Sonder: Youth Mental Health Stories of Struggle & Strength | Page 112

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By Emma Ginsberg
When I was four years old, I had my very first dream. It consisted of what you would
expect to find in the dreams of a preschooler: Halloween costumes, friends, a dog,
and flying. I recall being astounded at how strangely free I had felt when I was soaring
above the clouds in the night sky, making it from place to place in record time. And,
as someone who had never thought too hard about homo sapien flight, I became
infatuated with flying.
During elementary school I obsessed over all things Peter Pan, because to me a cute
boy in flight was all that I needed in life. By then, my perception of flying had changed
since my pre-K days; I viewed it not as a means for transportation but instead the
epitome of freedom. It felt significant and passionate to think of flying back then, as
though the thought itself could lift me off the ground.
It was surprising, then, when I starte