I was handed reality way too early.
The young twenties are supposed to be a time for exploration and learning – doing – experiencing. That’s all I set out to do. I’ve only ever been normal. Ordinary really. And that suited me.
My life was 23.5 years in the making. I had 8,574 days before it changed. Before I woke up in my new body with a new perspective. It takes some getting used to. I’m venturing out and giving it a try.
Sometimes I feel lucky. Lucky like the Skin Horse in the Velveteen Rabbit. I won’t have to spend those years wondering, “What is Real?” “What is Goodness?” “What is Important?”
“Real isn’t how you are made,” said the Skin Horse. “It’s a thing that happens to you. . . .”
“Does it hurt?” asked the Rabbit, trying to understand.
“Sometimes,” said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. “But once you are Real, you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand. And once you are Real, you can’t ever become unreal again. It lasts for always.”
Maybe reality is something I can get used to.