A Grief Moment

Written by Tiff | A Grief Moment

Recently, I had a conversation with a friend who shared that she had an imaginary friend when she was a child. That conversation stayed with me and made me think. I started looking inward, thinking about my own childhood, and questioning why I never had an imaginary friend.

Naturally, I began to assess both of our lives. My friend was an only child who sometimes had to spend time alone while her mother worked. I grew up as one of four children and often wished I had the house to myself when my parents would go away. I wondered whether these differences had anything to do with our experiences, or whether there was more to it than just that.

So many questions filled my head, but honestly, I just didn’t know.

Over the years, I watched movies where imaginary friends were portrayed as something frightening or connected to something being wrong. But I began to wonder how much of that portrayal reflects what we actually know about the psychology behind imaginary companions.

Why do some children have them while others don’t? What is happening developmentally when a child creates an imaginary companion? And is it always just a part of imaginative play, or could it sometimes serve another purpose?

As I sat with these questions, my thoughts went a little further. I started thinking about children who experience difficult things at a young age. A child might have to change schools, move away from friends, adjust to a separation in the family, or experience the death of someone they love. These experiences are different, but each can bring changes that a child may not always know how to explain or process.

It’s also important to remember that every child is different. How one child copes with a particular experience may look very different from how another child copes with that same experience.

This made me wonder whether an imaginary companion could sometimes offer a child comfort or a sense of familiarity during difficult times. Could imagination be one way some children navigate experiences they are still learning how to understand? And what, if anything, does the research tell us about imaginary companions when it comes to coping with challenges, trauma, or loss?

I do need to be clear that these are questions I’m exploring, not conclusions I’ve reached. I don’t know that an imaginary friend serves as a coping mechanism for a child experiencing loss, and I don’t want to make that connection simply because it seems possible to me. I want to understand what researchers have found, what the evidence supports, and what we still have yet to learn.

As someone who is drawn to psychology and the experiences that shape us, I find myself increasingly curious about the things we sometimes overlook, assume we already understand, or possibly write off as normal. These conversations remind me that there can be so much more to a subject than what we see on the surface.

I naturally decided to look deeper.

When a child’s world keeps changing

Imagine a child growing up in a military family. Because of a parent’s service, the family may move several times throughout the child’s life. Each move can mean a new home, a new school, new classmates, and a new environment to learn.

Adults may understand why a move is necessary. They may even see it as an opportunity for the family. But a child can understand why a move happens and still struggle with what it means for their own life.

Just imagine having to introduce yourself over and over again to new classmates and neighbors. Imagine being that new student, having to learn new classroom routines, figure out where and who to sit with at lunch, and work out how to make new friends. Over and over again, just as you begin to feel comfortable, your life changes again.

Of course, not every military child experiences these transitions in the same way. Some children enjoy the adventure and adapt well, while others may find repeated changes more difficult. The point is not to assume that moving is harmful to every child, but to consider how differently children can experience the same circumstances.

When so much in a child’s outside world changes, what happens in their inner world?

Could an imaginary companion sometimes provide a sense of familiarity when everything else feels unfamiliar? Could a child imagine a friend who is always available to play, talk, or share an adventure, even when real-life friendships have been interrupted by another move?

These are possibilities worth exploring, but we cannot assume that children who move frequently are more likely to create imaginary companions or that an imaginary companion necessarily makes adjusting to a new environment easier.

Still, the question stays with me: Can imagination sometimes offer a child a little stability, continuity, and support in a life that keeps changing?

What about the world a child wishes they had?

Now, let’s consider another possibility.

What about a child who wishes they had a brother or sister? What about a child who has siblings but wishes they had a closer relationship with them? Or a child who longs for a relationship with a mother or father they have never known, or who wishes the relationship they have with a parent were different?

Not every only child feels that something is missing. Not every child with a difficult family relationship feels alone. Children find connection, support, and belonging in different ways. But some children do experience a longing for relationships or experiences they wish were part of their lives.

Could an imaginary companion sometimes become part of how a child explores those wishes?

Could a child imagine someone who listens to them, shares their interests, makes them feel included, or is simply there when they want company? What about a child who has never known a nurturing relationship with a parent? Could an imagined relationship give that child a way to explore ideas of care, protection, or connection?

I want to be careful here. We should not assume that a child who has an absent parent creates an imaginary companion to replace that parent. Nor should we assume that a child who wishes for a sibling must feel lonely or that an imaginary friend is evidence of an unmet emotional need.

What interests me is the question itself: Could a child’s imagination sometimes reflect not only the life they experience, but also the relationships and experiences they wish they had?

This also brings me to a broader question about loss.

We often think of loss as something we once had and no longer have. A friendship ends. A family moves away. A loved one dies. A loved one becomes ill. A familiar home or school becomes part of the past.

But can a person also grieve something they hoped for but never had? Can a child feel sadness about a relationship they wish were different? A family experience they long for? Or a sense of security they have not experienced?

Not every unmet wish is grief, and I don’t want to blur that distinction. Longing, disappointment, unmet emotional needs, and grief are related questions, but they are not interchangeable. I want to understand what psychology says about these experiences before deciding exactly how to describe them.

What really interests me is the possibility that a child’s inner world may hold more than memories of what happened. It may also hold hopes for what could happen, relationships they imagine, and possibilities they wish were real.

Could an imaginary companion sometimes be part of that inner world?

What does research actually tell us?

One of the things I wanted to understand was whether research has found a connection between imaginary companions and children’s emotional and social experiences. Researchers have studied imaginary companions in relation to children’s imagination, storytelling, social understanding, and coping. Some children describe their companions as friends, sources of entertainment, or sources of social support.

Before going further, I also wanted to understand when imaginary companions tend to emerge. Research has documented them during the preschool years, but children can also have them during the early school years. Ages six and seven are not necessarily the age at which imaginary companions first appear; they are also ages at which children may continue to have them or develop new ones.

In a longitudinal study, Taylor and colleagues examined children’s fantasy experiences and imaginary companions during the school years. Their findings remind us that these experiences can continue beyond the preschool period and that children’s imaginative lives can change as they grow. This made me wonder whether the characteristics or roles of imaginary companions might also differ as children’s developmental abilities and social worlds change.

Erik Erikson’s psychosocial theory offers one way to think about the developmental tasks children may be navigating during these years. During the stage commonly called initiative versus guilt, children increasingly initiate activities, explore their ideas, and use imagination. During industry versus inferiority, school-age children face growing expectations around learning, developing skills, participating in groups, and building a sense of competence.

Could those changing developmental experiences intersect with the ways children imagine and relate to companions? For example, could pretend play provide opportunities to explore responsibility, relationships, or confidence? Could an imagined relationship sometimes feel meaningful to a child who is learning how to navigate friendships?

These are questions, not conclusions. Erikson’s theory does not establish why children create imaginary companions, and the presence of an imaginary companion does not tell us whether a child feels guilty, lacks confidence, or struggles socially.

Research has also explored imaginary companions among children who have experienced difficult circumstances. One example is a 2017 study by Aguiar and colleagues, titled The Imaginary Companions Created by Children Who Have Lived in Foster Care.

This research compared children who had a history of foster care with children from low-income homes. The study included 21 children with foster-care histories and 39 children in a low-income comparison group. Through interviews and information about the children’s imaginary companions, the researchers explored the characteristics of these companions and the roles they appeared to serve in the children’s lives.

The researchers did not find a significant difference in how many children in the two groups had imaginary companions. The children described their imaginary companions in ways that included entertainment, friendship, and social support.

These results give us insight into how children in different circumstances experience and describe their relationships with imaginary companions. However, the findings do not establish that an imaginary companion protects a child from the effects of trauma or improves their adjustment following traumatic experiences.

Other research has examined the relationship between imaginary companions and children’s storytelling. Trionfi and Reese (2009), for example, found that children who engaged in imaginary-companion play produced richer narratives in their study. This finding offers another perspective on the relationship between imaginary companions and children’s imaginative and storytelling abilities, but it does not mean that having an imaginary companion causes stronger storytelling skills.

Researchers have also examined whether the nature of a child’s relationship with an imaginary companion matters. Gleason and Kalpidou (2014) explored imaginary companions in relation to coping and social competence. Their findings suggested that the quality of the relationship could be relevant to children’s coping and social competence. However, the results were associations, not proof that an imaginary companion caused those outcomes.

This brings me back to the questions that motivated me to explore this subject in the first place. If some children describe their imaginary companions as sources of friendship and support, could these relationships sometimes play a role in how they navigate difficult experiences? Could an imaginary companion offer a sense of familiarity when a child’s environment keeps changing? Or could it provide an imagined relationship that feels different from the relationships the child experiences in everyday life?

These are questions that motivate me to research further. The existing findings give us a reason to examine the possible emotional and social roles of imaginary companions, but they do not give us enough information to conclude that every child uses an imaginary companion to cope or that having one necessarily leads to a better outcome.

I want to look more closely at when imaginary companions tend to emerge, what might contribute to their development, when they may fade from a child’s life, and what research has found about their role during periods of stress, loss, and change. I also want to understand whether the relationships children imagine might sometimes reflect something they wish they had, rather than something they once had and lost.

What might we be overlooking?

Perhaps one of the most interesting parts of this subject is that we cannot know what an imaginary companion means simply by observing that one exists.

For one child, it may be a character in an elaborate world of adventures. For another, it may be a familiar playmate. For another, it may be a relationship that the child describes as comforting during a difficult period.

We should not assume that these experiences are the same. We should also avoid deciding that an imaginary companion must represent a missing person, an unmet need, or an experience of loss.

But we can remain curious about the possibilities.

When a child’s circumstances change, how do they make sense of that change? When they wish their life were different, how do they explore that wish? When they experience emotions they cannot yet fully explain, what helps them express or manage those feelings?

Imagination is one part of childhood that researchers continue to examine, and imaginary companions offer one way to explore the relationship between imagination and children’s social and emotional lives.

Perhaps we also need to look beyond whether a child has an imaginary companion and consider what that relationship actually looks like. When did it begin? Does it remain a consistent part of the child’s life, or does it seem to come and go? Does the child talk to the companion, introduce it to others, or keep the relationship private? What does the child say about the companion, and what role does it appear to play in their world?

These questions matter because having an imaginary companion is not one uniform experience. The age at which it appears, the way the child interacts with it, and the meaning the child gives it may all offer different pieces of information. We cannot assume that those differences reveal a problem, but we should not overlook them when trying to understand the child’s experience.

And then I find myself returning to the conversation that started all of this. My friend had an imaginary companion, and I didn’t. Neither experience, by itself, tells us everything about our childhoods, but the difference gave me a reason to ask questions I had never thought to ask before.

I began by wondering why some children have imaginary friends and others don’t. I find myself asking a much broader question: What can a child’s imagined world tell us about the many ways children experience, understand, and explore the world around them?

I don’t have a simple answer to that question, and I don’t think one explanation will fit every child.

What I do know is that curiosity asks us to look a little closer before we decide we understand.

Sometimes, the most important part of understanding a child’s world is not assuming we already know what it means.

Give yourself a moment to pause, reflect, and process.

References

Aguiar, N. R., Mottweiler, C. M., Taylor, M., & Fisher, P. A. (2017). The imaginary companions created by children who have lived in foster care. Imagination, Cognition and Personality, 36(4), 340–355. https://doi.org/10.1177/0276236617700590

Erikson, E. H. (1963). Childhood and society (2nd ed.). W. W. Norton & Company.

Gleason, T. R., & Kalpidou, M. (2014). Imaginary companions and young children’s coping and competence. Social Development. https://doi.org/10.1111/sode.12078

Taylor, M., Carlson, S. M., Maring, B. L., Gerow, L., & Charley, C. (2004). The characteristics and correlates of fantasy in school-age children: Imaginary companions, impersonation, and social understanding. Developmental Psychology, 40(6), 1173–1187. https://doi.org/10.1037/0012-1649.40.6.1173

Trionfi, G., & Reese, E. (2009). A good story: Children with imaginary companions create richer narratives. Child Development, 80(4), 1301–1313. https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1467-8624.2009.01333.x