What would 6-year-old you choose?
One of the saddest things about growing up isn't paying bills or having responsibilities. It's forgetting how to play
Not because we stop enjoying fun, but because as adults we start believing it needs to be earned. We tell ourselves we're too busy to paint, too old to build lego, too uncreative to colour in, or too practical to buy the sparkly notebook. Slowly, without even noticing, we begin choosing what makes the most sense instead of what brings us the most joy
What if there was another way to make everyday decisions? What if, now and then, you asked yourself one simple question: What would six-year-old me choose?
Not because six-year-olds always make the best decisions, they'd probably have ice cream for dinner, but because they haven't yet learned to filter every choice through productivity, guilt, or other people's expectations. Children choose what excites them. They follow their curiosity, immerse themselves in activities they love, and rarely question whether those things are "worth" their time. Maybe that's something we need more of as adults
When you think back to the things you loved as a child, you'll probably notice they weren't random. Maybe you spent hours drawing, building worlds for our barbie dolls, making friendship bracelets, climbing trees, baking with your grandparents, riding your bike until the streetlights came on, or reading books that completely captured your imagination. Those activities weren't just ways to fill the afternoon; they were glimpses into what naturally brought you joy
As adults, we often assume we've grown out of those interests. In reality, we've usually just stopped making space for them. Life becomes busier, responsibilities increase, and we convince ourselves that hobbies need to be productive or useful to deserve our time. We forget that joy is useful in its own way
Many of us also adopted the belief that fun comes after everything else. We'll relax after the house is clean, after we've answered the emails, after we've finished work, after we've exercised, after we've caught up on the washing. The problem is that there is always something else waiting to be done. If joy is permanently reserved as a reward at the end of the to-do list, it rarely arrives
The truth is, we don't need to earn moments of happiness. Play isn't just for children; it helps adults feel more creative, connected, and present. Doing something simply because it makes you smile isn't time wasted, it's part of living a balanced life
That's why I love the question, "What would six-year-old me choose?" It's a simple prompt that gently shifts your perspective. Maybe your younger self would choose the colourful notebook over the plain one, spend an afternoon painting instead of scrolling on their phone, stop to watch ducks at the park, order dessert, buy the flowers simply because they're beautiful, or dance around the kitchen while making dinner. Not every decision can be made this way, of course. Adult life comes with budgets, responsibilities, and commitments. But many of our everyday choices leave far more room for joy than we realise
Reconnecting with your inner child doesn't have to involve anything extraordinary. Often, it's simply about returning to the hobbies and activities you quietly left behind. You might rediscover painting, colouring in, crocheting, baking, gardening, pottery, puzzles, roller skating, lego, reading fantasy novels, or making something with your hands just for the satisfaction of creating it. None of these hobbies needs to become a side business, and you certainly don't need to be good at them. They don't need a purpose beyond bringing you happiness
I think we've become so focused on making every moment productive that we've forgotten how valuable unproductive joy can be. We ask ourselves whether something is worth the money, worth the effort, or worth the time, when perhaps the better question is whether it makes us feel more like ourselves. Sometimes the most worthwhile thing you can do is something that has no measurable outcome at all
People often talk about healing their inner child, but sometimes your inner child doesn't need fixing. Sometimes they simply need to be remembered. They're still the part of you that gets excited by fairy lights, laughs at silly jokes, wants to stop and admire rainbows, and secretly hopes you'll choose the colourful option every once in a while. That part of you never disappeared; it just got quieter beneath the responsibilities of adulthood
The beautiful thing about being an adult is that you now have something your six-year-old self didn't: the freedom to choose. You get to buy the art supplies, sign up for the pottery class, visit the themeparks, spend an afternoon reading, wear the colourful outfit, or eat pancakes for dinner if that's what sounds fun. You can create the kind of life your younger self would have thought was magical
Growing up was never supposed to mean leaving joy behind. It was meant to give you more freedom to choose how you spend your time. So the next time you're caught between what feels practical and what feels playful, ask yourself one simple question:
What would six-year-old me choose?
Then choose that, not because you're trying to become a child again, but because the happiest adults are often the ones who never completely forgot how to play
