JAN 8 — Permission to Play

Collector Hook

The moment I hid this figure was the moment it mattered more.

Not when I bought it.
Not when I displayed it.
But when I decided it couldn’t be seen anymore.

That’s when the shift happened.

Totem Lens — The Survivor

The figure was Robin — specifically the version tied to Batman Returns.

Bright.
Earnest.
Unapologetically colorful in a world that was already teaching me darker, “cooler” rules.

And at some point — quietly, without ceremony — he got boxed up.

Not because I stopped liking him.
Not because he broke.
Not because I outgrew toys.

But because I learned something new:

Other people were watching.

When Shame Enters the Room

Shame doesn’t usually kick the door in.
It slides under it.

It shows up as:

• A raised eyebrow
• A joke that lands a little too close
• A comment like, “You’re still into that?”

Nobody ever told me directly to put the toys away.
I just felt it was time.

So Robin went into a box.

And here’s the part that matters most:
The moment I hid him, he gained weight.

Symbolic weight.

Because now he wasn’t just a toy —
He was a secret.

Transcend Bridge — This Isn’t About Robin

This is the moment most of us don’t talk about.

The first time we edit ourselves.
The first time joy gets negotiated.
The first time play becomes something you do only if no one’s looking.

That’s not maturity.
That’s conditioning.

Robin wasn’t embarrassing.
He was visible.

Bright colors. Loyalty. Optimism. Standing next to greatness without needing to be it.

And when the world starts rewarding cynicism, irony, and emotional armor — those qualities suddenly feel risky.

So we hide them.

The Figure I Let Go — And What Stayed

I don’t own that figure anymore.

Not because it stopped mattering —
but because during one of my purges, it quietly went out into the world again.

And I’m okay with that.

Because I didn’t lose the lesson.

That Robin taught me something important — something I didn’t understand until much later:

The things you feel pressured to hide are usually the things most worth protecting.

Not displaying him didn’t erase his influence.
If anything, it burned it in deeper.

Shadow Side (Named, Not Shamed)

When play gets hidden long enough, it doesn’t disappear.

It mutates.

It turns into guilt.
Compulsion.
Over-justification.

That’s why Permission to Play isn’t about buying toys again.
It’s about reclaiming visibility — internally first.

Spark Action

Ask yourself this today:

What was the first toy you felt you had to hide — and who were you hiding it from?

Then ask the braver question:

What part of yourself learned to go quiet in that moment?

That’s the part asking for permission now.

You don’t need to rebuy the figure.
You don’t need to rebuild the shelf.

Sometimes the deepest act of play
is simply letting yourself like what you like again —
out loud.

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Thanks for joining me on this never ending journey of recapturing the moment, memories and feelings.

Now, Go Play!

Jim
01/08/2026

P.S. Don’t be afraid to subscribe, share, comment and just enjoy what you love. You have permission,