Each day for the next month, write a blog in letter form to the following people:
Here's the list
Day 5 — Your dreams
There are three of you who've been with me as long as I can remember. One I've achieved, one I wish I could quit and one I'll keep fighting for until the day I die.
Who would have thought that the finding someone to love me would be the easy one? When I came to San Francisco I told myself that I was coming here to hang out with gay men in the Castro. I had defined myself as a fag-hag with no intention of looking for love because those last few years in New Jersey had convinced me it was never going to happen.
Within a year of arriving I'd met hubby and in two years we were living together and six months later engaged and married. So the dream I'd already given up on came true. Thank you!
Barack Obama got one kind of dream from his father, I got another from mine-the dream of the perfect body, that I could somehow overcome nature and nurture and become a "skinny minnie." I honestly believe that as proud as he was of me for various things I accomplished, including getting published, there's some part of him that fought his own body and food issues so desperately that the thing he wanted most desperately for me was the happiness that he associated with thinness. Rationally, I know better. I know what my genetics are. I know how to eat well. I know what my triggers are. I know that thin=/=happy. And yet---there's still that illusion, that somehow, I'm going to get it right. That approaching my late 40's, I can still somehow get the body that I've been pursuing since I first realized I didn't have it.
You are the dream I hate the most.
And then there's the most elusive, shimmering illusion of my life. Validation. I was so close when my first novel got published, and then it was pulled away. But I have to keep pursuing it. Keep working on the next novel and hoping for another fluke of luck that will bring a new agent and another book deal and then the opportunity to work harder and make it happen this time. That's the dream. Literary success. Money, but more important the adulation that will fill the empty spaces left by the rejections of adolescence.
You're the dream that keeps me going.