My name is Renee. I live in a toybox.

Published June 3, 2012 by HomburgerNaeNae

The title of this post is true. It is a realization that I have accepted and love.

My room, where I spend the majority of my time, can only be described as a crazy toybox of random stuff. My mom calls it a “museum” and a “tourist attraction”, but I think toybox is closer to the actual truth. It’s an organized but still crazy collection of Religious articles, Lord of the Rings stuff, books, toys, and Batman. Personally, I love it. Obviously that is why I keep it the way it is!

But other people coming into my room always have varied reactions. Most of the time it’s a wide eyed stare as the overwhelmingness of the contents smacks them dead in the face. Sometimes people kind of chuckle. Overall, not many people can believe that this is the bedroom of a young woman, not a 14 year old.

Why is that?

Why is it that because I am in my twenties, I am expected to not want my toys anymore? Was there supposed to be some age I reached where I would automatically grow out of them? Because if that’s the case, I think I missed the magic maturity memo.

I am trying to understand why adults are expected to not like toys once they are grown. Sure, we won’t have the same imaginative connection with them that we had when we were younger, but why does that mean it’s weird if we like to have them still?

I think sometimes people get too focused on forward. Everyone always wants to be acting older, looking older, being a perfect adult. What’s wrong with letting that go every now and then? What’s wrong with hugging a big stuffed animal to let out your stress after a long day?

I am thankful for those who do understand, and who aren’t afraid to admit that they are still close to their childhood. Like those of my friends who will go into the Disney store with me to look at the dolls just because they want to, not because they’re window shopping for their future children. Or those of us who aren’t ashamed to hug a fluffy stuffed animal that we love.

Those sorts of people, the people who get it, seem to think my room is cool the way that I do. They see it like I do: not a hodge-podge pile of random crap, but a walk in toybox that sparks my imagination and helps me feel like I can be myself.

As one person stated after looking around: “Wow. You have Jesus, Batman, and Elijah Wood. What more could a girl want?”


2 comments on “My name is Renee. I live in a toybox.

  • In your 20’s……Comic books? Hipster toys? Tolkien?
    Am I the only guy who finds that really hot? @_@ …..doubt it
    Be yourself and don’t ever sell out just because society thinks you should.

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