Skip to main content

What Do You Miss Most About Your Childhood?

Kids Running

When asked what they missed most about childhood, a few people said:

“I miss not having a care in the world and not feeling an underlying responsibility.”
“I miss the simple joys that children feel.”
“I miss feeling protected.”
“I miss being with my siblings and attending their concerts, sports games, and life events.”
“I miss not having adult responsibilities.”

It’s easy to understand why.

Childhood was Saturday mornings with music echoing through the house while the whole family cleaned together. It was the thrill of looking out the window, with the hopeful suspense of a snow day. It was the excitement of walking into a classroom full of friends, stoked for another day of school, instead of having feelings of dread. It was sitting on the curb with a popsicle in hand, racing daylight, laughing until your sides hurt. Life felt whole and colorful, even in its smallest details.

Beyond these small experiences, what else are we missing?

Children are endlessly curious, full of wonder and imagination. They aren’t rigid in their beliefs. They love quickly, support freely, and dream vividly. They’re proud of their passions—drawing, singing, dinosaurs, clouds, whatever it is—and they don’t downplay it to fit in. Their relationships are simple and trusting. Children don’t worry about bills or timelines or if they’re “too late” for anything. They don’t hide behind ego.

They’re inspired by those around them. I can remember looking up to my parents with a longing desire to be just like them and a determination to make the steps to get there without fear of falling short. They see the world not as something to compete with, but as something to explore. They are full of faith and humility. Have you ever heard a child pray? Their soft and simple words are signs of trust and pure intentions.

What if we brought more of that into our lives now?

We could ask more questions instead of pretending we already know the answers. We could explore new ideas without needing certainty or immediate results. Relationships might become more honest. Workplaces might become more human. We might stop seeing others as competition and start seeing them as teammates again. We can carve out space for simple joys again.

We might realize that this version of ourselves has not been abandoned. Those desires for simple joys, those vivid childhood dreams, or even a craving for a popsicle might still be holding on to us. Maybe it’s time to give them a little more attention.