Growing old and growing up are two entirely different things. One is mandatory, the other is, mostly, a choice — and it can be a confusing one. As we age, Gen Z-ers are increasingly sharing on TikTok about the many constraints that come with becoming an adult. Adding in the pandemic, the jump from child to working adult came quickly, without any real adjustment. But for many young people, navigating their evolution means acknowledging the past. As a result, the hashtag “inner child healing” has over 20 million views on TikTok, filled with young people reclaiming childhood passions and taking back the hobbies they were forced to leave behind.
According to Time Magazine, psychologist Carl Jung coined the term “inner child healing” about 100 years ago to describe a part of our psyche connected to our younger self, which alters our perception as an adult. That might mean we have a sense of playfulness and wonder, or, if we experienced hardship or trauma, that might show up in how we react to situations long after the trauma occurred. While we cannot actively go back in time and shield our younger selves from difficult things, we can spend time healing the younger person that still exists in our adult version. And, many feel that we owe it to ourselves to give back what was taken, love what wasn't allowed, and find whatever we lost on the way to adulthood.
Below are three Gen Z-ers who’ve taken the time to reclaim the hobbies they loved growing up, all in the name of healing their inner child.
Noella Williams, 24, Brooklyn, NY
Noella Williams grew up in the Florida Panhandle with the ocean as her backyard. Living in a beach town meant learning how to swim at an early age.
“My mom always reminds me of the time we visited Jamaica and how my two-year-old self was always knocked over by the waves,” she tells Teen Vogue. “Regardless of when my love for the water started, I’ve never been scared to go for a swim, but I’ve always been cautious of deep waters and rough tides, especially growing up in Pensacola.”
Williams took beginner-level swimming courses as a child, but stopped when her parents could no longer afford it. Because of that, and her caution of the open ocean, she couldn't practice swiming in the way she would have liked. Now, at 24, she’s taking a six-week swimming lessons with Black People Will Swim in Queens, NY.
“As much as I love the water, I was so nervous for my first swimming lesson now as an adult,” she says. “The hour-long ride on the J train from BedStuy to Jamaica, Queens left me wondering if I was too scared and embarrassed to take these lessons. So many thoughts were running through my mind. Would it really be worth the travel? And also, what if I’m ‘bad’ at this? Is it embarrassing that I really don’t know how to swim?”
Williams’ biggest fear stepping back into her love of swimming was, mostly, what others might think. “Sometimes adults can shame you for not knowing a specific skill at a certain age, but we all grow up differently,” she says. But, she's pushing through: Her classes happen every Monday and focus on the technical swimming skills like the backstroke, floating, and doggy paddle. Moreover, she picked this specific swimming organization because of the stigma attached to Black people and swimming. Getting the chance to learn how to swim from a Black instructor was especially cathartic.
“Specifically with swimming, I’ve always wanted to challenge the stereotypes surrounding Black folks and water,” she says. “A lot of people don’t validate the fear that African Americans have with water when there’s clearly many historical instances of water-related violence. When you learn about water hoses being used to actively harm Civil Rights activists, little-to-no resources to access public swimming pools, let alone formerly-segregated pools and generational racial trauma, you’re going to want to stay away from water.”
Now, Williams is overcoming that fear and she values her time in the water. Moreover, it’s pushed her relatives to do the same: They’re taking swimming lessons back in Florida.
Mac Rose, 23, New York, NY
As a kid, Mac Rose, 23, would storm into her mother’s closet, steal a few dresses, and then run back to her room. She’d make sure to lock the door and would then begin the formative process of turning her clothes into characters.
“I would create entire universes based on one dress and I’d live in that world for hours,” she tells Teen Vogue. “Growing up, my personal access to clothes was very limited. My closet was almost entirely dependent on what the neighbors donated, and occasionally the thrift shop. I’ve also always been a larger kid, so by the time I was in middle school I exclusively wore black hoodies and leggings to hide myself. I didn't think you could use clothes as armor outside of make believe until I was much older.”
Some see fashion as frivolous and indulgent, but for Rose, it was something empowering, but out of reach. Now that she can buy her own clothes, her style has become catharsis.
“It sounds silly but I feel almost every emotion there is when I think about styling and my personal style,” Rose says. “I feel angry that I didn't have the resources to find something that brings me so much joy sooner. I feel bliss because I’m able to do it now. I feel nervous that I'm actually sh*t at it. But I think overall I feel connected. I just feel connected to everyone because we all have to get dressed. To feel so much joy towards something so necessary sets me up for a constant state of gratitude.”
Rose first got the resources to actually explore fashion and styling when she got to college. It wasn’t always the smartest option being that she was in school, but she started wearing five outfits a day, going home in between classes to change — which her classmates took note of, calling her, aptly, the “girl who wore five different outfits a day.” And she loved it. Looking back, her limited access to different styles of clothing growing up actually played a key role in how she navigates her style now. She learned how to do more with less early on.
“I actually say all the time when I'm talking to people about finding their personal style to think back to what they wanted to wear when they were a kid,” she says. “Before any thoughts of what was flattering or trendy were in your head. Back then it was as simple as, ‘yes, I want to wear these overalls,’ or, ‘no, I do not like them.’ I think that's where you'll find a lot of the things that make you happy, when you look back to before the world got to you. Choosing to go back there as an adult… can be a really powerful thing, and I think it's something everyone can benefit from.”
Olúwatọ̀nà Campbell, 24, Brooklyn, NY
Olúwatọ̀nà Campbell started beekeeping at a really pivotal time for the 24-year-old Brooklyn resident. They were coming out of lockdown, finishing their undergraduate degree, and moving past toxic relationships with romantic partners and family members. This hobby also came after they decided to step away from climate organizing.
“It was a tidal wave of different life changes and realignments,” Campbell says. “I’ve always held this curiosity about bees, wasps, and hornets from a young age, from an arms’ length. The adults around me didn’t have a lot of insight into beekeeping, so when I ended up learning more about their role in our food system and ecosystem through environmental and climate justice activism—I redeveloped an appreciation of them.”
And while they’re exploring beekeeping now, Campbell had a tumultuous beginning with the insects. When Campbell was four years old, they were playing in a jungle gym and bumped into a huge wasp’s nest. Campbell ended up getting stung dozens of times, leaving them to hobble back home uncontrollably sobbing. Now, after facing that long-term fear, Campbell is learning more about themselves through their time spent outdoors alongside these complicated creatures.
“Beekeeping gave me the opportunity to connect with nature, the community of urban beekeepers and growers, and also to be more grounded somatically,” Campbell says. “Not to get too much into therapy—but, beekeeping really forces me to be tuned into my body and also the reactions of the bees in the hive.”
For the last five months Campbell has been a part of a first-time beekeeper’s education program that meets twice a month. In each session they’ll focus on practical experience working with beehives, or doing a tutorial session on building the frames of the hive, treating infestations, and doing regular inspections.
“It’s so important that we find opportunities to explore, learn, and play as adults,” Campbell says. “We have so few opportunities to learn outside of a classroom or the confines of a job. Especially for those of us who are Black and brown, and/or working class.”
For Campbell, making time to connect with nature and all it offers has been pivotal in reclaiming themselves and the world that they exist in. “Keep on bothering your parents to let you explore nature and your hobby. Playing in the rain, the dirt, and out in the woods, is an important part of building your relationship with nature and the ecosystems we are a part of.”
“I think it’s so important to foster this early,” Campbell continues. “Especially, as our climate and environment is rapidly changing and in some ways becoming unstable for us — we need to appreciate what is here, and what can continue to exist, when and if we respond to climate change with the urgency it requires.”
