Safe spaces and train stations.

Shuttling through London, deep underground, I know that others find it stuffy, hot and uncomfortable. For me though, it's home. 

I went into the city today, and as the train pulled into the station, I saw the sign outside the tube window wipe into view- Chancery Lane. I always find it amazing that there are these stations dotted around London, signifying a place and yet we are always whooshing past them. I have gone past so many stations on the central line and yet I have never seen most of them. Most stations on the London Underground Map we won't ever see above the miles of concrete we travel through when commuting in London. But there are some stations which we know. Which I know. Stations like the one near where I live. But also stations which I have grown to live in and live with.

When I first started uni, it felt strange. For anyone who has ventured into the city, you will understand. It's scary and intimidating. There are people everywhere rushing places. I always worry that I am inconveniencing someone if I walk too slow or stop randomly in the street, so navigating my way around uni was hard for me. I felt like everyone else knew this strange and new environment whilst I relied on other people's directions to places to eat and the library and where the nearest stationers was. Today, as I saw the sign staring at me, I remembered my feelings of discomfort and being out of place when I first used the station. My university library is off Chancery Lane. I can still feel that sense of everyone looking at me and being under surveillance almost, as I walked out of the station and to the library. I have this need almost, in those situations, to remind myself that I am a smart, independent woman. I think it's my defence-mechanism. I would walk past people, knowing that most of them would make certain assumptions about me, not even considering that I was a university student. As a young, female Muslim, I'm sure I experienced what many others were feeling in similar situations. Over time, although the discomfort lingered, I began to feel a sense of place. Like the bankers and lawyers in their pinstripe suits and briefcases, walking down Fleet Street, I started to feel like London was my city, my turf.(I know, it's childish!).

That was the feeling I had today. I never got off the train at Chancery Lane, but I felt a connection to it. More and more I am realising that there are certain elements of leaving uni that I will miss. The city, or the small corners I have inhabited- Russell Square, Holborn, Chancery Lane, The Strand- are like my second home. I have a favourite lunch place. I have a particular route I use. I know which buses can take me where, without looking at the map at the bus stop. I'm not a tourist anymore. The area isn't made up of random spots on a tube map anymore. These places are now my home.

I think that's why I love the London Underground so much. I always find myself experiencing these profound realisations. Like today, I saw this random, bookish-looking, middle-aged man with glasses and he reminded me of one of my seminar leaders. Then I thought to myself- this man could be a lecturer. Of course, he could have any other profession, and most likely I am projecting, but I can't discount my theory. Then there is the reality that at some point in time, I may have travelled on a train, with someone I know in another carriage. Maybe I have sat on a train with someone I haven't met yet. The possibilities are endless. Everyone is a stranger and yet so familiar. 

Despite what people say about the tube being full of ghastly office workers, builders and bankers, I always find myself feeling relaxed and isolated, as if I am in a safe place.

Being on the train today reminded me of that feeling. And it felt good.

T

Self-Image 2015

I am:

A daughter

A grand-daughter

A cousin

A neice

A sister

A friend

A graduate

A writer

A worrier

A teacher

A student

Sometimes I am confident, but mostly I'm not.

I know I am not alone, but I don't often feel that way.

I am constantly worrying about the future.

I am a good friend, but also a terrible one.

I have read a lot, but not enough.

I would like to be more politically aware but politics makes me anxious. I know that this is a cop-out, but it's how I feel.

I would like to be more present. Instead, I am nostalgic. Always.

I know that other people think I have achieved a lot, but I am slowly learning that I need to internalise this for myself.

I am content, yet constantly yearning. 

Despite all my complaints, I know that I am privileged.

*inspired by the self-image tag that I've seen floating around YouTube. I'm not sure who started it, but it's a fantastic idea.

Haphazard

Today I mostly lounged around the house. I was home alone with my two brothers (which is as close to being alone as actually being alone). They spent most of the day watching TV or Minecraft videos. Side note- I really don't get Minecraft, it just *whooooosh* goes over my head. 

I spent the day with Netflix, doodling, getting a bit (a tiny bit) of some work done. I cooked dinner and did a bit of cleaning. I caught up on my YouTube subscriptions. And now somehow it's 22:54 and I'm writing this crappy post. Not much to say today. 

Here are some of my thoughts from yesterday that I recorded on my notepad on my phone.

3:42am

How do I have a degree? I never even got to the end of Crime and Punishment.

4:03am

I've been trying to connect my uni email account to my phone mail. I have just realised that I doesn't matter anymore.

21:33pm

I feel like keeping a diary on behalf of someone else- maybe a fictional character- the way that it happens in "Jill". (That's the book I'm reading at the moment)

Also, randomly I had this thought. I'm a big Sherlock Holmes fan and I wondered to myself, if I was to meet him, what would he deduce or not deduce about me? It's an interesting question to ask about oneself, right?

T

Stop what you're doing, I have a thought-

A lot of us would say- "only do something if you want to", "don't do anything unless it's what you want", "is that what you want though?"- or something along those lines. This often applies to when we discuss body-image and weight. 

I watched a video just now, in which Maddie discusses exercising for herself. It's a great message and a completely relevant and apt one. But it made me wonder, when a person decides to lose weight or get fit, is it always easy to separate doing it for yourself and doing it for others? 

I would love to get fit right now, and exercise. I would definitely be doing it for myself. But I would also be doing it so that I can feel comfortable in my body, rather than feeling uncomfortable. And that discomfort is surely just a response to other people's views or perceptions of bodies and how bodies should look. Then there is the real, undeniable fact that as humans, our bodies change shape as we grow older. If we get bigger or smaller, is that merely growth and a coming into our adult or newer selves, or should we try to maintain our past shape or size? What if you were healthier when you were smaller/ bigger? 

It seems to me that the line is more blurred than it might seem, especially when it comes to our bodies. I'm not sure if I was to exercise and lose weight that it would be entirely to make myself feel better. A part of me says that it would be so that I could look at people and feel confident about my body. 

Arghhhhhhhhh.

Journal. Entry 1.

Isn't it weird how we stop talking to people? I find it so strange that there are people who I've grown up and gone through huge life-changing things with, who then move on and become other people, other versions of themselves. I've been thinking about this recently. As it's graduation season, I've seen photos of old friends with their cap and gown and I've been realising how estranged I have become from so many people- not in an unkind or deliberate way, but in a human, 'that's life' kind of way. It's made me explore the nature of human relationships and how we share experiences with one another. There are people who have been a part of my life, and I have been a part of theirs. The unsettling part for me has been seeing people who I knew at a certain stage of their life, who have grown up and entered into a new phase, without me being there. It's not a jealous or envious perspective. Rather, it's the realisation of the instability and frailty of human relationships. Does that make sense? It's realising that I may bump into a once close friend, person A, on the street, they will be with a new friend, person B, and when we catch up, person B will not know who I am and what I've been through with person A. It's an awkwardness, a discomfort. It's accepting that relationships are always fleeting. How do you know, how on earth are you supposed to determine that a friendship you have will last and continue?

I know that this is how life works. People forge relationships and some survive while others fizzle out. 

I've realised as I've gotten older that most people around me have small groups of friends. I think, with age, everyone seems to have less tolerance for people who they aren't deeply connected to. It's one of the qualities I wish I had. While everyone seems to be cultivating long-lasting and intimate friendships, I've sort of kept myself behind. It's not because I think I'm better than that. It's simply because I'm uncapable of it. I don't know how to build that type of friendship with someone. 

I know friends who message each other all the time and constantly throughout the day. I'm completely the opposite. The friends I have from school, I see rarely. I have a close friend who I haven't seen in probably a year. We may occasionally interact over twitter or send each other a brief Whatsapp message, but I don't keep in regular contact with her. I don't know what's wrong with me. I hate texting. If I get a message, I'll deliberately reply later instead of immediately, just so that the person doesn't think I'm free to keep a conversation going. Sometimes I will receive a message and I'll have the time to respond but I'll end up over-thinking the message and won't reply until the next day. It's so silly of me, I know, and yet that is who I am. I hate speaking to people by text or even having conversations on the phone. I always feel paranoid about people not being interested in what I have to say, and if that's not the issue then I feel anxious about when the appropriate time to end the conversation is. Recently, a good friend of mine (I have no best friends- not sure if that's a good thing anymore) called me up and she asked me if I was free to talk because she knew that I didn't like speaking on the phone. Surprisingly, that phone call didn't give me any anxiety. It was nice. It was a glimpse into a type of interaction that previously I shied away from. That being said, I don't think I could initiate a phone call myself. It would be so unlike me, my friends would think something had gone wrong. Also, I would be paranoid (see the theme here?) about whether or not they were speaking to me because they wanted to or they felt they had to.

I should mention here that a friend messaged me a minute or so ago, and I already felt myself getting nervous. I haven't looked at the message because I don't want to respond straight away. It's so silly. I don't know why I'm like this! 

Anyway, I seem to have digressed. I was talking about long-lost friends/ acquaintances. What do you call them- people who you were once close with, who are now strangers? There should be a name for them. 

I have many friends. I have groups of friends who I meet at random moments, every so often. I have a group of uni friends and work friends. 

But I have yet to have a friend who I will text every day, see every week or tell everything too. 

I'm not sure if that's normal or not. 

But I think that may be why I'm blogging and not texting people back. 

T

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.

Reluctantly

I write this post reluctantly. 

I feel like something is lodged deep inside me. Almost like something is wedged in between my organs, keeping everything held tightly together, albeit temporarily. I have been feeling anxious throughout the day. It's been bubbling under the surface but every so often I feel like there's a jolt and that thing, that unidentifiable thing which is keeping everything together, feels as if it's shifted slightly. It makes me feel queasy and unsettled, like I need to take in deep breaths or vomit or cry. 

Then I'll force myself to think about something else and the anxiety becomes a gentle simmer. 

Writing this post reminds me of what awaits me in mere hours. 

Whenever I'm nervous I tell myself that this time tomorrow, it'll all be over. I'm telling myself that now and even though from past experience I know that things are never as bad as I anticipate, something always niggles at me. Something tells me that there is still the possibility of something going wrong.

Life just seems to be following this very pattern. So many things have the potential to go wrong. It's a terrifying thought. I just pray that there are few occurences of this and that if all hell breaks loose I am able to keep moving. 

Graduation sucks.

T