It's no secret that my childhood wasn't easy. My brother and I endured abuse both at home and in foster care, living in a world that often felt unbearably bleak. When reality became too much to bear, we found solace in D&D, role-playing games, and the endless escape of fantasy worlds. We loved creating—building intricate worlds, crafting magic systems, and letting our imaginations soar.

But not everyone saw it that way. The state didn't approve. They told us we were living in a fantasy land, slapped our hands, and banned us from playing anything that wasn't grounded in "reality." They thought D&D was dangerous—demonic, even—and convinced us there was something wrong with who we were and what we loved.

For a while, we believed them. But we survived, grew, and built lives of our own. Now, as adults with children of our own, we still create, we still write, and we still find joy in fantasy worlds. Looking back, it turns out they were wrong all along.

We weren't escaping reality. We were building something magical. And after everything, I know one thing for certain: we were right about magic.

—Cynda