I was a dreamer.

I was a lonely kid almost all my childhood. I know what it is like to be a loner. I kept feeling neglected, replaced, and lonely with every fight at home. Whenever something went wrong, I would run away somewhere or start looking at the wall and dream things I wish would happen to me and put an end to my misery.

As a child, I heard and read too many fairy tales, which had this damsel in distress and a prince, who would always come and save her. And that’s exactly what I wanted- to be saved from all my life’s problems and also, from myself.

Those dreams happened to be my getaway from the real world I was living in. They gave me hope, someday, someone might come along, make me feel better about myself, about my life and every damn thing. Unfortunately, that never really did happen. In reality, every guy I met was full of himself, just like me. Soon I was tired, resentful, and hopeless.

It took me several months of therapy to understand and accept the fact that nobody is going to save me, I have to do it on my own. I learned that I am not some damsel in distress, and no guy is a prince and that those are some stupid ideas girls have been fed from childhood by society, media, and almost by everyone.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I gave up dreaming completely, but now I know the fine line between unrealistic and realistic dreaming. And, I know you wouldn’t disagree when I say that reality is somewhat better than dreaming.

 

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6 thoughts on “I was a dreamer.

  1. theclumsyvixen,

    Do you not wish you were Instagram famous?

    If you’re like me, you have scrolled through Instagram, wondering “how do these darn people get so rich and famous”?

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    You pull out your cell.

    Click the Instragram App.

    Hmmm, you think, Over 1000 likes on a single picture.

    You rise out of the bed, stalk to the kitchen. You want a drink, so you place the kettle on for some coffee, and check Instagram again.

    Bam! Another 87 likes.

    Here comes another one. This time it’s not a like but a message from one of your followers. They commend you on your success and let you know they love waking up to your content.

    The kettle blows and you pour your tea. When you flip out your phone, there’s another message–this time from a young girl–thanking you for posting. She follows you religiously and your’e an inspiration.

    As you begin to respond, your phone buzzes again.

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    Like

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