Julia Cameron’s book “The Artist’s Way” outlines a set of practices to help refresh the inner artist dormant within all of us. At one point, Cameron discusses the phenomena that some people don’t consider themselves to be creative because they have internalized criticism from those around them that has resulted in the construction of a creative block. The way to break through this mental wall, she writes, is to be kind to our private selves, which can also be thought of as our inner child. According to Cameron, “Artistic child abuse creates rebellion creates block.” She recommends tapping into this version of our neglected selves through a series of fill in the blanks that include “My favorite childhood toy was…” and “If it weren’t too late, I’d…” which are meant to reinvigorate this lost person. But feeding your inner child is not only important for artistic practice; it is critical for cultivating ourselves as people in everyday life as well.

Part of Cameron’s goal is to ignite memories. In reflecting on my own childhood, and because it is still February, I couldn’t help but be transported back to Valentine’s Day at elementary school. The joy of that holiday when you are blissfully ignorant of its stressful undertones is unmatched. I always painstakingly hand decorated a shoe box to serve as my mailbox and was always giddy to come back from handing out my own valentines to find the box stuffed full. We had a rule where if you were going to give out valentines, you had to give one to every student in the class, and the loophole I used to get around it was to give everyone else a normal valentine and make extra special ones for my friends. I would sort through until I found the one from my crush, even if it was just from a store bought set where the only writing on it was a name in the “From” category and an empty space after the “To” line. I would take stock of my candies and eat the Fun Dip first, something I came to associate with the day as well even though it’s not the most sensual or romantic candy. Now things are more complicated. Upon reaching the teenaged years, big feelings start to get involved. Valentine’s Day is currently marked by a string of Instagram stories where everyone who has a significant other posts about it. It makes me nostalgic for those innocent Valentine’s Days before all the rules changed.

The teenager as a concept is, perhaps surprisingly, relatively new in world history. While kids have been going through puberty since the beginning of time, it wasn’t until the 1940s that this specific period of life was identified as its own chapter of growth and development. Whereas before, turning thirteen and having your bar mitzvah made you a man and getting your period meant you were finally a woman, the change is now more gradual. Multiple factors led to the fostering of a culture that supported the teenager, all of which contributed to an expanding sense of freedom for young people. The first factor had to do with the rise of mandatory public education. Namely, by 1936, the percentage of teenagers enrolled in high school had approximately doubled since 1920. High schools allowed adolescents a space away from the home in which to learn and socialize. The postwar economic boom was another factor that subsequently made families financially able to spend more on their offspring and give them more pocket money so that they could go out and do things on their own. This created a new type of consumer that businesses were eager to capture. A third factor was the invention of the automobile, a mode of transportation that permitted teenagers to experience a new degree of rebelliousness and independence.

The unrestrained youth and zest for life so characteristic of teenagers as portrayed in the media coupled with more recent depictions of teenagers as the most depressed and anxious members of our population has made adults from older generations weary of them. Grown-ups, although they were once teenagers themselves, cannot seem to understand teenagers and have turned them into some undecipherable mystery that is plaguing society. Instead of this trend negatively connoting the term “teenager,” it has done nearly the opposite and led to a “teenocratic” culture centered around this age group. Boomers have inadvertently glamorized being a teenager, and, in doing so, have made it appeal to those younger than thirteen. This has led to the popularization of the term, “preteen,” the teenager’s wannabe little sibling. This group is not quite in their actual teen years but strive to imitate the behavior and dress of teenagers. Brandy Melville, once popular among younger teens, now caters largely to the preteen division because of its association with being of the category of what a teenager would wear. I did not have a cell phone until I was in sixth grade, and didn’t get a smartphone until I was almost in high school. This meant I also didn’t have social media until around this age either. Now more than ever, preteens seem more present on their iPhones and platforms like Instagram, TikTok, and Snapchat.

One consequence of the stages of “teen” and “preteen” now taking over one’s growth period is the shortening of the phase known as childhood. In returning to the clothing example, Justice, once the hottest place for girls to shop when I was in elementary school, is now nearly nonexistent, with many of its locations long gone. The audience it once had in preteen girls has simply evolved and doesn’t really exist in the same way anymore. Girls don’t want to look their age; they want to appear sophisticated and more mature. While I think the experience of being allowed to be a child is an important one, I am not necessarily against the desire for younger kids to want to act older. After all, the privileges that come with different age milestones—getting your driver’s license and being able to vote—can be enticing. However, as long as you are continuing to feed that inner child even as you become a teenager, an adult, and every age beyond and in between, I condone whatever makes you happy. I am therefore not saying “don’t grow up too fast,” but rather emphasizing that you can look ahead without losing sight of who you are now.

This might prompt the question of what exactly “feeding your inner child” looks like. It can be literal: having a meal of dinosaur chicken nuggets, for instance. For some, it means decorating your home like a colorful playground, the way you would’ve done it when you were a kid. For me, it might mean eating Fun Dip at my desk in my room on Valentine’s Day and again making extra special valentines for my friends. I have found that feeding my inner child helps me destress, become more focused, and even makes me ready to tackle more “adult tasks.”

When I stayed at the Inn at Middletown during my COVID-19 quarantine over Thanksgiving break, feeding my inner child was essential to maintaining some semblance of sanity. I had an emotional support stuffed animal, did some coloring, and went to bed at a very reasonable hour. One thing should be made clear: “feeding your inner child” should not be confused with the dreaded term “self care,” which has become a horrific pro-consumerism entity that asserts that taking a bath and journaling about it will make you love yourself. Feeding your inner child is about tapping into those childish, simple desires that are all about enjoying the little things you used to love and might’ve forgotten about. Because, to bring it all home with a little throwback to Julia Cameron, “as a creative being, you will be more productive when coaxed than when bullied.”

Emma Kendall can be reached at erkendall@wesleyan.edu.