Permission to Play: Injecting Fun Into Adult Life Through Fantasy

May 2025 was the month I officially rekindled my love of playing pretend. 

May was not the spark, but merely when the fire blazed in full glory. It was when I found new ways to engage in playing pretend as an adult; in late 2024, I often spoke with a friend about recess games and make-believe. As this friend and I were raised in different states, we never got the chance to play together and are now too old to try— unless we end up in a play production or a D&D campaign together, both of which were unlikely. We did, however, bond over the irreplaceable wonder of childhood make-believe that I still marvel at.

Then, in October 2024, I auditioned for UO Shakesqueer’s production of A Midsummer Night's Dream and was chosen for the role of Oberon the Fairy King. The directors allowed me to portray him as an excitable-yet-bitter divorcee with a bad temper and an Adam Sandler-esque outfit. A Burger King crown and rainbow-socked-sandals completed the look. 

As it was my first play performance in a decade, and my favorite Shakespearean comedy, I threw myself into the character wholeheartedly. When Demetrius and Helena had their fraught argument about their forbidden love (as our production interpreted it), I was whisper-chanting “Kiss, kiss, kiss!” from behind a bush (clear green inflatable pool floaty) the entire time. When Puck revealed they got Lysander and Demetrius mixed up—causing the famous love square to become even more chaotic—I went into a rage and chased them around the stage as if to throttle them with my bare hands. After the play, I was commended on my ability to make it look like Puck and I were actually friends having a bit of fun, which made my confidence bloom— along with my determination to perform again. 

Shortly after the play’s final show, I was invited to a birthday party themed after a web series called Alien Stage, where people are made to compete in a singing competition. If they lose, they die, so only the winner is left standing. I chose to compete, and my competitor asked if I was interested in overreacting to the loser’s death. We agreed that whoever lost would be cradled in the winner’s arms. I won, and when my competitor slumped to the floor from an imaginary gunshot wound, I embraced them and cried, “No! It can’t be!” Though we had just met, the pretend death and my subsequent reaction held a surprising amount of catharsis. 

The next round was against someone I hadn't yet spoken with. She and I only discussed who would sing what part of Two Player Game from the musical Be More Chill. She was Jeremy and I was Micheal. We didn’t discuss potential theatrics, so when I lost, I was expecting nothing. To my surprise, she wailed and cradled me, crying out for her lost Micheal. I was elated. 

After both experiences, my inner child yearned for my next opportunity to play pretend, to be enveloped in the fantastical once more. The truth is, unfortunately, that most adults don’t like to do that. 

Humans are one of the few species in the animal kingdom that don’t play once we reach adulthood. Others, such as birds and cats, frequently engage in play. This is a shame, as the benefits outweigh the potential embarrassment. According to the website Planning With Kids, “It has been well documented that play also provides a number of mental health benefits for adults. These include reduced stress and anxiety, increased feelings of happiness and well-being, improved memory and cognitive function, and enhanced creativity and problem-solving skills. Play can also serve as a form of escapism, providing a welcome distraction from the demands and responsibilities of our adult daily life.” (Avery, 2023). A few games of hide-and-seek or tag, play productions, D&D campaigns, or ren faires are the only socially acceptable forms of play adults engage in, and even those are seen as silly or “cringe” to outsiders, despite their popularity. 

This specific yearning for fantastical fun can be felt in various online spaces, notably within the corner of the internet that enjoys skits. Instagram user Clair Hawkins has a few skits specifically about playing pretend, with one demonstrating how she and her friends liked to play on the slide as children. The video follows one character close to falling from the “cliff” (slide) and the other refuses to save them, instead confessing gaining power in their kingdom via murder. The caption has Clair admitting her audience begged for it— and that it was fun to make. The results speak for themselves; as of writing this, the video has 685k likes and 3,368 comments, some reading “Once she took out the mulch knife, I knew it was end game,” “why was I legit invested,” and “this was strangely satisfying.”

Skit creators are not the only people engaging in intentional fun. Other fantasy-oriented examples include the popularity of “fantasy-escapist” creator @mossy_socks, who has 317k Instagram followers who he teaches to dress in fantasy style. Some tutorials include “medieval grunge,” “medieval casual,” and “renfaire ranger.” Interspersed with these are videos on how awesome passion for one’s interests is and ways to combat brain fog. In a similar vein are creators like @meganciafre (225k Instagram followers) and @danbanstudio (26k Instagram followers) who showcase renfaire looks and/or historical cosplays (respectively), encouraging whimsy and the injection of fun back into everyday lives. These accounts are a peek into a more fun, fantastical world that, based on their popularity, countless adults yearn for. They’re a glimpse into that childhood magic of playing pretend, something we should all give ourselves permission to do.

Because of the lack of spontaneous play in adulthood, beyond a certain age, people have a hard time playing random make-believe games and prefer to have scripted and/or agreed upon ideas beforehand. It's less embarrassing and demands less imagination – and less risk. However, this is also a beautiful testament to their willingness to try retaining the playful delights of childhood. Things like scripts or predetermined roles are comforting, so people are less vulnerable in their creativity and thus more able to run wild with it once more. 

Sources:

Image Link

Alien Stage official website Link

Clair Hawkins slide skit Link

Planning With Kids Link

About the author: Mars G. Aichler is a 4th year English major minoring in Creative Writing. They harbor a deep love of stories— a love that comes in the form of reading and writing books at lightning speed. When not at school or work, Mars can be found lost in a book, drawing, reorganizing their enormous collection of nail polish, or taking long walks to appreciate how lucky they are to live in the beautiful Pacific Northwest