Remember when we were little kids? We all wanted to be rock stars and reach the ultimate stardom that was Britney Spears. Our biggest concerns in life were having the coolest lunch boxes or whatever other nonsensical items we used to define ourselves (i.e. Tamagotchi, Neopet stuffed animals or that little boom box key chain that played music.)

We would wake up every day, excited to see our friends and our overly enthusiastic elementary school teacher. There was never a dull day throughout the years of K-5, where anything was possible and our “life goals" were laughable. Now, we have to force ourselves out of our beds, attempt to not be recognized by anyone on campus and cringe at the thought of our professors lecturing us for 90 minutes.

The irony of it all was how much we wanted to grow up and be like the “big kids" who could drive and be grown ups. There was nothing I wanted more than to be like the big girls in the (questionably inappropriate) movies that I worshiped. I wanted to be Torrance Shipman or Cher Horowitz, and I couldn't wait until I had my own car or a boyfriend because my preschool romance didn't count—despite my two failed marriages before age five.

What I didn't know then, which I wish I could tell my eight-year-old self, is that growing up is effing terrifying and that staying young is the true objective.

We're at the point where not all of us know what we're doing with our lives. We may have a hint of an idea, but we have so many unanswered questions about our future and that scares the living sh*t out of us.

These are the years we need to use to find ourselves, to figure out where our passions lie and how we're going to get there, and quite frankly that doesn't sound appealing to me at all. The mystery of it all is thrilling, but I'm at the point where I would prefer the middle school summers where my biggest responsibility was taking my dog for a daily walk. Now I have to fight to find an internship where I do a bunch of menial work for little to no pay or continue to take classes despite my exhaustion.

Don't get me wrong, college is great, but it's graduation day that I'm dreading. I've spent the last three years “preparing" for the real world, but why is it that no matter what I do, the “real world" is the most daunting concept. For those of you who find the future so captivating, I envy you. For those of you who cringe at the thought of filing taxes and shopping for your own refrigerators, you're not alone.

Sorry to break it to you, but time doesn't turn back so unfortunately we have to get older, find a good chiropractor and work nine-to-five. The only thing we really can do is to not forget the eight-year-old that still resides within us.