There’s something incredibly unsettling about realizing that the people who brought magic to our childhood are slipping away. Dame Maggie Smith, the eternal professor McGonagall, has left us, and honestly , I don’t know how to feel. It feels like a sucker punch from reality. Is this what getting older feels like? Just losing pieces of what made life magical?

I’m literally spiralling. This is not okay. I’m almost 25, five years away from 30, and suddenly it’s hitting me like a flying brick to the face: we’re getting old.

Remember when 30 felt like lightyears away? It was that mysterious age where you were supposed to have your life together, maybe 2 dogs, a house with a cute little garden, and like, a stable job that doesn’t make you want to cry in the shower. But here I am, edging closer to the big 3-0, still trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up. And now Dame Maggie Smith, THE Professor McGonagall, is gone? The woman who taught us that you can be old and still make grown men cower in fear is… just not here anymore?

Why is it like life looked at us and said, “Oh, you thought you had time? Well, jokes on you loser! Here’s a reality check. No refunds!”

And it’s not just Maggie Smith, Matthew Perry, Alan Rickman, and Michael Gambon, it’s everything. My parents? Yeah, they’re aging too. What kind of sick joke is that? I used to think they’d be around forever, like Master Oogway, all wise and indestructible. Now my dad’s asking me how to “use instagram”, and my mom thinks “streaming” means putting water through a hose. These are the people who used to fix things in my life, and now I’m over here googling “how to install a printer” while trying not to cry because apparently, printers hate all of us equally.

Someday, when I have kids and I’m old, I know they’re gonna roast me for not understanding Gen Alpha tech or whatever cursed slang they’ll be using in the future. Like, “Oh, you don’t know how to use a hologram toothbrush, Mom? Cringe.” And honestly, I’ll lose it. You can’t insult me for not knowing how to operate your flying robot vacuum or whatever “skibidi” nightmare you’re dancing to. I TAUGHT YOU HOW TO WALK, ffs. I used to wipe your butt, and now you’re mocking me because I don’t know how to teleport? Please. Have some respect for the woman who kept you alive despite 3 a.m. feedings and tantrums over the wrong dinosaur-shaped nuggets.

We Gen Zers grew up thinking we’d stay young forever. Millennials said, “Oh, adulthood’s rough!” and we said, “Nah, not us.” Then 25 hits and suddenly your back hurts from sitting. Sitting dude! Your metabolism taps out, and you start saying things like “I have to take my melatonin or I won’t be able to sleep.” Welcome to the prelude of old age where you used to pregame at 9 PM, and now you’re pre-gaming with multivitamins because that’s apparently where the real party’s at now.

But Dame Maggie Smith dying? That’s a different kind of wake-up call. It’s like the universe grabbing us by the shoulders, shaking us, and whispering, “Everyone you love will one day be gone.” Cool. Cool. Cool. Cool. Cool. Cool. Cool. Cool. Cool. Cool. No pressure. Just sit with that for a minute while you sip your overpriced Starbucks and pretend you’ve got it all figured out. Oh, and don’t forget to water that houseplant that’s slowly dying in the corner… kind of like your childhood (Too harsh, Ankita, too harsh).

I miss when our biggest problem was figuring out how to beat the final level of some video game, not existential dread about time slipping through our fingers like sand. Now? The people who made our childhood magical are leaving us. Professor McGonagall, the one person we could always count on to roast Draco Malfoy into oblivion, is gone.

So here we are, Gen Z, stuck between wanting to live forever and realizing we’ve just leveled up to the part of life where everyone starts saying “enjoy your youth” with that specific look in their eyes. You know the one look. The “ lol, you’ll see” look Boomers give us.

Here’s to getting older, whether we like it or not, and to realizing that maybe being a grown-up just means we have to figure things out as we go. Like adulting is just a myth perpetuated by people who pretend to know what they’re doing. And you know what? that’s fine. Because if Professor McGonagall could deal with Harry, Ron, and Hermione’s nonsense, then we can handle a little aging crisis.

But damn, losing her stings. It’s like another thread in the tapestry of our childhood has unraveled. And honestly? It makes me want to call my parents, tell them to stop aging immediately, and figure out how to freeze time… or at least find a spell for it (if you know, you know) 😉

Aging sucks. Growing up sucks. But at least we can pretend we have a little magic left.