There’s a moment when a child stops playing in her imagination as there is “Another” watching. The play become something other than sole imaginary play and is now “observed” play. The child comes out of her unconscious and is now conscious of her presence in the world .No one really remembers this moment except me, that is. I was so lost in my play at age 4 that noticing I was being observed was an electric jolt. An intruder. As if someone could see into my mind and know what I was thinking. I was no longer playing for the sake of playing but now I played to an audience even if there was no one there. There is a psychological term for this. I forgot that term. I do know that I am almost integrated now. If I were a photograph I would be just one outline and not a series of paper dolls slightly overlapping one over the other. All those different characters I played. All the people I thought I had to be. Pleasing so many and always worried I had failed some which I’m sure I did. I became really exhausted from all of this pleasing. It is so much easier not to even notice.
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