I have crazy dreams and I love to analyze them. Dreams open up a whole new world that we’re just not in touch with when we’re awake and I think they mean so much more than we know or are willing to accept.
Last night, I had a dream that I can’t stop thinking about. Jim Carrey was the star, which I can understand because he fascinates me and I read about him often. I think he’s a genius and more self-aware than the rest of us, so maybe that’s why he spoke to me. I woke up feeling honored.
Most of my dreams take place in my hometown in Upper Michigan. This dream was inside the JCPenney’s that we used to have in town back in the 80’s and 90’s. I was invited to a fancy party and I had to have the perfect dress. Back then, JCPenney’s was really our only option.
Upstairs, I could see several mannequins. When I went to get a closer look, I realized that they were all wax figures of famous people dressed up in strange costumes. Then I saw Jim. He was completely still, pretending to be a mannequin, only I knew he was real. He was wearing a red sequined shirt and black and white checkered pants. I walked up to him and whispered, “I know that you’re real” and then I touched his face. He looked at me and stood up and made a sarcastic joke about his “gig” being over now. We laughed.
We walked around the store and he was giving me his advice on different dresses that I was looking at. He was being very fatherly in the dresses that he wanted me to choose. But, I kept going towards the shorter, tighter dresses. He kept asking me why. I didn’t have the answer. Then he asked me to take a selfie with him. Of course, I did.
It was time for him to go. I needed him to remember me. I also needed to get a copy of the picture he took of us. I started scrambling around for a piece of paper. I told him “I will give you my phone number so you can send me the picture, I promise I won’t be a stalker” and he laughed.
As I was frantically searching for a piece of scrap paper, I kept coming across folders that were filled with photos of me. I’m talking hundreds of folders. I think every picture ever taken of me was included in these folders. They were over flowing. I was going to write my number on the back of a picture for him, but I was taking too long trying to find the perfect picture to give him. In one picture, I thought my legs looked too fat. In another picture, my nose looked wide. In another picture, I looked too young.
He just kept staring at me in silence as I rummaged through all the thousands of photos of me, just to find a tiny corner to write my phone number on. I could feel his disappointment in me.
Finally I started to cry because I couldn’t find the right picture. It had to be perfect.
I don’t know why, but as I looked up at him, I was compelled to hug him. I just walked up to him, with my head down, almost ashamed, and wrapped my arms around him. He embraced me. He touched my chin and gently tapped my face so I would look up at him. I will never forget what he said to me.
“If I murder the man who did this to you, will you be with me?” I said yes. We stared at each other for a few moments and I remember how desperately I didn’t want to wake up. But then I did.
I have been reliving the dream for the past 10 hours. It’s haunting me, but in a good way. Here are my thoughts…
1. Jim Carrey is the one person I would love to spend a day with if I could choose anyone. I respect him tremendously and when he speaks, I am captivated. It’s not a celebrity crush or anything like that. It’s just a fascination with his mind and how it works. He also can make me laugh like no one else can. The “I know that you’re real” comment means that I know good people still exist.
2. The short, tight dresses are very symbolic to me. For too many years, I dressed in a way that made me feel uncomfortable because I truly believed that was the only way I would get noticed. I was desperate for the attention. I love that Jim questioned me on why I needed something so short and tight. I remember my family members questioning my “bar outfits” because they were so revealing and barely fit. I would show as much skin as possible. I really try not to judge anyone based on how they dress, but if I’m honest, when I see young girls dressed like that now, it makes me nauseous. There is so much more to these young girls than their bodies, they just don’t know it yet. I want to walk up to them and shake them and tell them that the size of their breasts or ass is not what they should be using to attract people. But I get it! Because I did the same thing for years! I would post pictures of my overly exposed cleavage and then lay awake at night feeling dirty.
Please, wear whatever makes you feel comfortable. But I didn’t feel comfortable and I did it anyways, because I thought my body was my most valuable asset. I thought my body was what really mattered. I thought my body defined my worth.
3. Dreaming of a mannequin usually is connected to feeling unnoticed. However, you should pay close attention to what the mannequin is wearing and whether or not the mannequin can communicate with you. Well, I fully believe Jim coming to life and wearing red sequins means I am finally coming out of my shell and feeling more comfortable with my true self.
4. The pictures of me can most likely be explained by my obsession with appearance. From the age of 12, I believed that all I was good for was my body. I believed that my looks were all that were important. There was something wrong with every single picture, and that is because I only could see my flaws. If I didn’t look perfect, or show my skin, no one would see me, no one would talk to me and I was not worthy of being noticed. It didn’t matter who I was as a person. For far too long, I valued myself only on everything that others could see.
5. I disappointed Jim in taking too long. No, actually I’ve been disappointing myself. It took me far too long to see that the person I am is what matters. I also think this is where the selfie comes in. He wanted me to see myself the way that others do.
6. Finally, his comment about murdering a man might seem a bit extreme, but I get it. Because the man who made me believe my body was the only thing of value was never held responsible. He walked away. He took my innocence without my permission, violently and I have been holding on to that anger for over 20 years. I let go of that hatred though, so I could heal. But I’ve never overcome the fear and I never feel completely safe. All I’ve ever wanted, my whole life, was to feel safe and to know that there would be someone there to protect me. I finally got that last night, if only in a dream.