Our Secret Lives

 The first kiss of my life was when I was 17. My reaction was - Thank God it happened before I turned 18. That was close! After all, the concurrent teen race to have the two major first times still prevalent? I miss being able to dream small and waste time.

From pretending to cry in front of others to get what we want, to hiding our tears from everyone by crying in the shower or waiting till the world is asleep to let it out - we all grew up. Five years ago, my friends were my world. But now, while they are still important to me, they are not my topmost priority in my life anymore. 

It feels oddly satisfying to take care of myself. I can feel better when I want to, I can treat myself, I can do whatever I want. My life is far from normal. If I had to describe how my life is to anyone I'd say it's like being healthy and handicapped at the same time.

Rules and restrictions were never a scarcity in my life. I just wasn't aware when I was a kid but as I grew up, I saw more and more of the reality I was given. In this reality, being okay doesn't mean being okay - rather being able to handle and suppress our issues and not having a breakdown is considered being okay or something not worth being concerned about.

I often wonder- where I went wrong, or if I even went wrong anywhere at all. Trauma is normalised and they think talking solves everything.

But tell me, do you really believe that?

I'm the youngest person in my family. I'm an introvert and I literally observe everything and everyone in my environment. So, yes, I very well know what I talk about. I'm not saying I'm right about everything I say but I do know this much that I rarely say anything at all. So when I do say something, it's most likely for a reason.

I long for freedom but at the same time, I'm scared of it. Because my whole life, I've been told what to do and what not to do. I wish I was exaggerating but it's really every tiny thing I do every day. I'm almost never given a choice. My privacy is negligible and my autonomy is always questioned.

So, when I think of finally being free from my shackles, I feel ecstatic and terrified at the same time. This emotional bipolarity and inner conflicts have become second nature to me at this point. I deal with them the way I deal with brushing my teeth everyday - with muscle memory.

I feel afraid of what I long for because I haven't been taught how to experience them. I don't know what it's like to hang out with friends at a movie or parties without my parents in my shadow. I don't know what it's like to call up the person I love whenever I feel like or want to because I can be easily overheard at home. I don't know what it's like to travel alone or eat whatever I want or dress however I want, without thinking of the consequences or what people may think of me. 

Amidst all these chaotic thoughts, art helps me find solace. This is why my dreams and passions are so extremely important to me. To others, it might look silly why I care so much about art and writing, or why I get so impatient to show my work to others, or why I do what I do.

But this is the thing. I think we're all refugees running from our own crippling realities. So we might as well run happily, right?