Between Coffee & Curfew

And somehow, we survived without documenting every second of it.

I grew up in a time when you could do something completely embarrassing and there was a pretty good chance nobody outside the neighborhood would ever hear about it.

And thank goodness for that.

Seriously, can you imagine if everything you did as kids had been recorded and uploaded to the internet?

Some of us would still be trying to explain ourselves.

We didn’t have smartphones in our pockets, social media accounts to maintain, or hundreds of strangers watching our every move. If you wanted to know what your friends were doing, you called their house. And if their parents answered, you had to awkwardly ask if they could come to the phone.

Or, better yet, you walked over and knocked on their door.

Imagine that. Showing up somewhere without sending seventeen text messages first.

We rode bikes, wandered around the neighborhood, made up ridiculous games, and somehow managed to entertain ourselves without a screen telling us what to do next.

Our parents didn’t know our exact location every second of the day. They just knew we’d better be home when the streetlights came on.

And if you weren’t?

Well, let’s just say you didn’t need a phone notification to know you were in trouble.

We had sleepovers where the biggest drama was who got the good spot on the floor. We made prank calls before caller ID ruined everybody’s fun. We recorded songs off the radio onto a cassette tapes and got genuinely irritated when the DJ started talking before the song ended.

And if you just heard “DJ Khaled!” in your head while reading that last sentence…IYKYK 🤣

And photographs?

You had about twenty-four chances to get a decent picture, and you wouldn’t know whether any of them turned out until somebody finally got the film developed.

Half the pictures had someone’s thumb in the corner. The other half featured somebody blinking.

Nobody cared. Those pictures still ended up in an album somewhere.

Now we live in a world where childhood is documented almost from the moment it begins.

First steps, first words, first days of school, birthday parties, embarrassing moments, temper tantrums, and everything in between.

And listen, I’m not judging. I take pictures of my kids, too. I love having those memories, especially knowing how quickly they grow up.

But sometimes I wonder what it’s like to be a kid who has never known a world without and audience.

A world where an embarrassing moment at school might end up online before you even make it home.

Where friendships can be measured in likes, popularity comes with follower counts, and kids can compare their everyday lives to somebody else’s carefully edited highlights.

We worried about whether the kids at school liked us.

Today’s kids sometimes have to worry about what people they’ve never even met think of them.

That’s a lot of pressure for someone who’s still trying to figure out who they are.

And as much as I love the convenience of technology, I think something gets lost when every experience becomes something to record, post, or share.

Sometimes I catch myself reaching for my phone to capture a moment instead of simply enjoying it.

Then I wonder how many memories from my own childhood are special precisely because they belong only to the people who were there.

No video. No comments. No likes.

Just a story we still laugh about years later.

Of course, growing up back then wasn’t perfect. We had our own problems, our own drama, and plenty of things that probably weren’t nearly as wonderful as nostalgia makes them seem.

And I certainly appreciate being able to reach my kids when I need to. There are some conveniences I’m not willing to give up.

But I do wish today’s children could experience a little more of the freedom we had.

The freedom to be awkward without an audience. To make mistakes without worrying they’ll follow you forever. To have friendships, adventures, and ridiculous moments that don’t need anyone else’s approval.

Because childhood is already short enough.

It shouldn’t have to be a performance, too.

Maybe we really were lucky to grow up before everything became content.

Our parents might have embarrassing photo albums tucked away in a closet, but at least they couldn’t tag us in them.

And for that, I am eternally grateful. 🤣

Between Coffee & Curfew 🍵❤️