Reflection: Legos

Childhood felt like something I was waiting to experience, as if it were something that I needed to earn. I remember being told so many times by adults that I was so mature for my age, but how mature can (and should) an eight year old really be? At what point do we question why - why is this child so mature? More importantly, why do we, as a society, applaud such maturity? Perhaps mature children are venerated because it's one less child to have to take care of since they're so great at "taking care of themselves." At some point though, taking care of yourself, especially from such a young age, becomes draining and all of a sudden you find yourself in the Lego store waddling past little kids as you try to find the Pacman Lego set; more on that later.

In an immigrant household with emotionally immature parents you are more likely to become your own parent. When I was a kid, I was a sponge for my parent's feelings instead of developing and understanding my own. I was absorbed by my parent's problems, so much so that I failed to develop a healthy and fully formed sense of self. Their feelings became my feelings, and ironically, not having any of my own was rewarded with less arguments and shouting matches. 

There were so many things I wanted as a child: attention, unconditional love, quality time, an occasional $1 bin necklace from Target. These were fundamental things that I didn't realized I was starved of until I got older. I thought I could sweep my shortened childhood under the rug, but I began to feel its presence permeate through various aspects of my life. So much of my young adulthood has been giving myself the childhood I never had. Talk about stunted, am I right? 

​So there I was, at the blinding yellow painted Lego store darting my eyes trying to find the perfect Lego set. I wanted something that was challenging, none of that 3-in-1 Creator nonsense, something with pieces in the thousands. The Pacman set caught my attention, with its moving handle, light up coin slot, and colorful design; it screamed, "Build me!" This sudden interest in Legos was signaling something deeper than what I had initially anticipated, which was to reconnect with my inner child. This isn't to say that one must give in to all of their childish desires, or spend copious amounts of money on Legos to connect with their inner child, but what I am saying is that inside all of us, especially those of us who grew up too fast (and developed all or nothing thinking as a result), is a little voice wanting us to have fun, no strings attached. 

For a long time, I believed that I needed to get to a certain point in life or become a certain kind of person to enjoy my life. Whether it was watching my father's unwavering work ethic destroy him and deprive him of enjoyment, or feeling like it was my responsibility to "get it right", I always chose to delay gratification in the hopes that someday it would be my turn. The truth is though, that joy is not something that needs to be earned, it is something already dwelling inside of us and this idea of it being "our turn" might never actually come to fruition. 

Something I deeply regret is choosing to sit in the library alone doing homework during high school instead of spending time with people. I still remember this one time someone asked me to sit with them and I said I couldn't cause I was busy doing homework - I should have sat with them. I didn't know any better; I was in survival mode, absorbed by wanting to be successful so that I could have something to show for all of the trauma I experienced as a child, as if I had something to prove. 

Don't delay your joy thinking that you'll have time to be happy later on. You can find joy right here, right now no matter what you've gone through or where you come from. You owe it to yourself to stand up for your inner child, and to be the voice they never had. Go build that Lego set, whatever that might look like for you. 

P.S. - I want this corner of my room to be completely taken over by Legos.