Disney Isn’t Just a Phase

At some point in adulthood, we’re expected to leave childish things behind, like our teddy collection, our post-school cartoons, and apparently, our love for Disney. But what happens when the magic never really fades? When you grow up, pay tax and national insurance, manage a mortgage, and yet still feel a little flutter when you hear the opening notes of “When You Wish Upon a Star”? For me, and for many others, Disney isn’t something I outgrew. Instead it grew with me.

My Disney journey started with worn out VHS tapes and spinning around the living room pretending to be Ariel. Back then, the magic felt simple. Singing animals, happy endings, and a princess who always found her way. But as I got older, the stories took on new meaning. I started noticing the art behind the animation, the music and the lyrics and the messages.

I went to Disney for the first time at 16. At that age, you’re supposed to be far too cool for characters and parades. But the moment I walked onto Main Street and saw Cinderella’s Castle at the end, something shifted. I wasn’t too old. That trip unlocked a whole new understanding of what Disney could be. It wasn’t just a place for kids, it was for anyone willing to believe, even just a little, in magic. And ultimately that was Walt’s vision. A place where adults could be kids again, just for a little bit

Going back as an adult only deepened that feeling. I could slow down, take in the detail, and appreciate the layers of storytelling and engineering that went into every experience. I wasn’t just chasing nostalgia, I was making new memories, grounded in a deeper appreciation for all that goes in to the magic. The parks have become a kind of mental reset for me, a space where wonder still had a place, even in a world that doesn’t always leave room for it.

People assume loving Disney as an adult is a form of denial or escapism, but I don’t think that’s fair. It’s not about running away from the real world, it’s about finding joy, even when the world feels heavy. For me, Disney represents optimism without ignorance and creativity without limits. Whether it’s rewatching Lilo & Stitch for the 100th time, planning another trip to the parks (whether we can afford to go or not), or tearing up at the fireworks show (every time without fail), it connects me to something deeper. It reminds me who I was before the world told me to tone it down.

Disney adults get a lot of stick. We’re labelled obsessive, childish, even cringe. But the truth is, we’re part of a larger, evolving fandom that includes artists, analysts, designers, and dreamers amongst many more. The fandom has matured, and it now includes dives into Imagineering, storytelling, and even advocacy for inclusivity on screen and in the parks. There is a space for that nostalgia and we can love Disney while also asking it to grow with us.

Now that I have kids of my own, the magic has only deepened. I get to see Disney through their eyes. And that sparkle in me, the one I feared might dim with time, comes roaring back. Whether we’re watching a movie together, or walking through the castle for the first time, I feel a sense of wonder that has come full circle.

Disney isn’t just a phase. It’s a thread that has been embroidered into my life at every age. And if that makes me a little different from my peers, so be it. I’ll be the one in the Mickey ears, holding my Mickey Waffle wearing a pair of Mickey Ears, reminding myself (and my kids) that magic is real if you know where to look.

Xx