Today while I was writing, I remembered that I had a lot of
imaginary friends growing up. My friends included a diverse cast that, at one
time or another, included Major Houlihan who was a character from MASH, “Closet girl” who
lived in the huge walk-in closet I shared with my mother, and “Andy” who was
the mission commander from the movie Space Camp.
My best and closest imaginary friend was one that looked
exactly like me. She was my reflection in the washing machine that took up way
too much space in the master bathroom of my parent’s New York apartment. There
was a time when I talked to her everyday. I imagined that there was another
entire world, identical to ours, but different. She lived there. All this
happened through a tunnel, on the other side of the washing machine. A washing
machine as a gateway to another world? We work with what we know, I guess.
Alice had a Looking Glass.
In that world, nothing bad ever happened. When something bad
happened in my world, it went the way I wished it had in her world. I didn’t
envy her; I loved her. A place that was perfect and safe should take up
infinite space in a child’s world. No one had allergies, no one was sent to
their room for “talking back,” no one felt lonely.
In retrospect, I’ve always been a lonely person. It’s not
something I would change about myself though. We’re taught to run from loneliness and
solitude, forgetting that it serves a purpose. It’s the time to develop our
relationship with ourselves.
My washing machine friend is something I’ve never admitted to
anyone. It’s likely I was worried what people thought of me, having imaginary
friends WAY beyond the time when it was “developmentally appropriate.” I still
talk to myself when I’m sitting in traffic- no one can tell because they think
I’m on the phone (thank you to the inventor of Bluetooth).
Hiding my imaginary worlds from others was unnecessary. I am
grateful for my imaginary friends, for they taught me how to believe. We all
have a parallel self, in a perfect world. It gives us hope to think about how things
should be. If we don’t imagine the way things should be, how can we change how
things are?
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