what someone else wants you to do. Work means that you sacrifice time for yourself for the betterment of humanity, or so I was told at least. Work means that you don’t think about what you want, don’t ask for what you need, don’t press for things that would make your life better. Work means you stop being yourself, and instead become something else, devoured by a world that doesn’t notice you. To transition to adulthood, you must stop asking for help, for love, for anything that would make you happy. To have someone look after you would imply that you’re still a child, and all children must face the fact that one day they’ll grow up. That, or be cast out. 

     That’s what our world is, at least, and it’s been that way for as long as I can remember. They say it’s been that way since the beginning of time. Look far enough in our history, though, and you can see something different. A time when adults had time for themselves, a time when growing up didn’t mean giving up community or your caregivers, a time when you didn’t have to be self-sufficient in a world that was supposed to bring us closer together. I won’t pretend the past was perfect, I’m the first who will say that we left it for a reason, but that doesn’t mean that we can’t learn from it. We can see what our ancestors did right while acknowledging where they screwed up. 

     I say it’s time to build a playground for adults. A place where you can go to be with near strangers, bound only by a desire for friendship and fun. A place to meet others, day after day, with only a few rules and restrictions until we, once again, learn how we can fit into each other’s lives.