As a child, my greatest fear was the monster that supposedly hid under my bed. I had a devoted family with unconditional, abundant access to love. My parents adored my brothers and me and were able to give us every bit of support, care and security we needed. I could fly so high on the swing set and not worry about having to come back down, because I always knew that someone was there to push me all the way back up.
It was almost like my eyes were constantly closed, but it didn’t matter. This sheltered, innocent and sweet world was normal for me. As I grew up, I stepped headfirst into the real world. It drove me crazy, how fast the night changed. Everything sweet that I ever dreamed of, disappeared when I woke up. I went from being protected to being the protector, overnight.
My innocence was ripped away from me by the bitterness of reality. I was suddenly confronted with traumatic situations that I had never even thought about as a child.
I realised that I’ve grown up unaware of concerns that are hidden deep within the world. Concerns that shape this new normal’. I began to realize this new normal’ as a euphuism for the loss of innocence in adolescence. Recently, my life was vastly impacted by loss. My close friend passed away, after his strong fight against pancreatic cancer. He was young, brave and courageous. He saw the sweetness in the bitterness of reality, the worth in people who felt worthless and most people who knew him would say; ‘he lit up the world’.
The pain that echoed over his family, his friends and I was insurmountable. This had a momentous impact in my life, as I had never dealt with something so tragic. So permanent. The imbalance of my life felt like the push and pull of a swing, that once I cherished so contentedly. Now, one moment your flying high, then gravity pulls you back into the orbit of reality.
The bitterness of reality, this new normal’. It forces you to push with all your strength to soar high back away from all the painful truth. But gravity’s pull always manages to secure you back into the unsettling and cruel nature of authenticity. To some degree, this push and pull’ feeling emphasised by my friend’s death, shattered my innocence. I question myself every day, would I of preferred to be taught as a child about degrading innocence as you grow up? Would I want to know that the sweetness of childhood is ripped away by the bitterness of reality? Some days it infuriates me how unaware and naive children are. They don’t understand world concerns that shape this new normal’ of a world they will one day enter into. Children have no idea that the ice in the Arctic is melting at its fastest rate in over a thousand years. Carbon dioxide emissions have increased forty-two per cent in the last twenty years and racial discrimination is one of Australia’s leading causes to depression and suicide. There is a continuous worry of not informing the right information at the right time, or not preparing children for the real world, but this real-world is the new normal.
Whilst children are twenty per cent of our generation, they are one-hundred per cent of our future. So shouldn’t they know about these concerns? On other days I realize that this obliviousness and ignorance is what makes childhood so idyllic and special. Sometimes I miss having a child-like wonder. The night before a big excursion and I couldn’t sleep because I was so excited. I miss being so into a book that I would stay up past my bedtime reading it. Everything seemed so sweet. So normal. I’m only sixteen and right now I’m exhausted. I miss flying so high on the swings and not having to open my eyes to see the concerns of the world. When I fall I want to be able to have that reassurance that someone is always there to catch me. I miss having constant support. The support that maybe we forget to cherish. Despite learning the harsh reality’s in this world, it made me see how grateful I am to be here. Maybe with every adversity, I go through it makes me acknowledge the positives more. Maybe learning about world concerns is a part of life’s adventure.
Maybe with this knowledge, children would want to open their eyes. Continuously worried no one is there to catch them when life knocks them around and they fall. Maybe with this knowledge, children wouldn’t have the ability to love and cherish the push and pull’ feeling of a swing. Maybe the joy of the freedom of swinging is that you adore going up high but you also adore coming back down low, to the support of your parent’s hands grasping back onto you.
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