Writing for me has become a lifeline--an escape into an imaginary world where hurts are only fictional and there are happy endings.
When I was a little girl, I would quite often create a make-believe family in a make-believe world. This family and world were perfect, so at 8 years old, I found myself spending hours lost in my own private world. There was no fighting, no brothers in the hospital, no hostile words spoken by others, I had all the things I needed, and even some things that I just wanted.
My imaginary family made me feel like someone cared about me; Mom dressed me beautiful pink laced dresses, and even let me wear some of her make-up. My Dad didn’t touch me in ways that I didn’t want to be touched, and being hugged actually felt good. At school, I wasn’t made fun of, instead people greeted me with a smile every morning.
The weather was always the right temperature and fragrant lilac flowers grew everywhere. I never saw anything that could give me nightmares, and in my dreams I felt blissfully happy and content. My life was filled with laughter , and every story I read had a happy ending.
It was so unlike my real life that I would spend hours alone, sipping ‘tea’ kool-aid with my dolls, and talking to myself about the things that I someday wanted to do....I had dreams then.
In my mind, I would fly away to places that I loved.
Sometimes I want to go back to being that little 8 year old girl, just so I can go back to imaginary land where everything is perfect.
When I was a little girl, I would quite often create a make-believe family in a make-believe world. This family and world were perfect, so at 8 years old, I found myself spending hours lost in my own private world. There was no fighting, no brothers in the hospital, no hostile words spoken by others, I had all the things I needed, and even some things that I just wanted.
My imaginary family made me feel like someone cared about me; Mom dressed me beautiful pink laced dresses, and even let me wear some of her make-up. My Dad didn’t touch me in ways that I didn’t want to be touched, and being hugged actually felt good. At school, I wasn’t made fun of, instead people greeted me with a smile every morning.
The weather was always the right temperature and fragrant lilac flowers grew everywhere. I never saw anything that could give me nightmares, and in my dreams I felt blissfully happy and content. My life was filled with laughter , and every story I read had a happy ending.
It was so unlike my real life that I would spend hours alone, sipping ‘tea’ kool-aid with my dolls, and talking to myself about the things that I someday wanted to do....I had dreams then.
In my mind, I would fly away to places that I loved.
Sometimes I want to go back to being that little 8 year old girl, just so I can go back to imaginary land where everything is perfect.
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