I miss being a little kid. I miss being able to eat dinosaur chicken with my hands and play in the ball-room at Ikea. With all the tests and homework making me anxious, I want to rewind back 10 years when the only responsibilities I had were to set the table and keep my room in a moderate state of control.

Looking back on the past eight years since elementary school, I feel that I didn’t cherish being a kid as much as I should have. While my childhood flew by at the speed of light, all I could do was wish it would go faster. I always wanted to be a “big girl,” trading in Barbie’s for makeup and Radio Disney for KUBE. At 10 years old, I was already an expert at mascara application, and by age 12 I was reading Cosmopolitan. Even though I had no idea what most of the articles were about (“Mom, what does ‘Lubriderm’ mean?”) I still read on with determination. I spent so much time and effort trying to grow up that I missed the chance to just be a kid. With the responsibilities and expectations that come with age piling in front of me, all I want to do is subtract those eight years and do it again.

For most people, growing up can’t happen fast enough. We long for the day when we can get our ears pierced, get our drivers license, and graduate high school. As freshmen, we watch the god-like seniors with admiration, hoping that one day we will be as cool and mature as they are. We listen to the same music that they do and try to attend their parties. We want them to notice us. We want to dance with them at Purple and White. But most of all we want them to view us at their level.

The desire to be considered mature is what motivates us to grow up fast. We are pushed to be older by everyone around us: our mentors who want us to be more responsible, our teachers who want us to be more intelligent, and our parents who want us to be more dependable. We are encouraged to perform activities which will “get us ahead in life.” They expect us to take initiative of our lives. The trait most valued by adults in teenagers is responsibility. While we are told to “act our age,” we are often expected to accomplish the achievements of someone much older. We are constantly pushed to becoming someone bigger, smarter, and better. The pressure is on us to make that happen. But when are we allowed to be content with where we are?

Last Saturday, I attended a public dance. The floor was packed with people, most of which seemed to be in the lower end of the high school age spectrum. Many of the girls there seemed to be not a day older than thirteen. Ironically, they were the ones strutting around in booty-shorts and skimpy tank tops while most of the girls my age wore baggy t-shirts. Their meticulously straitened hair and raccoon eyes betrayed hours of preparation in front of the mirror. Who were they trying to impress? Well, everyone.

These girls could have been any one of us. Their effort to appear older is a habit we’re are all guilty of. Heck, I had the same raccoon eyes back in the day. But is the pursuit of independence and maturity worth losing your childhood over?

By now, I’ve observed enough adults to know that being grown-up isn’t all that its cracked up to be. Sure you have a slew of freedoms like owning your own place, but you also have the responsibilities of paying the rent, or even raising a family. That’s something that I know I’m not ready for. I just want to take my time growing up, and make up for the time I wasted trying to cheat the process. Growing up is inevitable, but theirs no need to hurry through it. I’ll become a “big girl” on my own sweet time.