I had a dream last night, one that I’ve never had before. It was of an event that actually happened, except this time I made a different choice. It was a seemingly insignificant moment in my life’s history compared to the dramatic unfolding that came after. But I never realized before how significant this moment was until I went back and rewrote the ending.
I was in 7th grade at the time, I was especially awkward. Things were crumbling at home, divorce was a word I had now heard of. I had my friends on the street, all boys of course, but when I got to middle school I had a bit of trouble fitting in. I was nervous, there had been a lot of screaming in my home. Middle school was overwhelming for me with the changing of the classrooms. I missed the ease of elementary school. The carefree blocks of time my friends and I would climb on top of the monkey bars and laugh at the silly boys underneath us. That was all a distant memory now. 6th grade was tough for me, a lot of fighting at home, I would escape in books. At school this would get me made fun of. My sister was older and popular, especially with the boys. She was a star cheerleader, and she loved to pick on her little sister at the time.
I remember feeling like my world was caving in on itself, like I didn’t have a family anymore. My mom nudged me to quit dancing, so I stopped the one thing I knew all my life. I was in the art room next to a girl named Crystal, she wasn’t popular but she was very nice to me. I had invited her to a sleepover at my house where we stayed tucked away in my room while my parents were fighting. This felt like an invitation to give someone insight into my secret life, the one behind the shy girl who always had her nose in a book. She was so kind to me, who knows if she understood, but I’ll never forget that day at the end of art class when three of the “cool” kids stood at the doorway.
They were there for me, they called my name and I couldn’t believe it. Two girls and a boy, the boy and I ended up dating. It was as if I walked out of that room and left myself behind that day, I’m sure that’s not how it happened. But as soon as they called me out to be one of them I knew I had to keep quiet about who I really was. I knew reading wasn’t cool, I knew smoking cigarettes was. I knew cutting class made you interesting and rebellious. I wasn’t getting anywhere being who I really was, so I decided to try something else. I realized as this came up last night that this was the first time I abandoned myself.
And from there I did it over and over and over again. I never found my way back until now. Just recently. I had to heal all the broken pieces surrounding this version of me at 12 years old. And in my dream last night, I rewrote history. I went to the door where the “cool” kids were and I told them to go on without me. I stayed behind and I continued painting, I remember that day we were learning how to mix colors together. I was painting a rainbow. And then I woke up.
Maybe my life, the exact way I have lived it, has led me back to this version of me this whole time.
The Girl Without A Face 
2 responses to “Versions of Me”
A dream of an altered reality, interesting to say the least. The fact that you remembered it so you could record it for your journal is marvelous. I wish I could do the same with my dreams.
Although you state that you began hiding your real self that year, I wonder if you were, instead, blooming to a more complete you. After all, at some point you had to grew up and it had to start at some point.
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It is so interesting when I can remember them in such a detailed way! Sometimes dreams stay with me so intensely it feels like they really happened. I’ve written poems from a few before as well. And that is such an interesting way to look at it, I like the positivity it brings. Like I had to go that way to learn everything I did. Thank you!
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