I have been an avid reader since I could remember, literally. My first core memory is sitting at my mother’s side as she was hugely pregnant with my brother and reading a book explaining how babies are made. My brother was born the day after my fourth birthday. Books have always been there for me. They have been my comfort, my escape, my stabilizing influence through the trauma of this life.

I made the transition from children’s books to Fantasy and then to Science Fiction before I became a teenager, jumping into fantasy worlds in my formative years. Perhaps it was because Star Trek was one of the few shows I was allowed to watch as a child or perhaps it was because Leia was the first Princess I learned about, even before Snow White and Cinderella, but the genres of Fantasy and Science Fiction formed my world views long before I experienced the harsh realities of existence.

I always thought I loved these genres because it allowed me a sense of escapism. The world wasn’t great for me. I won’t outline my traumas because we all experience trauma in our lives and it’s impossible to quantify what makes my trauma the worst trauma ever experienced. I will say, the trauma I have experienced is the worst thing I have ever experienced in my life, so far. My experience with pain can only be measured against the pain I have experienced so I can’t say if it’s better or worse than yours.

I also considered literature to be a mirror for our world. We escaped into these worlds because the shows, the books, the movie, allowed us to see others coping with the same problems we faced. We could see how we were supposed to deal with the evils we face in this world and develop strategies to cope.

The many hours I spent under the covers with a flashlight, reading long past bedtime, allowed me to process this world and gave me comfort from trauma. It all made sense, but recently I had an epiphany. I realized Fantasy and Science Fiction was much more than an escape from the world or a reflection of the best or worst of us. This epiphany came, of all places, at a Comic-Con.

I was standing behind my booth pitching my books to a crowd of people. Thousands of bodies made their way through the crowd. Every age group, from infants to the agéd, as well as those with a variety of abilities were represented. Wheelchairs and walkers made their way through crowds of spritely children. Superheroes mingled with animé. Fantasy characters chilled with science fiction characters. Teenagers herded themselves around the rooms in packs. Families dressed their children in characters from many universes. We all found joy in the moments afforded us as we talked fictional worlds. I caught a glimpse of my brother and his family and had a few minutes of recognition of the joy we shared in the worlds we were exposed to as children. It was the first time I had actually seen him at a Comic-Con although my sisters and I often attended these events together. I wondered if he knew I used to sneak into his bedroom to read his latest stash of Wolverine comic books after they arrived in the mail when we were teenagers. Students, past and current, found me and shared the joy of the fictional world of Gods, Superbeings and Starship Captains.

As I studied the spiced variety of humanity filtering through the vendors, I was struck with the realization that Science Fiction and Fantasy didn’t allow us to escape reality, these genres allowed us to escape our limitations. They give us wings to fly when our limbs don’t allow is to stand. They allow us to reach beyond the stars to find unsullied worlds. They allow us to find talents within ourselves and make it okay to express those talents without fear of judgement. The woman who looked at my husband’s art and told me he was very talented and she could never be an artist did not know my husband was blind, wheelchair bound and only had the use of one arm. She only saw her limitations. I knew from my experience watching Star Trek if an android can learn to create art a blind man can, so I figured out how to teach him to create. And, if a blind man could create art anyone could find a way to be an artist.

My world view shifted in a moment. I now know I read to understand myself so I can stretch beyond what I believe I am limited to be. I may never step foot on a foreign planet or learn to paint an awe-inspiring art piece, but the potential will always be there. I am only limited by what my mind believes not by what my body manifests.

May the Force always allow you to Live Long and Prosper!