A story touches my heart: My dream ended when I was born. Although I never knew it then, I just held on to something that would never come to pass. Dreams really do exist. But in the morning when you wake up, they are remembered just as a dream. That is what happened to me. I always have the dream to dance like a beautiful ballerina twirling around and around and hearing people applaud for me. When I was young, I would twirling around and around in the fields of wildflowers that grew in my backyard. For hours I would dance as if people were watching me. I would dance so fast that I would forget where I was, until I would hear sounds that reminded me of where I really was. I thought that if I twirled faster everything would disappear and I would wake up in a new place. Reality woke me up when I heard a voice saying, "I don't know why you bother trying to dance. Ballerinas are pretty, slender little girls. Besides, you don't have the talent to even be a ballerina." I remember how those words paralyzed every feeling in my body. I feel to the ground and wept for hours. We lived in the country by a nearby lake and I would sometimes go there to hide. My parents were never home anyway and I did not like to be at home where I could hear the walls talking of pain. When they were home, my mother just yelled and criticized because nothing was ever perfect in her life. She dreamed of a different life but ended up living in a country far away from the city where she believed her dreams would have come true. I enjoyed hanging out by the water. I would sit there for hours and stare at my reflection. There I was, looked nothing like a pretty ballerina dancer. Reflections don't lie. Once the waves would come, my reflection was gone. Washed away just like my dream to dance. I sat there staring at the water, hoping that my reflection would reappear and be different. As I grew older, I began to realize that the reason my dream was even born in the first place, was because it was something that was inside of me. The dream I had was never nurtured and cared for, so it slowly died. It's not that I wanted it to die, but I allowed it to die the day I started listening to the words, "You can't do it." When I finally woke up from many years of dreaming, I realized that you can't settle for dancing in the wildflowers, you have to move on to the platform. I still go to the lake sometimes and sit there. Looking at my reflection is different now too. When I was young, I looked at how others saw me, now that I am older and wiser; I look at how God sees me.
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