Remember When You Were a Kid?

Do you remember being eight years old? Or maybe eleven?

It’s okay if it’s a little foggy. Most of us can’t recall those moments clearly either. And lately, I’ve been thinking that maybe it’s not just trauma or pain that makes us forget. Maybe we simply stopped revisiting those moments.

Like the time I was eleven, pretending to be a spy, tailing my older brother’s friend without being seen. He crossed the street, and I darted behind a double parked car like a ninja. Then BAM! I was hit and dragged down the block. I broke my leg, spent the summer in a cast, and to top it off, my girlfriend broke up with me. But that’s also when I learned how to wheelie in a wheelchair…really well. I could do 360 spins like it was nothing…I Still can.

Or the time me, my brother, friends, and our cousins built a sofa out of snow in the parking lot we played in. This was back when snow reached five feet high, when it piled up for weeks. If you told a kid that today, they probably wouldn’t believe you. But we’d dive right off the porch into mountains of snow.

Or when we became preteens, hanging out in the back hallway of a friend’s apartment, throwing basement parties, or sneaking into school dances at schools that weren’t even ours. We had so much fun before screens took over. Back then, we were forced to talk…actually talk, on the phone. And if you thought you were in love, you’d fall asleep on that thing. Remember how nervous you’d get when a parent answered instead of your crush? Or how you’d whisper because you were sure someone was listening in?

Somewhere along the way, life picked up speed. Bills showed up. Stress unpacked its bags. Relationships required effort. Success turned into a constant race. And we got caught up in all of it…the “adulting,” the responsibilities, the expectations. We learned to carry weight, sometimes more than we were ever meant to. And in doing so, some of us lost touch, focus, and even a little bit of hope.

I’m not saying I’m immune to it. I’ve had my moments. There are days I look at my life and laugh quietly to myself, thinking, What do you call someone who has everything anyone could want, yet feels like they have nothing? And the answer I whisper back, with a small smile, is me.

But the difference now is that I practice…every day.

Writing is one of my practices. It keeps me grounded. Another is holding on to my inner child. I make time to remember the things that used to light me up…my favorite shows, games, toys, and places. And lately, I’ve been revisiting some of those places from my childhood, letting nostalgia do its healing work.

Just the other day, I went back to my old town with my twin brother. We took a walk and ended up at the same river pathway we used to explore as kids. Back then, we thought it was dangerous. We’d whisper that if it rained, we’d drown in a flash flood, yet we went back every time. We were fearless explorers.

This time, as I looked down, I laughed and said, “It’s not even that tall. We were so little. Why were we down there? Where were our parents?” We didn’t jump this time…we climbed down a wooden pallet that leaned against the wall. And somewhere between that first step and the moment my feet touched the ground, something shifted. I felt a wave of calm, like healing quietly moved through me. I didn’t question it. I just let it be.

It reminded me of something simple but powerful: we need to do more of what our younger selves loved. Revisit those places. Recreate those moments. Let your inner child lead again.

Because the world has changed, and we can’t deny that. Technology was meant to connect us, yet it often distracts and divides us. People chase validation like it’s a form of currency, scrolling endlessly for little hits of digital dopamine. And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t part of it too. I just try to use it differently…to remind myself and others that it’s a tool, not a trap.

So Brandon, what’s the point?

My point is this: don’t let life keep stealing the pieces of who you were before the world told you who to be. Don’t forget the version of yourself that played without fear, loved without hesitation, and created without limits. That version of you is still there. They’re waiting for you to call them back.

I practice this daily…reflection, creation, remembering, and I share it because I truly believe we’re all connected. We’re all walking each other home in our own way. And if each of us took a moment to remember who we were before the world changed us, maybe we could start changing the world back

So, go visit that old park. Rewatch that show. Pull up that childhood playlist. Let the memories flood in.

You might just find a piece of yourself you didn’t realize was missing.

Hope this helps,

—B