I went through a dreamer phase when I was a child. I used to think about all kinds of heroic things, with of course, myself in the role of hero. Much of the time, I was basing my heroic roles on tv shows or movies I had seen or books I had read. I was Huck Finn for a while. I was a poor young guy who rubbed a magic lamp, I was a WW I pilot (Billy Bishop), I was several of King Arthur’s knights. As time went on, I made up variations on these heroes. I put a spin on them, if you will. They started to become quite different from their original incarnations.
These heroes were all male; while I dreamed, I inhabited a male persona. Eventually and as I aged, they became female, and then there was a short romantic period where I became the one who needed to be rescued, instead of doing the rescuing.
By the time I was about 11 or 12, these dreams vanished altogether. They were being replaced by reality, and I had to start thinking about how I was going to get on. Dreamers were nothing but dreamers.
One thing that I knew was that I didn’t want to be where I was, in that house with my troubled and narcissistic mother who tried to control every living thought and breath. There were some good moments with her, but they were few and far between.
My dreams became plans. How to get out and get away. There were money considerations, and how I was going to do what I wanted to do.
I knew that I needed to do as well academically as I could, and after that, it would be a question of funds. Where would that come from?
Eventually, I figured that out too.
In a way, dreaming saved me. Without it, I wouldn’t have been inspired to try to do something that wasn’t typical. The spirit of those knights and adventurers were behind me, exhorting me to keep trying, to not give up.
They taught me how to not need rescuing.
So for me, it wasn’t a childhood passage, it was a connection to a necessity.
What about you?
Are you a dreamer?