I have always lived partially in a dream world. Not just any dream world, but a specially crafted and insulated dream world. Occasionally I open a window and peer out. I take stock of the outside world and all it has to offer, all that it is missing. Then, I shut that window nice and tight and live in my little world until I feel that it is necessary to view reality again.

This little fact about how I choose to live is often thrown in my face as an accusation, usually by those that feel it is wrong to be so oblivious to all the ugly, horrible truths that create reality. These same people want to see the hard, sharp claws of life and hold onto that pain that the lacerations inflict, rejecting complete healing. They tear at the scabs and the scars, trying to cut out or keep open all the hurt that was purposefully or incidentally pressed upon them. They take all that was a burn and look around them for any sharp tool or branding iron of the present or future and worry at the past wound. The healing almost never comes and so they never see the beauty scars can lend to their world, their lives. And because I do not choose to see my pain, my scars, my past hurts as something ugly, because I choose to see how beautiful I have and will become, how the scars have shaped and formed me, becoming tools, experiences that I can give and use to make not only my little world better, but influence others as well, I am accused of dreaming and not seeing.

What these people don't know, what they refuse to see is that I'm not completely oblivious. What these people don't understand is that I do choose to see reality. Only, I choose to allow it to transform me into something stronger and better than what was in my place before, no matter how much it hurts, so that I can face the monumental as well as the trivial. So that I can keep opening that window and continue to change and grow and become. So that I can keep dreaming and living in my carefully created and cherished life.

I realize that I could remain in my cocoon and be safe, allowing the padding of my dreams, wants, and desires to weave a web about me. I could very easily allow this, but then what would happen to me? I would rot. The sweet, sugary threads of that which is only hopes and dreams would begin to disintegrate, fall on my skin and eat me away. I would be nothing but a wisp of a person. And this is not who or what I want to be.

So, it's not that I don't want to be a part of real life, only I want it on my terms. And, since it is my life and my options are endless, I live that way. Funny how I never realized any of this until recently, within the past few years. Funny how it takes 30 years to realize I can do what I want. Nothing holds me back but myself. I just wish everyone knew this little secret.