We Grew Up and Didn’t Even Notice

Last night, I looked into the mirror before bed, and I remember seeing huge brown eyes smashed between two rounded cheeks, tiny fingers and arms which could barely hold ten books at a time. I wasn't even half the length of the mirror and fell asleep like I had nothing to do in the morning. But this morning when I woke up and looked into the mirror—I swear it was a time machine.

Dark circles framed my eyes, my arms and legs were long and weird-looking. My favorite T-shirt no longer fits me and somehow… I grew up.

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The Quiet Theft of Time

When we were younger, time felt enormous, like each day stretching into an eternity. Waiting for birthdays felt like waiting for a new decade. And as we grew older, something shifted—like the world clock was broken and the hour hand started spinning faster, stealing our time.

Psychology says that it is due to novelty. Because when we were younger, almost everything was a pristine experience: new schools, new friendships, new games, and so on. But as we grew older, everything became repetitive; we almost had the same routine every day.

Routine quietly replaced novelty. We started losing the surge of excitement for dawns. Unfortunately, the world clock seemed to be working well, but our brains refused to store all our repetitive routines.

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Losing the Address of Our Childhood

When was the last time we worried about the end of the sun in 5 billion years and not about our assignment dues? When was the last time we were young enough to spend all our summer afternoons napping and watching cartoons, or playing in the streets till the end of time?

Growing up does not announce its arrival with trumpets; it rather slips and hides between the smallest things, leaving us with barely any time to discover what we want to do or who we want to become with the rest of our lives. The realization of growing up feels like a strong punch in the gut, leaving us with a bunch of memories and glimpses of ourselves dreaming about fairy tales, our collection of pebbles, or when we pretended to act like adults at eight.

There was a time when our ultimate happiness was collecting stickers for later—but the later never came. We dreamed about the day when we'd grow tall enough to touch the drifting clouds, and when we deeply believed that the moon was obsessed with us and followed us everywhere. Somewhere along the way, all our tiny treasures stopped fitting into our pockets.

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The Age in Between

We are currently standing on this weirdly named bridge: adolescence, awkwardly connecting our childhood and adulthood. It's a period where our bodies and brains are still developing. This might explain why being a teenager feels so confusing.

One moment, we are laughing over something silly, and the next we are worrying about upcoming exams, entrances, and careers. It is not a paradox or contradiction; it is simply our brains trying to fit in.

It's not a clean transition but a chaotic ground where we fall and learn about ourselves, where we discover our likes and dislikes. Childhood is more of an anchor holding us steady, reminding us how optimistic we could be, and that tiny part of us where magic sparks—still making us believe that tomorrow might hold something magical.

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Looking back

For a long time, I thought growing up meant leaving our childhood behind. But what if I was wrong? Maybe growing up means collecting various versions of ourselves within us.

Maybe childhood doesn't disappear; it simply moves within us, making us cling to that one colour, song, comic, or the side of the bed we still sleep on.

And one day, standing in front of the mirror, we realize something: We grew up and didn't even notice.