My daughter does not have an invisible friend. Instead, she has an armada of invisible cartoon characters and fictional creatures of whom Walt Disney and his cohorts would have been proud. While other children can take this extraordinary friendship to almost uncontrollable levels where parents are required to set additional places at the table, my daughter has limited her remarkable imagination to the confines of the garden and bedroom. While her companions may not join us for tea, they most certainly watch television with us and keep her occupied when she is frolicking around the garden with a wand in hand. After all, what would a 3 year old’s back yard tomfoolery be without a unicorn in tow?
So who are these imaginary friends and why do they make a sporadic appearance in the lives and worlds of imaginative babes whose minds know no bounds?
My first logical reaction to D’s new found magical playmates is that perhaps she is lonely. In recent weeks she has been separated from her older sister for some time, not to mention almost all of her toys that are now here in the UK and is forced to spend most of her time with Daddy. No matter what he does, tutu or not, he will just never really be Clarabelle the invisible fairy who loves all the same movies as D does. It is funny how she really did not enjoy watching ‘How to train your dragon’ and had this irrational fear of Toothless (I think he is gorgeous) but magically, when Clarabelle is with her, she will watch the movie. The truth is that the logical reaction is not my first one. I am whimsical first, I am a parent second. Let me explain.
When Daddy stubbed his toe this morning, it was my daughter’s instant and rational response to heal his wound with her wand. When Daddy did not play along and told her his toe was still sore, she went outside in true Malucia style to steal magic from the unicorn to heal daddy’s foot. My worry here was not that she was looking for a unicorn (Apparently I found that part acceptable), it was that she was trying to steal from someone else and be the evil thief Malucia from yet another Barbie movie. I realized I did not give her enough credit because after running around the garden for some time looking for her magical creature friends hiding in various garden crevices, she came back to tell Daddy that she would give the magic back to her friends as soon as his toe had healed because she is not naughty like Malucia is.
Fair play D, fair play.
As someone who loves reading and writing, I often wonder if I too am exposed to the likes of imaginary friends in the recesses of my author brain. While I have not yet written a book (Despite starting a few times) , the characters that I want to use in these unfinished novels live quite comfortably next to the cranial cabinet marked File 13… not quite ready to be packed away for an eternity, but living close enough to the edge that I do not appear a loon. These characters are after all mostly fictional, despite being loosely based on personal experience and sub conscious memories, who’ve been imagined many a time doing super human feats with Macgyver like ambition. Who are these make believe, fanciful beings but a reincarnation of my own child like attributes made manifest? If it is acceptable for JK Rowling to breathe life to a dementor, it should be more than acceptable for a child’s best friend to be invisible as well as invincible.
I have done my fair share of internet exploration on the subject and sadly every website or page you come across has the intention of making you believe there is a hidden, more serious meaning behind having an imaginary friend. Most articles accept the existence of imaginary friends, but however ‘normal’ they are made to sound, there is some psychologist somewhere looking for a reason for their existence. I refuse to accept this and instead I am happy to acknowledge D’s magical friends for what they are – IMAGINARY FRIENDS. A friend she has imagined.
Because she can.
Because she has an imagination.
Because she is not held ransom to unnecessary ideals of realism.