In nursing school, I took a course on child psychology where we spent a brief time discussing the phenomenon of imaginary friends. I can still recall the chill that ran down my spine when the instructor described kids engaging in detailed conversations and playtime with these so-called “friends.” My immediate thought was: this can’t be typical. Haven’t they seen horror classics like The Shining, Amityville Horror, Poltergeist, or Children of the Corn? This feels like a scene straight out of a nightmare, and I half expected to need an exorcism.
Recently, my sweet, big-eyed daughter, who is almost five, whispered to me with a conspiratorial tone, “I have two friends… in my room.” It took every ounce of self-control not to panic and bolt for the door. I thought, we’re going to need a priest or two for this one.
I once listened to an interview with a famous author who humorously claimed that he had the brain of an eight-year-old preserved in a jar. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, but the way my daughter delivered her news reminded me of that unsettling comment.
Me: “Umm, are they here right now?”
Bea: “Yes.”
Me: “Can I see them?”
Bea: “NO!”
Me: “Why not?”
Bea: “They don’t want you to know they’re here yet.”
My heart raced as I processed this. After some gentle probing, I learned that thankfully, these friends were nice and didn’t ask her to do anything sinister, like harm anyone. One looked like a balloon and the other like a rainbow—initially, I thought she said one had a balloon, which only heightened my concern. They only came to her at night with the fan on.
After a quick search online and some reassurance from psychological experts, I learned that this is completely normal for her age and a sign of a creative mind. The American Psychological Association encourages parents to foster open conversations about these imaginary companions while keeping their own fears at bay. With this newfound knowledge, I managed to survive the week without dialing the local church.
Then, yesterday morning, I was jolted awake by my daughter’s face just inches from mine. “They want to meet you now,” she whispered. I jumped up, startled—what a way to start the day!
Me: “Right now?! Who?!”
Bea: “My friends!”
As we walked to her room, I realized I needed to prepare myself. We paused outside her door.
Me: “Are they in there now?”
Bea: “They should be.”
Me: “Are they in a good mood?”
Bea: “I think so.”
Her uncertainty didn’t inspire confidence. I took a deep breath and opened the door. But as I flipped on the light, she screamed, “NO! The lights have to be off or they won’t come!”
Of course, they do. She instructed me to sit on the floor, and while it felt a bit like I was following some bizarre hostage protocol, I went along with it.
After just a few moments, she said, “They’re gone.” I was stood up by an imaginary balloon and rainbow—at 6:15 AM on a Saturday. What has my life become?
On the bright side, the APA states that these imaginary friends typically fade away after about three years, only to be replaced by new companions. Just when I thought I was getting used to these whimsical characters, I’ll have to brace myself for another round of “friends.” For more insights on how to engage with your child’s imaginative play, check out this excellent resource on pregnancy and home insemination.
In summary, while imaginary friends can be unsettling for parents, they are often a normal part of childhood development. Engaging with your child’s creativity and fostering open communication about these companions can help ease any worries.
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