When you’re a child, you look up to the kids that are older than you—siblings, friends of your siblings, older cousins, the upper grades at school. You try to hang around them and soak up their world because it’s certainly more fun and exciting than what you’re allowed to do. It’s as though, somehow, just being around older kids will rub off and make you older, too.
I remember very clearly that when I would see my older cousins at family functions, I always tried to stay with their group. At first, it would be hugs all around and they’d spend a little time fussing over me and playing with me, asking me about my school and my friends. Inevitably, though, I’d find myself fighting to stay with the older kid pack.
The older kids were faster, knew games I didn’t know or didn’t yet have the ability to play, and talked about things that I didn’t understand. It hurt my heart so! Hour after hour, I’d feel more and more excluded, see more and more of their backs, until finally I’d give up following their crowd. I would settle into playing by myself, feeling mopey, or I’d find my parents. At least with your parents, no one expected you to “keep up” with the adult conversation. But the older kid stuff seemed like it should be within my reach, but it was still a bit of a foreign language.
As the only child in my age group, I went through this for many years. Eventually new kids were born and then I was the older one that was looked up to. I tried very hard to give the littler kids more of my attention than I felt I’d gotten. But as the family gatherings went on, I’d feel myself slowly pulling away from the younger kids. I wanted more time to do things I was interested in. Then I realized that my older cousins hadn’t been so bad after all. The circle of life’s journey was simply playing out as it was supposed to.