Dear Digital Diary

Dear Digital Diary,

if you bury your feelings enough, it will surface in dreams.

About a month ago, I had one of those nearly-lucid dreams where it feels so real that you wake up and wonder if it was a memory or just wistful thinking. It went like this:

It was my birthday, and I was hosting a party in my house. The lower floor had been covered in a thin layer of ice, turning the wood planks into an ice skating rink. (Now it’s important to note that my birthday was two weeks after this dream, and I cannot, in fact, ice skate.)

My boyfriend, at the time, was upstairs. I wanted him to skate with me, so I went up to ask him. But when I opened the door, a plume of smoke hit me in the face. He was there, on the bed, stupidly stoned with a joint in his hand. There were three others in that room: a guy who I knew as his college roommate, a lesbian blonde skater chick (that looked a bit like Rikki from H2O), and a tall skinny brunette whom I knew, in the dream, to be his ex-girlfriend. 

I wanted him to skate with me after the trio had left. But he said he was too tired, and went to bed instead. Hurt, confused, but not willing to let it ruin my birthday party, I went downstairs to skate by myself. I had the DJ play ‘Stateside’ (heavily influenced by Alysa Liu’s Olympic performance, no doubt), and I tied on my skates. 

Now remember how I said I couldn’t skate? In the dream, I was graceful. I skated around the stairs, I spun around, I could do the jumps. I was skating beautifully. And in the dream I remember thinking, “I knew I could do this, but I was hoping he’d watch or skate with me.”

I woke up. 

Conveniently, I had therapy the next day. When I relayed the dream to my therapist, she said, “You know that you’re talented, and beautiful, and will likely be successful on your own. But it seems that you still, like most people, wish to be wanted, too.”

She could’ve at least held my hand before telling me that. 

It was true, though. 

Even the smartest, richest, prettiest, people in any room wish to be wanted. To feel seen, to be loved. It’s human nature. There’s an irony in self-sufficiency, I think. The people who have learned to carry themselves so well are often the ones who most want to be held.

Maybe that was the point of the dream.

It wasn’t trying to tell me that I needed him, or anyone at all, to prove I could skate. Somewhere deep down, I already knew I could find my footing on unfamiliar ground. That I could glide through things I’d never done before and still make it look effortless.

The dream was reminding me of something else entirely: there is a difference between needing someone to validate your worth and simply wanting to be witnessed in it.

I skated beautifully, even alone.

But independence doesn’t cancel out longing. That being capable on your own doesn’t make you any less human for still glancing upstairs, hoping someone might come down and watch.

Nobody did.

And still, I skated.

– Mia