Sometimes, I remember things about myself, and it almost feels like remembering a past life.
Because that isn't the same me anymore. But it was me. My past. And sometimes, when I remember her, I don't know what to feel. Because those were also the days when I experienced a kind of freedom I had never known before. I could do whatever I wanted. I never cared much about what people thought or how they judged me. Every minute of my life was decided by me. How I wanted to be. Where I wanted to go. What I wanted to wear. What I wanted to eat.
Everything was decided by me, and I never gave others permission to intrude. I was completely lost in an unknown world, exploring its colours through a beautiful age. I had a healthy body, but a very weak mind. Absolutely no balance! Depressed. Anxious. Trying to be happy most of the time by losing myself in whatever I did. But honestly? I had a blast. I travelled. I wandered. I got lost. And that is why it is so difficult to look back at that version of myself and see only darkness.
There was darkness. But there was also so much wonder. I still remember a scene from 2017. I was around twenty years old, walking alone through a tube station in Malaysia, trying to find my way to the Twin Towers. I remember the excitement. I remember coming out onto the streets, taking a turn, and suddenly seeing the towers. My joy in that moment was priceless. My eyes filled with tears. Not because I was sad, But because of pure joy and wonder.
I sat there simply looking at them, eating an ice cream. Then I walked through the streets. The lights. The people. The unfamiliar language. Everything was unknown to me. And I loved it. Just imagine. Twenty years old. Leaving my country and travelling to another one by myself. Young enough to be scared, perhaps. But free enough to explore. That feeling...I still want it again. I want to disappear into the unknown again.
Alone. A date with myself. Because all those days when I was alone, I feel like life taught me more amazing lessons than it does now, when I am constantly surrounded by people. Really, how beautiful is it to simply get lost with ourselves? A life that needed no explanation. No convincing. No asking. Just doing what the heart says. I am truly grateful to my father for giving me that freedom and supporting me financially back then, so that I could see at least a little bit of this world.
And sometimes I miss that person. That sense of individuality. That freedom.
Now, in some ways, I feel I have lost it. I want to revisit those chapters...but not as the person I was then. I want to revisit them with my current joyful mind and an even stronger body. If only someone gave me an opportunity to support me the way my father did back then, I think I would disappear into the unknown again. Or perhaps just give me an opportunity to work somewhere I love, earn enough to support myself, and disappear.
I would go. Because there is still a part of me that wants to wander. To get lost. To sit alone in an unfamiliar city and feel absolutely nothing except the wonder of being there. But life had planned something else for me too. Something beyond the wandering. Because life has its own course of action, doesn't it? And then there were my own stupid decisions, made through a naïve mind. Life slowly began giving me a weight that was too much for me to suddenly carry alone.
And somewhere along the way, I became tired. I became lost in a different way. Not lost in happiness. Not lost in wonder. But lost through sadness. Through betrayal. Through things I wasn't prepared to understand or carry at that age.
It hasn't been easy. Not even a little.
And when I remember that version of myself, the memories are not always beautiful... I remember opening my eyes after two days of continuous sleep and unconsciousness. I remember lying on a bed, weak and fragile. There was a cloth wrapped around my left wrist. My friends had treated my injured wrist while my body was recovering from all the unknown medicines I had swallowed, hoping to end myself once and for all. I remember one of my friends sitting beside me, holding my hand in tears.
He kept saying he was sorry that he wasn't there when I needed him the most.
I smiled. With a tear in my eye.
I wanted to move around a little, so we went up to the terrace. Looking at the city centre—the lights, the people walking around, we sat there in silence, sharing a cigarette. I didn't know whether to be happy that I was alive or feel worse for myself because I had to go through this cruel world all over again. At least, that's what I thought then. Everything felt so meaningless.
And yet, life continued.
I remember New Year's Eve in 2020. Standing near the Thames with my friend, waiting for the fireworks, Listening to A Sky Full of Stars. The lights. The river. The fireworks. I can never forget that moment either. It is strange how life can contain all of this. How one version of you can sit on a terrace wondering whether life is worth continuing... And another version of you can stand by a river, looking at fireworks, feeling something that words can never completely hold.
Perhaps that is why I don't know what to feel when I remember these glimpses.
Because I don't have those emotions within me anymore. That sadness is gone. That hatred is gone. This new me is full of love, happiness and joy. Excited to explore this life and know it to the fullest. But the body remembers! And sometimes, it silently trembles in an unknown language. I remember the horrors I had to fight. And win. And honestly, no matter which corner life has pushed me into—through all the highs and lows, I am proud of one thing. I have always tried to remain myself.
I have never been very good at wearing masks. At playing games. At pretending to be something I am not. Somehow, I still managed to make enemies wherever I went....!!
But I always had the courage to be myself.
To speak my heart. To be straight. And, most importantly, to choose myself. Again and again. Even when life became difficult. Even when I was struggling. Even when I had lost myself..... Somewhere within me, there was always a person trying to come back home to herself. And perhaps that is why who I am today is my own making. I had to rework myself. Almost engineer myself from scratch. I had to learn to see life not through sorrow, but with joy.
And it took a lot of work. Lots and lots of courage. And a willingness to change that came after a lot of love and motivation from my family. The way I treat myself is very different now, and I cannot allow others to treat me any less than the way I treat myself—not after everything I have been through, and not after everything it took to become who I am now. The person people experience today is the result. They weren't there during the process. They didn't see the darkness.They didn't see the rebuilding.They didn't see the hundreds of small decisions it took to become this person.
And so, now, as a person who has known this kind of independence, courage, wonder and love, I can never agree to someone's poor behaviour. I cannot tolerate it. Not even a little. Because I still choose myself first. Always. Perhaps that is why I strongly believe that if I am genuinely happy by myself, fully from within, only then can I truly keep the people around me happy too. But if I am sad, pretending to be happy and silently struggling through life, how can I truly be present for anyone?
All my attention goes towards surviving my own situations. Trying to distract myself. Trying to escape what I am feeling, and slowly, I become distant—not just from people, but from life itself. I understand that everyone has their own phases in life too. And honestly, I don't always know what I am becoming a part of in anyone else's life. I respect everyone's boundaries, emotions and triggers. I know how nasty they can be...
But I hope, no one expect me to carry them across. Because everyone has to deal with their shit by themselves without dumping on others, just like I had to deal with mine. A little support will always be there! But we have to take those steps by ourselves willingly with total acceptance of who we are in those phases! Just like I am still dealing with mine. I can walk beside you. I can listen. I can love you. I can support you.
But I cannot abandon myself while trying to save you. Not anymore. And I hope that, in return, you respect my boundaries too. Perhaps that is what I have learned after all these years. I don't want to go back to being that person, But I don't want to completely leave her behind either. She was lost. She was hurting. She had a weak mind and a strong desire to escape. But she was also brave enough to walk alone through unfamiliar cities.
Brave enough to cross borders. Brave enough to get lost. She knew how to find wonder in a place she had never seen before. And somewhere between the person I used to be and the person I am now, I think there is another journey waiting for me. This time, perhaps, I can get lost again. But not because I want to escape life.
Because I finally want to live it.
