in defence of childishness
Or alternatively, the other repercussions of being ‘mature for your age’. When I was nine years old, I was told by my aunt that I had to start acting like an adult, because my cognitively disabled parents could not do it for themselves. At that age, I could not fully understand the gravity of the situation, but I did know that it was a big responsibility. I was told to stop watching cartoons and start studying harder than all of my peers. I was told to stop whining and start learning how to regulate my parents’ emotions. And as a little girl, I began to envy my peers, who would have fun play dates all of the time, and get to try every new video game. In retrospect, I did have a decent childhood. But many of my closest friends were not afforded this luxury. Some of them had to parent their younger siblings from the age of eleven, as their parents were emotionally absent. Some of them had families riddled with alcoholism or severe mental illnesses, having to balance their home responsibi...
