Something I Used to Love

Have you ever felt embarrassed by the things that you used to like?

I was in fifth grade when I discovered the book series that would take over my life at the time. I am already cringing just writing this, but it felt like an experience worth sharing.

The series was Keeper of the Lost Cities, and I didn’t find it myself. My sister and her best friend were obsessed with it and would talk about it all the time. They would discuss characters, plot twists, and things that made no sense to me at the time. I wasn’t a huge reader back then. I read Harry Potter and Percy Jackson, but other than that, I mostly stuck to graphic novels or easy books like Dork Diaries. So when they handed me a book that was over 600 pages long, I couldn’t believe it. No way was I ever reading that huge book.

Eventually I gave in and read the first page, and suddenly I was on chapter five and couldn’t put it down. I started reading everywhere, before school, after school, and even during dinner, which my parents were not that happy about. The world felt so real, and I cared way too much about fictional people. I even convinced my best friend at the time to read it too, which made everything worse (or maybe better?). We talked about the series all the time, like my older sister and her friend did. We would talk about favorite characters, least favorite characters, plot ideas, and obviously ships. Looking back, it’s kind of funny, but at the time it felt very important.

When new books came out later and we were older, I was still excited but my best friend wasn’t. She said the books were lame and boring now, and suddenly it felt like I was the only one left holding onto something everyone else had outgrown. Even people in my grade would make fun of me and tell me that it was way too young for me (I was in sixth grade at the time). That should’ve been my warning sign to quietly move on. As I got older, I did realize the plot started going in circles, and some of the newer books felt stretched out and unnecessary. But part of me just didn’t want to let go. The series wasn’t over yet, and I needed to know what happened. 

When I preordered the newest book at the time, it came with a pretty poster with two of my favorite characters. I liked it, so not thinking too much about it, I hung up the small paper in my room along with all my artwork. It got bad when friends came over and saw the poster. When my friends made fun of it, I laughed along like I didn’t care, but the second they left, I took it down. I didn’t want anyone to see that part of me anymore.

Yes, I was embarrassed, but I was also a kid who loved a book series enough to let it reflect in my life and shared it to the people I loved. Writing this made me realize how much of that version of me I have lost over time, and I sometimes miss that version of me. As I got older, I became more and more aware of the things I liked and how they looked to other people. I started paying attention to what was “acceptable”/trendy to enjoy and what wasn’t. If something wasn’t popular, I usually avoided it. Liking things started being more about fitting in. In trying so hard not to stand out, I think I also lost some of the passions that made me feel unique in the first place. It feels like we all change parts of ourselves until we start to look and sound the same. I have come to realize that maybe growing up doesn't mean we have to abandon those (maybe more “childish”) parts of ourselves completely. 

After reading today’s essay in class I realized that I may have too much narrative and not enough reflection. I also had to cut some paragraphs, so the ending may be too short and could sound incomplete. What do you guys think? Please let me know if you have any feedback!