People often talk about how children stop believing in Santa Claus, but they never really mention how they lose access to Rainbowland.

Brimming with color, magic, and endless possibilities, I spent most of my childhood in Rainbowland. I could stay there for hours on end, until my teachers snapped me back to Earth.

You’re on the moon! They’d say.

It’s not the moon, it’s Rainbowland, I would think to myself.

But really, what did they expect? Any kid would prefer the infinite rivers and glowing forests of Rainbowland over a dull classroom filled with stiff desks and lifeless books. In Rainbowland, I could be anything I wanted. There was no such thing as shortage or limitation.

One day, as I stepped into Rainbowland, I was met with a door where there had once been none. Three locks sealed it; I had no keys, and no one was there to open it for me.

And just like that, my rainbows shattered into insecurities, leaving me with doubt, fear, and anxiety.

For many years, I was trapped in the so-called “real world”. I was suddenly unlucky. Things became hard, and hard work wasn’t enough. I was either too much or not enough. External factors seemed to control my life, and “logic” wouldn’t allow me to tame my negative thoughts.

Yet I wasn’t ready to become a colorless soul. And so, the quest for the keys began.