It occured to me this morning that I have never stopped playing make-believe.  I had a very active imagination when I was a child - playing Barbies for hours with my next door neighbor best friend, inventing stories of the life I wished I would be living "when I grew up".  I liked to dress up...and of course, dance. 

And I've been pretending ever since...

pretending to be happy...pretending to feel grown up...pretending to be in love...pretending I'm not mad...pretending everything is okay...pretending I'm not scared...pretending to be smart.

I wonder what would happen if I stopped playing make-believe...