Free in Play

Though Weila writes about the limited time she had to play, she still makes it seem like the times when she got to hang out with her friends was a kind of escape. Especially when I was younger, playing was a way for me to get out of my head, forget about my inadequacies, my fights with my parents, and lack of friends that were my age. I could stop questioning my every action, movement, word. When I was in true "play mode," I was in my most natural state.

I was in a "zone" when I was playing. I could not hear my self-criticisms and doubts over the pounding of my heart while running naked through a sprinkler, playing hide-and-go-seek, or "capture the socks." I became enveloped in running, hiding, the people I was with, and building forts or structures with every piece of furniture that could be found in the house. I could only focus on the game, the play, if I wanted to win or prove to my older friends that I was tough enough. 

Playing made me feel alive and connected to others. Playing reminded me that I was not alone, and I could take pleasure in such simple activities because of the people I was with. I felt strong when building a fort with another family that had helped raised me. They quickly became my family. I felt safe and comforted. 

There was something sacred about their home. In some ways, it was like the "home" I never had. I always thought home was where one feels most comfortable, most welcome, wanted, appreciated and a place one could make mistakes over and over again and be forgiven.

Our "play" was enhanced- more exciting, more fun, there was more laughter- because I loved that family. I did not care what kind of "play" we were doing, I was with them, I felt loved, and therefore I was happy.