The Death of My Childhood

I had such a strong dream last night. I remember several parts. The one that sticks out most is the image of 7 yr old me standing in my front yard in the snow with red socks and a red dress. I asked her what she was doing out in the snow with socks on and she said that mom says its ok, which I knew wasn’t true but in the dream I accepted it. I looked at little me for a while, noticing my giddiness, my happiness, my childness. I saw my nose, so much smaller but the same nose as the one I have now—long with a little ball at the tip. And then I started crying and so did she. I held her—she was so small I realized—and I was even sadder by how sad she was. She crumbled in my arms, crying.  I felt her shaking as I looked down at her and I couldn’t believe I was holding a younger version of myself. How is this possible? I thought. But it was so real, so believable. I could feel the weight of her body in my arms so clearly. My childhood is dying I remember thinking. This is the ghost of my childhood and she is dead.

Later I was riding bikes with a friend of Zoya’s named Katie. She had a bike that fit her but mine was too small. She told me she had to move the seat up on hers so I tried doing that but it never stayed. The bike was just too small for me. I remember telling her that maybe we shouldn’t ride to Bread and Circus because of the hole in her heart (which she really has) but she insisted. I remember how hard it was for me, and not for her. The bike was so small and my legs were getting overworked. I was exhausted by the end of it.

At another point in my dream I was in my basement with Alex and maybe Marcel. I remember I wanted to look cool to them, impress them with the movies I had but all I could find was Flubber and other childish movies. I wouldn’t impress them with these, I thought to myself.

Then I remember it was a holiday and I was disappointed that we weren’t going to be eating any of the roast beef (that I picked up at Bread and Circus with Katie?); that the whole holiday was called off. I don’t remember why anymore. But I remember feeling especially disappointed— really let down that my family didn’t go through with the holiday. I had been looking forward to it all day and now it wasn’t happening.

When I woke up I was overwhelmed, particularly by the experience with the 7 year old me. I couldn’t believe I saw my childhood self so clearly. It was so truly real and yet, here I am in bed with no little Olivia in red socks laying in my arms. What do all these things mean? 

I have been thinking throughout today about what I dreamt. I’ve decided that this is my subconscious telling me that childhood is over. I’m grown now. I no longer am the little girl who disobeys my parents by wearing red socks in the snow—I make my own choices now. And my bike, my way of moving around my world, is too small for me. It’s time for a new bike, a new approach. And no longer does it matter who I impress with surface ideals. Whether I watch Flubber or not is insignificant. It is not what defines me.

After all of this, my dream ends with feeling that my family let me down. But nothing is as it seams in a dream. Rather, I interpret this as signifying my need to break out of the comfort of my family. I can’t always depend on family tradition; I need to make my own way. I relate this to my desire to move out. It is too easy to fall back on the comforts of the familiar. I yearn for something new, something separate and clearly my own. It’s not to say I wish to abandon family holidays but I think it is time to make my own life. This is my life and my childhood has ended.