Thoughts on months into 23.

The older I get, the more past there is to dig into and drown in. I try to tell myself to not be so nostalgic but the current is too strong and I slip into the quicksand of childhood memories.

If my life was a Hollywood movie, this would be the point  where I would finally get 'closure'. I would sink deep into the quicksand, wrestle with the turbulent undergrowth and then a few days later, I'd fly out of it a new woman. The final scene of the movie would be me with an arm outstretched like superman, reaching into my 'bright' and 'hopeful' future. The sun is shining and there's a happy song playing in the background, ready for the credits to roll and for the viewers to leave the cinema in a state of awe. The women are bawling as their boyfriends and husbands hand over tissues after tissue. "That was amazing, s-s-she was so a-a-ama-zing," they blubber as they leave.

But my life is not a typical Hollywood movie. I don't have closure. I am not sunk in the quicksand of nostalgia and childhood memories. Instead, I bob up and down like a fish. There are some moments where I feel like I am drowning and there are other moments where I am floating above the sand, confident that I will be that stereotypical romantic heroine.

I'm not entirely sure this analogy has been useful but I think it conveys this sense of limbo that I feel like I am in. I find it too difficult to shut off the past and to move on. What does 'moving on' even mean? How do I forget what has happened and learn to live my life because years have passed and there are things which I feel I should understand by now and I don't. I've noticed that over the last few years, as I have moved into the world of the 'adult' (that strange, alien state of being), that my mind has entered this place of extreme anxiety. All of a sudden, I feel like there is this tension between my true self, the child, and the self that grows up into a fully fledged person. I am too scared to cross that threshold and so I sabotage anything which would take me there. I know that I can still be me and be an adult at the same time but I think that my mind has made a mental note to not even attempt to consider my life as an adult. I work 9-5 and have a 'proper' job but besides that, I don't have any sense of responsibility. I am too comfortable by myself. I don't know if my mind will change this or not. Part of me thinks, f*** it. My mind can take its time. But another part of me thinks, what if my mind realises the truth too late.

In the indie (pretentious) movie of my life which stars someone beautiful and intense like Michelle Williams, I learn how to swim. The protagonist realises that she will not ever live solely above or below the quicksand. She accepts that the quicksand is a permanent fixture in her life but she does not accept that it is unbeatable; so she learns to swim. And at the end of the film, that's the last scene.

She is swimming.

She doesn't know whether she is swimming to something good or bad but she powers through anyway. And there is no music playing in the credits. There is just the sound of the water as she cuts through it with her strong strokes. Forward, breathe, forward, breather, forward breathe. The water, fluid and powerful, is the last sound we hear before the film cuts to black and the credits finally roll.

I like this version better. 

The (not so) generic update blog.

For my future self:

You've changed since this time last year; to be more precise, you haven't changed much at all. It's a strange phenomenon and I'm not quite sure it's a solely "millenial" experience but in the blog/vlog/media sphere it is almost a given that when you see the word UPDATE anywhere you will watch/read about/ listen to the following:

• someone telling you that things have been tough lately
• they are on the mend
• everything will be fine.

When I was younger, it was an insult to be told that you had changed. It was honestly the worst thing you could be called. I remember how I would physically recoil from the accusation that I had changed. It was a visceral and physical reaction to a word which was a plague; the mere mention of it had me thinking I was tainted with a disease. I imagine that this is to do with the naiive way in which you think that things stay the same forever. There is a lot of complexity you could unpack from that but for me in this moment, the reason that I'm remembering that is because as I'm growing older, there are changes that are happening and I can sense that somethings are shifting in my universe. But at the same time, things are stagnant. Really stagnant. 

This time last year, I was really sad. Deeply and profoundly sad. I won't forget that moment I had where I just needed to see the 'Seagram Murals' at the Tate. I have no idea why but they just seemed, at the time, like something I had to see. I will go back there before I start school again, to see if they evoke something else.

Reflecting back on last year, I was hurt. I was lonely. I still am those things but I have a bit more certainty than I did last year. Also, I feel like I cried so much last summer and this past year in general that my body has almost given all of it up. I feel the same things but just not as acutely. What worries me though about my future, is that my fear about pursuing the things that I want will get in the way of me actually achieving them. Getting older, there is an inevitability that follows you. Multiple 'inevitabilities' if you will. Death. Ageing. And they're the minor ones. 

I can't express entirely what I mean but it's this feeling that there are certain questions that I need to ask myself about how I want to move forward in my life (what a horrible cliche). However, these questions are questions whose answers I have maintained for years. Surely my answers should be changing. Or I should at least be more open to changing them? Instead, even when my hopes are pointing in a particular direction, my answers are stagnant. Again, it's this desire to give in to my fear rather than overcome it.

Eurgghhhhh. I have spontaneously word vomited here but anyway, to end my (not so) generic update blog-

• 
  
• things have been tough this past year
• they are not entirely on the mend
• things will probably be ok but I have a feeling there is more suckiness to come.

x

T

Adrift

As you get older, your world becomes bigger.
I remember when I was younger I felt things with urgency. I never acted out because of this but when I felt something I was adamant in my feeling of it. When I was hurt, I felt it with every fibre of my being.

I am still like this now but I am able to make sense of things in a different way.

Your world is too small when you're young. There are so many lessons to learn and so many things to experience. And one of the hardest lessons is that people leave. People move on. It is inevitable.

If I look back to being in primary, I think that's one of the biggest lessons I learned without realising. That was the first time I was uprooted. I mean sure we moved houses when we young but it was nothing like realising that I wouldn't really see my primary friends again. I loved primary. I had an amazing time there. Whenever I think back to it I always think about how that was where I was happiest.

I'm thinking about this because I've just been scrolling through the twitter feeds of old friends. There are people who I haven't spoken to for 10 years. I haven't physically seen or spoken to them in 10 years. 10 years. These were people who I cared about deeply and now they have all moved on in their lives and I don't know who they are anymore. They are strangers. It makes me sad because I'm sitting here thinking about them and I wonder if they think of me?

Are we all just destined to make our friends only to move on from them?

I'm at a point in my life now where I have my uni friends, school friends and friends from various groups I belong to. But it is hard to keep track of everyone. And I don't have a person. I don't have that one person who is my closest, bestest bestest friend. I think this is what makes it worse. It makes me focus on everyone I'm not in contact with anymore.


So to all my primary friends, you guys were the best. I hope you are all swell and in great places. I send you love and warm wishes.

Love,

T

x

What role are you playing?

I was thinking yesterday about roles and how we are all playing one or another.

It began because over this past year, I have developed the firm belief that becoming a teacher is acting out a particular persona. It is yet another role on the earthly stage of life. I have spoken before on my blog about how teaching = acting. But yesterday I realised that we are all playing different roles.

As a teacher, when I step in front of the pupils, they see me as a teacher. They see me as a dispenser of knowledge, a member of the school staff. They don't see me as a human being. Not straight away. My uncle is a doctor and it occurred to me that where I see him as a human, a family member, his patients see him as the person who is going to get them medically. If we saw people who we come across in our daily routines, as humans and not as the role that they are playing, then the world would stop. We'd accept that our food arrived late to our table because the chef was having a bad day. We wouldn't hate politicians as much because they are imperfect like us. We would not mind if that store does not have our size because the salesperson is having a hard time right now and can't afford to buy clothes. We would pay more for services because we would truly realise that the person who is providing the service needs to survive like we do. We would be empathetic and it would make us more understanding but I wonder, would things get done. Would we become too complacent? Does the pressure of fulfilling our roles just mean that we are collectively playing our part? Is this how we survive?

Part of me is realising that it is through these roles that we are productive. If pupils saw me as their equal, someone who was in pain like they are, they might find it harder to respect me as their teacher. It may seem narrow-minded but I think that throughout this year I have been trying to figure out a new persona for myself that is different from my usual 'nice' one. I can't be 'nice', 'understanding' and empathetic' all the time. Sometimes, I need to demand respect- or I will be forever trying to get kids to give in h/w and they will forever be giving me excuses. Empathy needs to come with expectation. I am not just me anymore. I am me the person and me the teacher.

As I write this, I realise how it is restrictive and draining. What if you don't like the role that you are playing? What if the role stops people from seeing who you are? Maybe kids need to see their teacher as human in order to respect them. It's a difficult question.

I have no answer for this- just pondering...

I'm not bitter- but I probably sound it.

Over the last few years, a significant number of my friends from secondary have married. It's confusing for a number of reasons.

Firstly- what on earth ?????????????????????????????????????

I am 22 right now. 22.

22.

I can't even contemplate being a full-time teacher and my classmates are making concrete life choices. One friend got married at around 17/18 and already has a kid. How do you get there?

How does a person get there? 

It becomes more complicated when I think about the people they were when we were 16. There was pain and angst- so much angst. 

We were so young. 

These girls are married now, settled, but just a few years ago they were confused and I was the one who had it together. I'm not saying that I don't have it together right now or that I begrudge them their happiness, but I would never have predicted that they would be married and having families now. Some of them never went to uni. They didn't follow a 'path' or have any direction for their lives and now they are starting one of the biggest journeys that could be embarked upon. 

Everytime that I get a message from someone now about an engagement, I am so pleased and genuinely overjoyed for them, but at the same time it terrifies me. I'm not bitter. I know I sound it, but I am not jealous. 

I am happy with the choices I have made this far. It just makes me think about how much we really cannot predict the future. I have absolutely no idea about how my life is going to pan out. There's this moment in Gilmore Girls where Rory is worrying about getting into college or getting a job (I can't remember which) and Lorelai tells her that she's had it easy so far, everything that she has wanted or gone for, she has gotten. That moment is so real for me. It made me think that I had always done well in school. Alhamdulillah! I know I worked hard but it is a terrifying thought to really come face to face with your own fallibility. It's the truth. And that is hard to internalise. For me, I think there is a part of me which thinks, I have pursued academia, and everything that I could have expected to get, I achieved- is this it now?

I imagine sometimes that I might bump into an old teacher and they'll ask what I'm up to. They'll probably be happy for me, excited but mostly, they will think I always knew that she'd be the one to become a teacher. I can't imagine me surprising anyone. But there will be the inevitable question- what is everyone else up to? And I know that this would be the point where I might say, so and so is married, so and so is engaged, so and so has a kid... Then comes the open mouthed what! wow MashaAllah.

What about you? When are you getting married?


(sigh)


It is hard to grow up when your head isn't moving at the same pace as time and biology.

It is worse when everyone else is growing up and maturing in a way other than getting their grades.

It's not enough anymore to be the 'good kid'.

It's not enough to be the 'one who was prefect and head girl'.

It's another ballpark altogether now-

and I am resisting but I can feel it starting to chafe. I know that a time is going to come when the new version of 'growing up' will be demanded of me and I am not ready. I don't know if I ever will be.

Gosh it sucks.

Cosmos

I'm not quite sure if I am trying to find you
to forget you
to remember you
or to be indifferent.

It's been so long that I cannot tell the difference.

If I was brave I would tell you-

I make too many comparisons.
I am scared of admitting what I really want.
I am hiding from the world and from myself and
no one is the better for it.

If I was brave I would tell me-

You are not real anymore.
People move on.

We are planets.

Orbiting around each other
Some of us stay close together
And some of us were only meant to be
passing by.

Cyclical--

Yesterday, I walked into a charity shop looking for a new puzzle but I didn't find one with a good enough picture; they were all lacklustre images of dreary village roads and goofy childish pictures. I was in and out in five minutes. On my way out, I walked past the racks of old clothes and something caught my eye. I did that thing that you see in the movies where a character walks back and does a double take. It was a scarf. A red and purple scarf with a strand of glittery thread woven in. It looked exactly like a scarf I used to wear. I couldn't remember if I had ever donated that scarf but here in this moment, in this charity shop, it stared at me. I was confronted all of a sudden with the realisation that life goes on. Literally. This scarf, whether or not it was mine, moved on. Someone else will see it and think that they could make a life with it. They'll buy it and instantly, it has a new life. It's silly I know but I felt sad.

It felt like a part of me was gone and I hadn't realised it.

I suppose it reveals our biggest insecurities as people-- life continues regardless. Regardless of our happiness. Regardless of our sadness. Life and sadness and hope and joy and our dreams and death are all intertwined. We win some, we lose some and most of the time, we miss things. Seeing that scarf made me realise that I didn't have it anymore. That it wasn't mine. Which means that there are other things that are not mine.

There are other things which I don't have any longer. 

Things to tell my younger self

Keep reading. Don't use school as an excuse to stop. It may take time away but you are organised. You can fit it in. The best part of reading is learning something new. Don't lose that.

Keep writing. Yes, most of what you write is terrible. But why is that so bad? Keep trying. Keep doing. Keep on.

It's okay to have an opinion. Some things swim in a grey area. Some things are black or white. If it's the latter, it's okay to choose. Being compassionate and open is good, but don't let that stop you from being definitive and exact in your expectations and principles.

Some people will not like you. This is life. Deal with it.

It's okay to be vulnerable. Try it now please, it'll make it easier for future you.... Future you is struggling a bit with this. 

Be kind. Be honest. Be open. This is important to you. 

Things get better..... They get worse too. But you get better at it. 

It's good to be witty. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. 

Be creative. No project is stupid. Follow through and completing it will be enough. Don't worry so much about whether it's good or not. Fear of failure is a poor excuse. You can do it. I believe in you.

"That moment"

It's been a tough few days.

Yesterday, I had a conversation with someone and I feel like it has changed everything.

It has changed the way I see myself with respect to others.

It has made me angry, hurt and sad all at once.

It has made me feel like there is no going back.

There are certain things said, things done and conversations had, that you can't return from. That's what I've experienced. I feel like my world has changed.

I don't like it. I don't like not being in control of my life. It's debilitating and painful.

I am in one of those moments which I think I'm going to remember as "that moment". You know, that feeling when you are experiencing something epic, life-changing, heart-wrenching, moving.... anything big, really..... and then you recall this memory that you randomly have of something once insignificant but now so essential. The past few days, the process of me writing this blog post, they will both be something I look back on. I will be thinking one of three things:

You didn't know it then, but things were going to get a lot worse. 

You didn't know it then, but things were just about to get better.

Nothing has changed.


I don't know which one it'll be. I don't know which one I want it to be. All I know, is that right now, I feel like the earth beneath me isn't as steady, and I'm slowly losing my balance.


Here's to not falling over.


T

x=

Not so bad after all...

I set my alarm for 10:45 but by 10:30 I was awake. My stomach had butterflies the minute I saw the date and time and I just wanted to sleep. I always feel like if I sleep, while my eyes are closed I won't worry. Of course..... I am always wrong.

I stumbled out of bed and blundered along. Showered, dressed, had breakfast and met my friend at Liverpool Street Station. I waited near Costa and staring towards the ticket barriers, watching to see if the train had come, it occurred to me that everything had become a metaphor. I kept looking at doorways and exit signs as signals for beginnings and endings.

I didn't want to go through with graduation. 

In fact, I kept telling my friend as we walked to the hall, that we could just turn back. When we entered the hall, I panicked inwardly. I saw people in gowns everywhere. Families. Lots of cameras. Lots of posing. Lots of people smiling. What surprised me most of all, was how emotional I felt. 

It's weird because I'd seen pictures on Facebook and Twitter of other departments' graduation ceremonies and I knew what the gowns looked like. But to see a swarm of graduating students and to recognise that I was one of them, to be able to insert and position myself among all these other students, was scary and emotional- in a good way. I thought that I'd be too nervous to feel anything else but actually, the ceremony was heart-warming. There was a sense of humour and tenderness in the presentations. There was a strong feeling of camaraderie, even though I didn't know most of the people personally. I was struck by this intense realisation that I was a part of everyone else's experiences, just like they were a part of mine. I was and have been, so worried about feeling distanced from graduating, but actually, I think I just needed to realise that actually, I knew more people that I thought. I had made more connections than I thought. And I was less nervous than I thought. So many of my classmates came to say hi to myself and my friends. It was touching to be embraced, literally (and I'm not even a hugging person), by people who were feeling joyful and wanted to share their glee.

Seeing my family too, when they came to collect their tickets, made me realise that this was a special occasion. For all that I was worried and anxious about, I was right to go. I would have definitely regretted it had I stayed away. 

I just feel like I faced something today. Not a fear as such, but something overwhelming.

Looking back on it, I think the reason I found graduation so stressful was because I didn't want to deal with the broader picture. I am now a graduate. I am a degree holder. I have a certificate that says it all. I don't feel any different, but to the world, I am a different person. Or at least, I have a new side of myself to embrace.

It's not been an easy ride so far, and I don't think it's going to get easier. But I'm learning to embrace the curve balls and see where they take me.


T

*FYI- Turns out graduation doesn't suck after all. In fact, I highly recommend it.