There’s something uniquely poignant about watching child actors grow up before our eyes, especially when they’re embedded in a cultural phenomenon like Stranger Things. We first met these kids as awkward pre-teens navigating middle school drama and supernatural threats in Hawkins, Indiana. Now, nearly a decade later, they’re young adults with careers, relationships, and identities that extend far beyond the Upside Down. What fascinates me isn’t just the physical transformation—the inevitable march of time that turns boys into men and girls into women—but the psychological journey of having your entire adolescence documented and scrutinized by millions of strangers.
The most heartbreaking revelation comes from Millie Bobby Brown’s experience with public criticism about her changing appearance. Imagine being told you look “40” when you’re barely 21, simply because you no longer resemble the 12-year-old character that made you famous. This speaks to a disturbing phenomenon in our celebrity-obsessed culture: we want our child stars to remain frozen in time, preserved as the innocent characters we fell in love with. When they dare to grow up, when their faces mature and their voices change, we react with confusion and sometimes cruelty. Millie’s journey from trying to please critics to embracing her natural evolution represents a powerful act of self-preservation in an industry that often demands perpetual youth.
Caleb McLaughlin’s experience adds another layer to this complex narrative—the intersection of growing up famous while navigating racial dynamics in Hollywood. His revelation that being Black affected his fan support and opportunities highlights how child stardom isn’t a universal experience. While all the Stranger Things kids faced the pressure of public scrutiny, Caleb had to contend with additional barriers that his white co-stars likely didn’t encounter. His parents’ heartbreaking advice—that this is “just how sad the world is”—speaks volumes about the extra emotional labor required of young Black actors in predominantly white spaces.
What’s particularly striking is how these young actors have managed to build substantial careers beyond their breakout roles. Finn Wolfhard forming indie bands, Gaten Matarazzo releasing music, Millie Bobby Brown becoming a producer and business owner—these aren’t just side projects but deliberate efforts to establish identities separate from their Stranger Things characters. They’re refusing to be defined by a single role, even one as massive as this Netflix phenomenon. This strategic diversification feels like both a creative necessity and a survival mechanism in an industry known for typecasting.
The final season of Stranger Things will inevitably mark the end of an era, not just for the show but for these actors’ transition into full adulthood. They’ll complete this journey that began when most of them were barely teenagers, having grown up learning their craft in front of cameras and critics alike. The most valuable lesson from their experience might be this: growing up is challenging enough without doing it under a microscope. Their resilience in the face of unrealistic expectations and public judgment serves as a powerful reminder that celebrities, even young ones, deserve the space to evolve, make mistakes, and simply become who they’re meant to be—without our commentary on every change along the way.