They are too tight, too uncomfortable, and my thighs are too big, but it was for Halloween, and I chose to be a hipster. My friends and I planned it two or three weeks in advance: We would dress up as random counterculture groups and beg for candy at the Central West End as a nostalgic act of silliness.

Our plans, however, unwound into a mildly disgruntling but still quite exciting journey, us having found an adult block party in the middle of Euclid, complete with a dancing deck of cards and many women (and men) dressed up as tawdry-looking Disney characters. Because of all the drunken debauchery, I would assume, no one within a three-block radius would open their doors to a bunch of poor, pathetic college students. Still, it was all too funny to see.

Decked in a scarf and pants about five sizes too small for me, I realized that no one truly ever grows up.

Life has a tendency to put restrictions on us as we grow older: Play nicely with others, go to college, pay your own cell phone bill, get a good job, stop picking your nose. The list goes on, and we wrap ourselves in these costumes of “adults,” responsible, caring, good citizens who contribute to the greater good, and try our hardest to keep order, peace and reverence and not hit our cousin Jimmy when he tries to steal our Tonka trucks.

Adulthood is an expectation that has afflicted generations and generations before us as we maintain propriety rather than express how we truly feel. Oftentimes, it isn’t adult-like to act silly and let loose. We become so caught up in what we have to do that we forget who we used to be; we’ll put on the suit or the corporate mask or the soccer-mom wig, and when we finally do look at ourselves in the mirror, we don’t even know what is staring back at us.

The block party, though, is proof that given an opportunity, the child in us will get out. All it takes is one occasion, one little chance to revert back to adolescence, or even childhood, and adults will jump at the opportunity, whether responsibly or irresponsibly.

If adulthood is so uncomfortable, why do we bother trying to perform as adults? I don’t mean to say that we should just let everything fall into anarchy, and I know we do have to behave responsibly, but why is there so much tension in the world? Why do we kill ourselves putting on this image of some stereotype that is generations old? We’re all trying to do well in school or in our jobs so we can make a better life for ourselves, yes, but if we don’t take a second to look around—past the textbooks and the minivans and the taxes—we will miss what life is about.

It is more than just this performance starring the over-18 crowd. From time to time, we need to look back and see where we came from. We need to laugh, enjoy ourselves and be who we are, free from worries about what anyone else will think.

I can tell you from experience that some pants are just too tight to wear and should not be seen on your body or mine. Step out from your imposed adulthood and seriousness, and I think you’ll find that it’s much easier to breathe.