When a World No Longer Holds You

 For the past fifteen years, Second Life has been part of my every single day. It was my safety blanket — the place I always returned to. A constant, a comfort.

But something has shifted. Yesterday, for the first time in over a decade, I didn’t log in at all. Not because I was avoiding it, but because I was too absorbed in something new: creating with my own hands, with help, with love. Part of that shift comes from the medications I’m on now — they’ve changed how I see myself and the world around me.

And here’s the surprising part: I didn’t miss it. The people I meet there, the energy — it doesn’t hold me the way it once did. It feels like I’ve outgrown it.

Even the things I used to buy there don’t fit me anymore. What I shopped for never really reflected the things I use in my daily life, or matched my style. Apart from lingerie, most of what’s out there just isn’t me. I used to shop every weekend, filling in that gap. But now? I haven’t gone shopping in over two weeks. And I don’t feel like I’ve lost anything — because I don’t need to. I can create my own things, and they finally reflect who I am.

One big shift came when I finally got the wheelchair I had wanted for over fifteen years. Seeing myself in Second Life with it — moving as I truly do in real life — changed everything. For the first time, my avatar wasn’t just an image, it was a reflection. I could really see myself. And once I did, I couldn’t go back to the things that didn’t feel true anymore.

When Second Life introduced actual mirrors, everyone rushed to them. People were excited to see themselves in a new way. But I didn’t care about those mirrors — they never showed me the truth. My real mirror was my wheelchair. That was the moment I truly recognized myself, and that reflection meant more to me than any surface ever could.

And then another shift came: the moment I realized I could create things with my own hands. With the right tools, it wasn’t nearly as complicated as I had feared. Suddenly the question became: What else can I do? What else am I capable of? The spark of creation turned into possibility, and possibility turned into freedom.

It’s becoming clearer to me each day: I’m outgrowing something that once kept me grounded. And yet, I don’t feel sad about it. I feel free.

And maybe the next spark is already waiting for me.