“Wake Up, It’s Just a Dream”: What It Means to Consciously Exit Your Dreams
By Kaya Gravitter
Most nights, we drift into sleep and let our dreams take over, often with little control over what unfolds. But for as long as I can remember, I’ve been able to do something that surprises even psychology professors, Dr. Marlowe Embree: I can wake myself up from my own dreams.
When a dream becomes too intense or frightening—when the scenery gets strange or the emotions become too heavy—I tell myself, “Wake up. It’s just a dream.” And I do. I actually wake up.
This isn’t just an odd quirk of sleep. It’s something called lucid dreaming, and my ability to exit a dream at will puts me in a small percentage of people who can do more than just recognize that they’re dreaming. We can take action. We can pull ourselves out.
Lucid dreaming occurs when you become aware that you’re dreaming while still in the dream. For some people, this awareness is fleeting. For others, it opens the door to incredible control—flying through the sky, revisiting memories, or even confronting fears.
In my case, I don’t stay to play. I leave.
Psychologically, this type of control is rare, but not abnormal. Studies estimate that about 20–30% of people have lucid dreams at least once in their lives. But far fewer can consistently make decisions within the dream, especially the decision to wake up.
When I shared this in a college psychology class, my professor was amazed. It turns out this isn’t something everyone can do, even if they want to.
Why Do I Wake Myself Up?
I’ve thought about this a lot. Why, instead of shaping the dream or letting it run its course, do I choose to leave?
Part of it might be emotional regulation. I’ve experienced enough in waking life to recognize when a dream is tipping into discomfort or chaos. Rather than stay trapped in that mental space, I eject. My mind protects itself.
Another part might be tied to control. Those of us who’ve lived through trauma or instability sometimes develop a strong inner compass for safety boundaries that exist not just in our waking life but in our subconscious as well.
There’s something deeply affirming about realizing that even when the world around me is dreamlike and surreal, some part of me still refuses to be helpless.
What It Says About the Mind
This ability isn’t a superpower, but it does reflect something interesting about the mind: its incredible capacity for awareness, even in sleep.
Metacognition—the ability to think about your own thinking—is at play here. And in my case, it doesn’t shut off when I dream. That awareness becomes a lifeline. A reminder. A quiet whisper to myself in the midst of chaos: “You don’t have to stay here. You can wake up.”
And I do.
In conclusion, I see that being able to wake myself up from a dream isn’t something I was taught. It came naturally, and maybe that’s why it still surprises people when I talk about it.
But maybe the most fascinating part isn’t the fact that I can do it. It’s the reason why I do it, and what that says about the relationship between memory, emotion, safety, and self-trust.
If our dreams are a mirror of the mind, then maybe mine is saying something simple and profound: You’re safe now. You get to choose.
Kaya Gravitter is a published journalist, poet, and novelist based in the Bay Area. Her work explores identity, generational trauma, spirituality, fashion, and memory. She is currently writing The Mansion, a memoir about legacy, loss, and the haunting echoes of rural family life in northern Wisconsin.
Follow her work:
Instagram: @kaya.gravitter
Website & contact: www.kayagravitter.com
