12.08.2010

Our Secret Fantasies

When I was a little girl, I fantasized about having a horse; a tall, beautiful horse. One with a long, flowing mane and tail.  Didn’t we all?
Then I got a little older and dreamed about having the coolest hair and clothing. My five-year-plan was to graduate from high school and drive the coolest car back and forth to the cool clothing and accessories boutique that, of course, I owned.
After high school and spending a few years in the real world, I was being much more realistic with my castle building dazes. I started a family and dreamt of a perfectly clean house and a perfect frilly pink nursery and the perfect diaper bag with matching changing-mat ensemble.
It’s funny how things change. And it’s really amusing to look back and compare childhood fantasies with adulthood desires. Instead of spending hours in a mall with my friends sampling perfumes and trying on all the outfits displayed in the windows, I sometimes find myself in the local Home Depot drooling over the shiny red matching washer and dryer combo, complete with pedestal drawers and steaming rack.
Yep. I’ve given up the vision of becoming a tall, slim, forever young female who never sags and bags, who always wears heels, who always has cash to get her nails and hair done and who always has a tank full of gas in her Escalade. I’ve traded it all in for dreaming dreams that are a little more prudent and sensible. (Some people would actually call this “boring”.)
They can call me boring. Shoot! They can even call me “old”. In a sense, I suppose they are right. My life certainly has its hum-drum moments (that sometimes seem to stretch for months on end). And I suppose I am approaching (or maybe already in the midst of) middle-agedness. Maybe, if I hold out long enough, I can be that gorgeous, glamorous, fancy-car-driving, successful woman when I re-live my childhood. Of course, that’ll be in another 15 years when my last child is off to college; which would make me … (gulp!).
I now visualize my life, casting a much more practical angle on it. I fantasize that I come home from work and the house is clean; and I mean everything is put away. There are no boots and backpacks left in the melted snow-puddle on the floor. The bathroom sink isn’t full of toothpaste and hair. The only time the phone rings is when it’s family, not someone asking for money. The kids are waiting by the door for me to come home, not in the TV room playing video games, and then they actually ask me how my day was. After dinner, I actually have some peace and quiet time to read and write or talk with my sister on the phone.
My wants and desires are simpler than ever. So, why are they still so far off? Why are they still so hard to obtain?
You know when you think hard about this question as I have many, many times, I think you will find that there is no answer. Yes, that’s right. I have just led you on through my little article to bring you here, to this point, and give you a little slap in the face. Ouch!
I’m sorry. Now let’s move on….
Dictionary.com says that one definition of the word fantasy is “an imagined or conjured up sequence fulfilling a psychological need…”.
We set goals and reach them. We dream dreams and obtain them. But fantasies suit a different purpose. They are there to keep us going; to keep us reaching further and further. Without the fantastical fantasy we would be dead in our tracks. Fantasies are there in our bleakest moments, and when we are most content. My fantasies are perfect for me because they are mine. I made them exactly the way I wanted them and I can alter them at any time to suit my mood. They are safe in my mental file cabinet and I can pull out any one of them when I need it the most. I can add to my repertoire or purge the old ones. And the best part of all: We don’t ever have to tell anyone else about what they are about.
So even when I know, in reality, that the dirty dishes are piling up and we’ve run  out of clean spoons and I may be facing a long weekend with the kids who will inevitably start their ritualistic fighting on Friday evening, I know I can sit back with a hot mug of my favorite tea and enjoy the freshly produced and directed fantasy playing in my head.