i stopped writing for years because i was afraid.
i was afraid of being myself and that somehow that's not good enough.
for years, i went through so many things
and i kept thinking "i should write this down, this is crazy, stupid, harrowing, interesting..."
and so on...
but i... didn't
and it's such a shame
because my life has been a roller coaster ride
it's been amazing, breathtaking, with i thought i might die kind of feeling
and i think when i am old and grey
and time has poked holes into my memory
maybe it would be nice to read
about how i went through these changes
but i was haunted with the restless feeling that i should "grow up"
that it's childish to keep writing about feelings
i thought i should stop feeling so much and start living
that i am not good enough
it took me years to see that i was being an asshole to myself
these things that i am telling myself
were things that i wouldn't say to anyone i know
and finally in 2020-2021 i learned how to be kinder to myself
to allow myself to fuck up
to forgive myself for not living up to whatever impossible standards that i had set for myself
i was really setting myself up to fail
and in that mindset, growth was... difficult
it took me years to learn that life is made up of thoughts, feelings and ups and down
and success and failures
and less than stellar moments that you'll never be proud of
and i might escape from this "suffering" once in a while
when i sit down and and observe
when i close my eyes and "be"
but most times i'm in a flux of thoughts
and when i am working
becoming part of the cog, the machinery of society
that's when my "suffering" is at the peak
and not allowing myself to fully process how i felt
that was not the right way to go
not the life i wanted to live
life is so much more than making a living
it's complex and simple and a paradox of many things
so yes
i thought i should go out there, hustle
live the life of that seen that, been there city woman
that i used to look at with awe and envy
and i tried, but ignoring the most important person in the world to me i.e. myself
was a mistake
I was left broken in need of repair and i didn't even know what went wrong or where to start.
and to be honest i was busy being in a relationship...
the whole thing hit me like a brick to the head.
looking back now i know i wasn't ready for it
though to be fair to my partner, although he was a year older than me
and when we met he already worked a real job while i was still struggling to finish my masters
he was not more than just a kid too
and together we made things up as we went
we learned how to love and hate and fight and make up and we learned to choose to stay
i fell in and out of love multiple times...
and when the heat of the first flames die...
we had to plant a seed in the ashes of it...
and we learned to grow with each other and to compromise and accept that some things are out of our control...
but that's just my side of it
a story of "we" rather than "me"
and honestly a story for another day
today i just want to explain a little but of why i stopped writing, and those are the reasons why.
and why i'm starting again now.
i'm starting again because i've always wanted to have a record of my life somewhere in the world.
i might not be a larger than life character...
but i still think that everyone's life is unique, including mine
and it's always worth writing about.
i want to have something to look back to when i am 60...
something to read when i am old and the memories are faded to grey
something to point to myself
a simple legacy
so this is going to be a compilation of lessons, thoughts, feelings, love, dukka, sadness, happiness, life, religion, music, politics, plants, movies, sisters, journeys, living, becoming, god, philosophy, culture, hometowns, disappointment, peace, growing older, sickness, healing, pain, old wounds, friendship, changing, literature, excitement, adventures, imagination, stories, poems...
you know... like old times
you know... like old times
but now
written from the point of view of Tiqa in her 30s
