Are You Really Too Old For Fairytales? The Truth About Why We Still Need Them

Are You Really Too Old For Fairytales? The Truth About Why We Still Need Them

You’re sitting in a crowded theater, or maybe on your couch, watching a story about a girl with glass slippers or a knight facing a dragon. Suddenly, a thought hits you. You feel a bit silly. You’re an adult with a mortgage, a LinkedIn profile, and a lingering worry about the check engine light in your car. Are you too old for fairytales?

People say these stories are for kids. They’re "childish." But honestly, that’s a massive misunderstanding of what these stories actually do for the human brain. We’ve been told to put away "childish things" since we hit puberty, but we’re finding out that the "happily ever after" isn't just about magic—it's about survival.

The Myth of Growing Out of Wonder

The idea that there is a specific expiration date for enjoying folklore is a relatively modern invention. Historically, fairytales weren't even for children. Look at the original Grimm’s stories or the oral traditions of the 17th century. They were dark. They were gritty. They dealt with starvation, abandonment, and the terrifying reality of the woods. Adults told them to other adults as a way to process the sheer randomness of life.

Somewhere in the mid-19th century, we started sanitizing them. We added the glitter. We removed the part where the stepsisters cut off their toes to fit into the shoe. Because we made them "safe," we branded them as nursery fodder. Now, if you’re thirty-five and reading The Blue Fairy Book, people look at you funny.

But here’s the thing: your brain doesn't actually stop needing symbolism just because you learned how to file taxes.

C.S. Lewis famously said that a children’s story which is enjoyed only by children is a bad children’s story. He was right. He wrote The Chronicles of Narnia well into his adulthood, and he read them until he died. He argued that growing up isn't about leaving things behind, but about adding new layers. You don't stop eating bread just because you started eating steak. You just have a more complex diet.

Why We Get This Wrong

We confuse "maturity" with "solemnity." We think being an adult means only consuming "serious" media—documentaries, gritty crime dramas, or the evening news. But the news is often just a different kind of horror story, one without the catharsis of a resolution.

When you ask if you're too old for fairytales, what you're really asking is if you're allowed to hope for a world that makes sense. Fairytales provide a moral framework that the real world often lacks. In a fairytale, the giant is defeated. In the real world, the giant often gets a tax break. We need the story to remind us that the giant can be fought.

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The Psychology of the "Happily Ever After"

Psychologists like Bruno Bettelheim have spent decades arguing that these stories are essential for emotional development. In his work The Uses of Enchantment, Bettelheim suggests that fairytales help children cope with their anxieties. But guess what? Adults have anxieties too. Bigger ones.

We deal with existential dread. We deal with the loss of parents, the fear of failure, and the crushing weight of "is this all there is?"

Neurobiology and Narrative

When we engage with a story that follows a traditional fairytale structure, our brains release oxytocin and dopamine. It’s the "arc of the hero." We identify with the protagonist who starts with nothing. We feel the tension of the trial. We experience the release of the resolution.

  • The Struggle: It mirrors our daily grind.
  • The Magic: It represents the unexpected opportunities we hope for.
  • The Moral: It reinforces the idea that character matters more than status.

If you think you're too old for fairytales, you're essentially saying you're too old for hope. And that’s a dangerous place to be. J.R.R. Tolkien called this "Eucatastrophe"—the sudden joyous "turn" in a story that gives us a piercing glimpse of joy. He argued that this isn't an escape from reality, but an escape into a deeper truth.

The Modern Fairytale Renaissance

Look at our current media landscape. What are the biggest movies in the world? Superheroes. Space operas. High fantasy.

These are just fairytales with bigger budgets and better CGI.

The Mandalorian is basically a story about a knight protecting a magical child. Star Wars is a classic "farm boy becomes a hero" trope. Even "prestige" TV like Game of Thrones—while much darker—relies on the same foundational myths of dragons and destiny. We haven't stopped consuming fairytales; we’ve just started calling them "Speculative Fiction" so we don't feel embarrassed at dinner parties.

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The Problem With Irony

We live in an age of irony. We like to subvert tropes. We like to "deconstruct" the hero. While that can be clever, it often leaves us feeling empty. Sometimes, you don't want a subverted trope. Sometimes, you just want the hero to win because they were brave and kind.

There is a specific kind of courage in being earnest. Admitting you love a story where good triumphs over evil isn't a sign of low intelligence. It’s a sign of emotional health. It means you haven't let the cynicism of the world calcify your heart.

Real-World Benefits of Embracing the "Childish"

If you decide you aren't too old for fairytales, things change. Your perspective shifts.

First, you start seeing "magic" in the mundane. Not literal spells, but the "miracles" of human connection, nature, and resilience.

Second, it improves your problem-solving. Fairytales are built on the "Rule of Three." The hero fails twice and succeeds on the third try. It’s a literal blueprint for persistence. If the first two ways to slay the dragon didn't work, you don't give up; you find a third, more creative way.

Third, it provides a shared language. Whether you're in New York, Tokyo, or a small village in France, the "Cinderella" story is recognizable. It’s a universal human code. It connects us to our ancestors and to people we've never met.

Is There a Limit?

Of course, you shouldn't live in a fantasy. If you're waiting for a fairy godmother to pay your rent, you're going to get evicted.

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The balance is "informed enchantment." You know the world is messy. You know there are no literal magic wands. But you choose to believe in the values the stories teach. You use the story as a compass, not a map.

How to Reconnect with Fairytales as an Adult

If you’ve been away from these stories for a while, don't start with the Disney versions. Go back to the sources. Read the folklore of your own heritage.

  1. Read Angela Carter. Her book The Bloody Chamber reimagines fairytales with a dark, adult, feminist lens. It’s definitely not for kids, and it proves the power of the medium.
  2. Watch Studio Ghibli films. Hayao Miyazaki is a master of the modern fairytale. Films like Spirited Away or Howl’s Moving Castle deal with complex themes of environmentalism, war, and identity through the lens of the fantastic.
  3. Explore Neil Gaiman. Stardust or The Ocean at the End of the Lane are perfect examples of how "adult" fairytales can be. They are haunting, beautiful, and deeply sophisticated.

Honestly, the most "adult" thing you can do is stop worrying about what's "adult."

When we ask if we're too old for fairytales, we're usually just scared of being judged. But the most fulfilled people are usually those who have kept a bit of that childhood wonder alive. They are the ones who can see the beauty in a dark forest and the possibility in a closed door.

The Actionable Path Forward

If you’re feeling the weight of the "real world" and want to bring some of that magic back, here is how you do it without losing your mind:

  • Audit your media: For every gritty true-crime podcast or depressing news cycle you consume, balance it with something "wondrous." It doesn't have to be a literal fairytale; it can be a beautifully written novel or a film that focuses on the "Eucatastrophe."
  • Write your own "myth": Take a problem you’re facing—like a toxic boss or a health struggle—and frame it as a fairytale trial. If your boss is the "Ogre," what is your "magic item"? Is it your humor? Your support system? This shift in perspective can actually lower your stress levels by making the problem feel like a challenge rather than a dead end.
  • Read aloud: If you have kids, read to them, but pay attention to the words. If you don't, find an audiobook of classic folklore. There is something primal about hearing these stories told through the human voice. It hits a different part of the brain than reading off a screen.
  • Visit the "woods": Get into nature. Most fairytales happen in the wild. It’s hard to feel the "magic" of life when you’re staring at a gray cubicle wall. Go somewhere where the trees are older than your country.

You aren't too old for fairytales. You’re just old enough to finally understand what they were trying to tell you all along. The dragon is real. The dragon is scary. But the dragon can be beaten. That’s not a lie we tell children; it’s a truth we tell ourselves so we can keep going.

Stop apologizing for wanting a story where things turn out right. In a world that often feels like it's falling apart, believing in the possibility of a "happily ever after"—even a hard-won, messy one—is the most rebellious and grown-up thing you can do.


Practical Steps to Re-enchant Your Life:

  • Identify Your Hero’s Journey: Map out your current life stage. Are you in the "Departure" (starting something new), the "Initiation" (facing the hardest part), or the "Return" (sharing what you've learned)?
  • Curate Your Environment: Surround yourself with small reminders of wonder. It could be a piece of art, a specific book, or even just a plant that reminds you of the persistence of life.
  • Practice Gratitude as Magic: In many stories, the hero is saved because they were kind to a stranger or an animal. Look for opportunities to be the "unexpected helper" in someone else's story. It changes your brain chemistry and makes you feel like a participant in a larger, more meaningful narrative.