My dad was really big on routine, and one thing he taught me has stayed with me forever: work now, play later. Before I could go outside, I had to finish my homework. Otherwise, I wasn’t going anywhere. That mindset quickly became part of how I operated as a child, and I’ve carried it with me well into my mid-30s.
I think that’s also why I find so much comfort in nostalgia. Those routines came from a time in my life when I felt safe, so I’ve held onto many of them. As a ’90s kid, I remember being ridiculously excited for summer vacation. I mean, ready to kick the classroom door off its hinges excited. Summer meant I could finally rest, regain my strength and creativity, and simply exist. For a little while, I could be a human kid without deadlines, homework, or the constant pressure to accomplish something.
Then, toward the end of summer, there was a different kind of anticipation. It felt like a reset. New clothes, fresh school supplies, and the feeling that another version of life was about to begin. This was the ’90s and early 2000s, and I still cannot fully explain how exciting those summers felt to me. Some of my favorite childhood memories came from that cycle of working hard, stepping away, resting, and eventually returning renewed.
I think I’ve carried that same rhythm into my adult life and into my work as a content creator. For the past two summers, I’ve allowed myself to take real breaks, and both have been incredibly refreshing. They gave me the space to feel again, let my creativity return naturally, and sometimes simply rest.
Mostly rest, honestly.
In my writing, I’ve talked about being called “Ping-Pong Brain” as a child because my ideas seemed to bounce everywhere at once. Back then, I didn’t always know what to do with them. I often felt like my mind was moving faster than I could explain. Now, I embrace that part of myself. I embrace the ideas, the imagination, the strange connections, and the creativity I spent so many years trying to hide.
I always knew I had an interesting personality. Unfortunately, when children notice that someone is different, they do not always respond kindly. I spent a lot of my childhood trying to make myself smaller and less noticeable, but it never really worked. No matter how much I tried to hide myself, some part of me always showed through.
As I grew older, I began learning how to love that person instead. I slowly built the confidence I desperately needed as a child. Even during the difficult moments, I was fortunate to have great parents who gave me a safe environment to return to. I also always had music. Music gave me somewhere to place the feelings I didn’t yet know how to explain.
Maybe that’s why summer still feels sacred to me. It gives me permission to stop performing productivity for a while. It allows me to reconnect with the child who had too many ideas, too many feelings, and perhaps a little too much sparkle for some people’s comfort.
Without saying too much, something connected to that idea will be coming a little later.
You heard it here first. Haha!
I’m planning to share more updates soon. As always, thank you for being here, whether you genuinely support me or are simply checking periodically to see whether I’ve finally experienced my downfall. LOL.
Either way, welcome back.
Talk to you soon.
Carmen