How do you forgive somebody who broke you? This question has been on my mind for the last year. I am in the middle of another upheaval, this one initiated by my own hand. My need for a change came to a head during a therapy session where I said to my therapist ” I am comfortable in Norway; I have never been comfortable at a place before but it feels like I am just waiting until I die”. She smiled and replied “You are a little young to wait for death, you need to live”.
So I have been living! I went through a recruitment process and received a job offer in Berlin, Germany. The offer sent me into a panic spiral but one by one, my village came through. Panicked about starting afresh in a new city by my lonesome? The BFF offered to move with me. Leaving my plants behind? I found a relocation agent to drive them the 12 hours. Worried about my Drammen apartment? Another friend recommended a rental agency to manage it while I am away. A place to live in Berlin? A new friend living in Berlin went to view the perfect flat and I signed the lease. The biggest challenge was my Norwegian citizenship application and the approval came through the very day I tendered in my resignation, exactly three hours after I sent the resignation email.
All these activities have been conducted during the raging pandemic that is cover-19 with shut borders and impending recession. I remain grateful and hopeful for the future so I am trying to forgive, bringing me back to the first question. How do I forgive the person who broke me enough to look for any way out of my current job?
“personality could be changed, with some effort though”. With these words, my boss of 2 years broke my heart in March 2019. The hurt went so deep especially as I had trusted her to provide feedback directly related to my work. Before our annual review, I had thought that we were doing well, despite our two disparate personalities. That discussion put that to bed and even though she apologised the next working day, the damage run too deep. I spent the whole weekend crying, it still hurts when I remember. She triggered my insecurities surrounding my introversion compared to the predominant extraversion within the team.
Added to that was the discovery that I was making 20% less than other comparable colleagues. I knew there was an immigrant tax but the sheer value of it took my breath away and I was adrift.
With time, the hurt turned to resentment, this impenetrable murky weight in my stomach. I went to therapy, exercised, talked but nothing worked so I intensified by hunt for an escape which I found.
I remain beyond grateful and joyful to have escaped but I know that she is not a bad person, a mantra which I repeated to myself for the past year. Perhaps thoughtless and careless with her words, but not malicious; at least that is my hope and I want to be able to remember her without the accompanying hurt. So far, I think I am failing. I know things take time and still I wish my heart would work a little faster.
I want a full, glorious life. One filled with laughter, kindness and joy. A life with meaningful work which does not exhaust my ability to create joy in other areas. One filled with adventure, dance and music. 2020 seems to hold that promise and I will hold onto it for as long as I can. I am grateful today and pray that this heart of gratitude carries me through these uncertain times.
Netflix dropped the third season of 3%, their post apocalyptic thriller right when I needed a diversion from my latest depressive episode. While I was let down by the second season, this latest one delivered rich, multilayered characterisations and asked questions on revolutions and how to survive them.
Take Michele, who I must confess, is not my favourite. She chose to create an enclave on the innland as a solution to the exclusionary haven that is the offshore. In so doing, she thought she could fight against the status quo only to see her solution become another tool in the arsenal of exclusion.
Joana, my favourite, is fully militant and focused on reducing the offshore to the same conditions as the innland through military action. As gifted as she is, however, she is limited by her dogged stubbornness on only one course of action and haunted by her traumas.
I was unsure about Elisa in the beginning but in the end, she became a fave when she chose to stay innland so that she could be what she was, a healer. She, to me, defines the ones who just want to save the world and are therefore hurt by the cruelty of what could be a personal paradise. Her characterisation and motivations showcase strength even in her indecision and this, is a solace in a world that pushes for decisiveness over a patient examination of alternatives with varying consequences.
So long as there exists a paradise for the privileged, there must be blood underneath. That is the defining meaning of the 3%. This system strips the humanity from both the oppressor and the oppressed. While the question remains as to what happens to the world if the offshore is no more, it is evident that there is no winning by upholding the status quo either by establishing conclaves in the innland or peaceful transition. It is perfectly summed up by Michele: ” That is the flaw of the process. That we have to choose and we are human”.
I have been away from this space for nearly 2 years. While there is some shame in being away for so long, most of the time has been fruitful. I tried therapy again in late 2017 and it took this time, making 2018 and 2019 much brighter. I became a home owner; I am the proud owner of a 25 year mortgage in a foreign and wintry land.
The years have been good to me. I have a home that I love, filled with things which give me joy. So many plants, current count of over 20 and growing. There have been some hurdles along the way, a dog attack in Dhaka, a faint in Nepal and a breakdown at work but I am happy on the whole.
Which makes it even odder that I am beginning to feel stagnant. “What next?” is the question keeping me awake. I yearn to be more creative, pursuing my own passions. I miss writing and I believe that my spirit yearns to be let free via this medium and others. Did I mention my plants?
I also think about the baby I want in 3 years with whom I shall travel the world. All of these keep me grounded and wanting to remain alive. Without these dreams, my faith, friends and my therapist, I am afraid I shall drown.
If a single step is what it takes to begin anew, I commit to take at least one each week. One serious look at the job sites, one written piece per week and at least one beautiful moment which leaves me breathless with joy.
I shall find my way back to myself, with love, care and gentleness.
Compared to the year before, 2017 has been one of slow unfurling of my innermost conflicts, insecurities and repressed emotions. All the trauma i had endured pre-2016 were let out in the light that year; as such I regarded 2017 as the year of healing. As written by the poet, Ijeoma, healing comes in waves and so I had to ride the waves in addition to the other changes going on in the world. There were many moments when I lost hope and sight of who I am, I am unsure if I have fully recovered both at this moment. My therapist promises me that it gets better and I do feel better but I no longer trust myself and that is what hurts the most of all.
I realised somewhere during the year that I am deeply afraid of being the hero and villain of my own story so took to questioning my intuition and recollections, leaving me an anxious jumbled up mess. In addition to these internal conflicts, there were changes at work leading to the exit of my old team. Those hit hard, so hard that I cried for two weeks at the drop of a pin, thereby making me feel even more insecure. I know that I need to be gentle with me but then there is the fear of going soft. Who would advocate for me if I went soft? The only constant in my life has been me thus far and everybody is busy with their own rigmarole.
Nevertheless, I am grateful for the ride that has been 2017. I fell deeply in like and was not devastated when it ended for the first time in my life. The world did not end, and I believe I am strong enough to try for something more next year. The experience reminded me what it felt like to like someone and look forward to communicating with them. I loved that openness and the joy and hope 2018 presents another such opportunity.
I am also grateful for finally opening up to my therapist about my real state of mind despite my internal debate as to my actual state of mind. Validation from a professional, while nerveracking is little compared to the relief knowing that I am not making everything up. The tears shed in her office have been worth the comfort.
Going into 2018, I wish for myself more self confidence, trust in my own decision making abilities and less fear of what others may perceive me as. I want to be able to negotiate for the upwards of 10% salary increase with confidence in my own abilities, reject boys I only sort of like with confidence and get my dream apartment within my price point. I want to get to the point of trust again and get a wonderful new job opportunity in the late part of the year. And the last but not least only visit Ghana if I am up for it.
So much shit going on this week! I have a new boss and I am likely to have another one within the next couple of weeks. It’s exciting and saddening for me, so in between internal mini panic attacks and fear, I am trying to focus on putting one foot in front of the other. In the meantime, I hit on a cute guy and asked him out for coffee. Had a good time just talking with him and I hope he enjoyed the time too and would like to do it again. Finger crossed very tightly.
I haven’t written anything substantive over the last quarter and I apologise for that. A friend introduced me to a guy, there was chemistry and laughter and for a window in time, I was happy to just enjoy a presence without though for the future. Notorious for my well ordered interactions with others, I let go of the reins and indulged in the moment. There were long text messages, pictures, dinner and hilarity. Surmise to say, I was happier with a guy than I had been over the past 2-3 years.
It didn’t last, of course. Despite not planning a future with the dude, I still needed some measure of reciprocity. The dalliance ended the same way it began, quietly and over text messaging. What is it with guys and text message endings? while other dalliances fall apart due to inadequate time and communication, we fell out because we were both on vacation. I needed my text messages answered daily as per custom and he needed a weeklong break. I had no idea and in the spirit of improving communication, I asked if I was bothering him. He replied in the negative and then sent a prose about feeling conflicted.
I am way too tired for conflicted dealings with men, especially those who are supposed to know better. What’s the point of Netflix, a comfy bed and good friends to spend valuable energy on those who don’t want you? I guess, this is to say, I am done. Tired.
Sometimes you forget
How amazing you are and curse the very things that make you you
You curse the brain which analyzes everything, making sense out of chaos
This same brain that insists on breaking everything down, requiring too much of your strength
The heart which goes soft for dear ones and is deeply hesitant to letting go
It’s ability to be wounded frustrates you and you hate it’s inability to spontaneously heal
You hate the mouth that insists on staying silent even in times of intense pain and anxiety
You curse it as you sit at your desk enduring a panic attack unnoticed by your colleagues
Then you hate the forgetfulness
For making you lead with a description of all that you hate about yourself
To a complete stranger, apologizing in advance for all that you are
Forgive yourself for all the times that you’ve forgotten that
This brain led you here, a foreign country with its own unique language
To this job, with travel to other lands and complex negotiations
This heart, loves ever deeply and has survived many leavings without completely scarring over
It remained open at the leavings of your parents, best friends, and lovers alike
Taking their lessons and rebuilding each time. Be patient, for it must rebuild anew.
The mouth, aided by the brain, swallowed many angry retorts and buried its pain. You needed that to survive and survive you did. It is learning to open up and thrive.
Please be patient with yourself for you are healing.
Love
Faakor
We try to capture our lives’ big moments
The birthdays, graduations, wedding ceremonies, sometimes even the funerals and divorces
And these become the reel of our lives, perfect for narration by a distant yet objective voice
What happens to the moments in between? Mornings where bargains are struck so that one can get out of bed. Lonely nights filled with self doubt and questions. What am I doing? Is he right for me? Why did she have to die?
Do those moments just flutter and die in the wind?
Perhaps they are best left untouched and unarchived. Because moments like those never really leave. They are in the big smiles captured during graduations, cheerful grins at weddings and hidden in the not so shiny tears at funerals. They form a constant thread through our entire lives journey; making them uninvited guests in archived celebrations.
myrandomramblings808 