Why I’m Proud to be a Disney Adult

I know what you're thinking. Sparkly Mickey ear headbands. Expensive food. Crowds and screaming kids. What is so magical about that? I get it. I really do. On paper it can be hard to understand. I grew up in Massachusetts where if someone looks at you for too long you're at risk of a middle finger and aggressive name calling. So, trying to explain to someone how a man and a dream and a Mouse could be so profound is a challenge to say the least.

Disney was the first vacation I can actually remember. It was a group surprise trip for me and my two neighborhood friends from our parents. I remember being so excited. That excitement lasted throughout middle school as I got to return every couple of years with my parents.

Those childhood trips planted something in me that didn't fade with age—it grew. Because here's what I've learned: Disney doesn't just hit different as an adult. It hits better. When you're a kid, the magic is handed to you. As an adult, you have to choose it. And in a world of bills, work stress, and doomscrolling, actively choosing magic feels radical. You appreciate the details, the intentionality, the escape. Here's why I keep choosing it:

1. Adults need more magic in their lives. What do adults have that children don't? Responsibilities! Jobs, bills, world events, politics—it's a lot. Once you step foot in the Disney bubble, all of that stress goes out the window. You can't be stressed while you're dropping faster than the speed of gravity on Tower of Terror or singing along with Anna, Elsa, and Olaf on Frozen Ever After.

2. Nerd alert. Have you ever thought, "I really want to visit a 1977-era dive bar for smugglers and bounty hunters"? Well, Galaxy's Edge delivers. You can grab a drink at Oga's Cantina, pilot the Millennium Falcon on a coaxium heist, dodge stormtroopers patrolling the streets, and—if you're lucky—spot Grogu. It's immersive in a way that makes you forget you're in Florida. For a few hours, you're not just yourself. You're a scrappy rebel, and that feeling? Priceless.

3. A foodie's dream. My mom and I have perfected the art of "splitsies" at Epcot festivals—because why commit to one dish when you can sample a dozen? There's something magical about experiencing cuisines from around the world within a mile-long loop. One minute you're trying poutine in Canada, the next you're having Moroccan lamb. And bonus points to the cast members who make even the backed-up lines enjoyable—during the last festival, a cashier complimented my glasses and struck up a conversation while we waited. It's those little moments of connection that make the experience.

4. Magic moments worth chasing. Seeing my fiancé's reaction the first time he rode Cosmic Rewind? Priceless. I'd pay for that Lightning Lane just to relive the moment. But it's not just one experience—it's the anticipation of wondering what song you'll get every single ride. It's my mom's laugh-scream on Slinky Dog (her former "peak" before she got braver). It's spotting giraffes on the safari—my favorite animal, right there in real life. It's discovering that Disney at the holidays is somehow even more magical than usual, with Christmas lights transforming Living with the Land into something unexpectedly enchanting. These moments don't exist anywhere else. And honestly? That's worth every penny.

5. Kindness everywhere. I have never witnessed more random acts of kindness than being in the Disney bubble. The last time I went with my mom, we decided to stand in the Gideon's line at Disney Springs. It was hot, everyone was sweating, all for the sake of cookies! One of the workers (mind you, standing outside with us dressed in an all-black uniform, equally if not more so sweating) struck up a conversation with us. Come to find out she was from the same state as us! It really is a small world after all.

I may not be the Disney adult who has a shirt for every season and festival. I do not own a pair of Mickey ears (curse you, large head genes). But I do have my page-a-day Disney calendar on my desk at work for a magical way to start every morning.

So yes, I get it. On paper, Disney can be hard to understand—the crowds, the expense, the sparkly headbands. But here's what I think Disney actually teaches us: it's okay to have fun. To reward your inner child. That in a world full of responsibilities and stress, choosing joy is its own kind of rebellion. That patience is a life skill worth practicing. And that the world needs more kindness, more magic, more reasons to laugh-scream on a roller coaster with your mom.