By: Jessica Reyes
I grew up believing in magic.
It was part of my family’s everyday life.
I saw how my parents risked everything— even their lives — for the chance at the American Dream.
I grew up seeing the rewards of such big risks. It took them to faraway lands with more money and opportunities. My parents were always dreamers and taught me to always bet on myself because the universe bends in your favor.
I grew up fascinated by the stories they told of the riches we had and all the land we owned back in Mexico.
My dad would fill our car rides with elaborate stories of his life growing up in rural Mexico and LA. His stories had a sprinkle of mysticism that would go on for hours, never forgetting a single detail that lived in his head.
My grandmother was my very own fairy godmother and made herbal potions that would cure my stomach aches with a sip.
I lived in a fairytale where I was the princess of the Reyes Royal family.
But the Dream came at a price. It wasn’t all rainbows and butterflies I realized.
When I was old enough to see past the cracks of the fantasy world they painted. The stories didn’t hold up and the magic fell flat. The clock struck midnight, I lost my slipper, and my dress turned to rags.
I saw how my parents relied on fake magic. The quick fixes and cheap solutions. They pushed their luck and spent their whole life savings at the casino. Where flashy lights helped them forget what they were running from only to go straight back to reality when the money ran out.
The house always won and it was never ours.
The world was tough on them and sometimes too hard to bare, so they turned to their internal world.
I saw the horror of what living in a daydream could do to your life. Somewhere along the line I stopped believing in magic and I promised myself I would never dream again because it was all a big lie. I became serious and practical and life lost its shimmer.
Now that I’m older and allowing myself to dream again, I can’t help but thank them for the magic I saw growing up. It wasn’t a lie, they created beautiful stories for me and instilled the deep-seated belief of magic. The magic wasn’t rooted, but it was there. I felt it.
They taught me how important courage is to stand up to your reality and make it your own. Because we are the creators of our reality just like we create our dreams.
They taught me how beautiful dreams are and how they do come true! I learned from them the importance of actioning out your dreams so they don’t remain in the clouds. Now that I’m older, I realize they gave me such a gift.
They showed me the importance of building your dreams where it matters most: the life you wake up to.
