When pressed to remember the happiest years of childhood, many will recall memories from the ages of 9-12. There’s been studies to suggest this is also the point of peak happiness in life that you don’t achieve again until your mid-sixties.

It doesn’t surprise me that people often look back at those years as the golden era of humanity.

My typical summer day during those years involved waking up, having a bowl of sugary cereal, getting some pocket change from my mom and taking off on my bike for the day. Sometimes I would bike alone, but each day felt like a new adventure to somewhere in the city. Provided I came home to eat a proper meal at some point, no one thought any different of it.

Yet, despite this being my own childhood, I hesitate to do this for my own kids. In fact, in speaking to my mother, even she remarked she wouldn’t have allowed me to do this as a child today. Part of me feels torn on this as it’s difficult to reconcile my protective instinct as a parent with the carefree memories of my childhood.

However, I can’t help but think younger generations will think of different reasons why their “golden years” shone so much. Maybe their golden time wasn’t marked by taking off on a bike and ending up halfway across the city, where they would eat a popsicle at a convenience store and ride back, but by something different.

After all, the golden era for me, is different than the golden era for my parents, and it will be different for my kids.

My only hope is that it will continue to exist for all of us.