When “Stranger Things” first premiered in 2016, watching it was like stepping through a portal into the ’80s. Characters were using landline phones, playing Dungeons & Dragons in the basement and riding bikes unsupervised until the streetlights came on. At the time, I was in middle school and completely in awe of every aspect of the show — including how much I related to its protagonists. Eleven, one of the show’s lead characters, was discovering her love for Eggo waffles. Mike, another lead, was working through his first-ever crush. We were all discovering who we were, figuring out if our crush liked us and navigating friendships.
Nine years later, we’ve all grown up. Millie Bobby Brown, one of the child leads in “Stranger Things,” is married and has a child of her own. Those of us who watched Eleven close the Upside Down are now closing our college laptops, and some of us are even married. As “Stranger Things” prepares to close out its story with its fifth and final season, it’s hard not to feel a little sad about it — because “Stranger Things” doesn’t just tell a story about kids growing up and fighting monsters. It’s a story about what it means to grow up, and its characters grew up alongside us.
But as magical of an 80s-themed trip as the show is, it hasn’t escaped criticism completely. Critics have made plenty of jokes about the extended gaps between seasons and how much the show’s young leads have aged between seasons. (Did I mention that Millie Bobby Brown now has a baby?) Did those long gaps build anticipation or cause viewers to drift away and lose interest in the plot?
While I was in high school, the wait between seasons felt endless. I would move on to different shows and forget about “Stranger Things.” I would stop eagerly texting my friends about what I thought might go down in Hawkins — would the kids finally close the Upside Down once and for all? Would Nancy and Steve get together again? The wait just stretched for too long, and my interest faded. But inevitably, every new season felt like re-opening a time capsule and being transported back to my favorite place — Hawkins, Indiana.
On the other hand, the waiting became part of the “Stranger Things” experience. My friends and I eagerly looked forward to each season, counting the days down, ready for the adventure that we were about to embark on. The gaps became a part of growing up with the show.
But beneath the charm, nostalgia and aesthetic comfort of the show, something darker was lurking. Monsters lived beneath the surface in a world called the Upside Down, and Mike, Dustin, Will, Lucas and Eleven quickly lost their innocence as they were called on to face the monsters. As an adult who began her journey into the Upside Down as a kid, these themes have deepened with time for me, mirroring the chaos and brokenness of a confusing world. The more I grow up, the more real the danger becomes.
This show teaches viewers how to fight darkness, how to fight for good and how to cling to truth in a world that doesn’t know what truth means. Even in the darkest moments of “Stranger Things,” friendship and loyalty bind the characters together. They cling to any small chance of redemption that might remain.
As “Stranger Things” closes its nostalgic, beloved story, I feel like I’m saying goodbye to my childhood in a way. A story that began as an escape from the real world is now a reflection of how we all face change, fear and growing up. When the credits roll for the last time, I know I’ll be reminded of the heart of “Stranger Things” — that even in the strangest and darkest place, there’s always a glimmer of light.
