I am at this age where more than half of my friends are either married, married with kid(s), or are attached long-term and are heading to that path of foreverhood. I go to dinners and lunches with couples happily attached, and I am the odd one out. My mom has transformed into a constant reminder of my clock ticking away, her voice does not conceal the concern for her one and only daughter. Who am I to blame her, anyway? My younger brother is married, and with a kid.
It is hypocrisy to say that I do not long for couplehood. There are Saturday nights when I am dreaming of going out hand-in-hand with someone, only to spend those evenings watching movies that promise fairytale endings. This romantic comedies cliched so much love life that it is aching not to be attached.
Love does not fall from the sky. Love is a proactivity, so they say. So I went out. I dressed up, put my lipstick on, and opened my doors to the world outside. I went out with friends, most of the time. With friends of friends, sometimes. Multiple dinners and hard-rocked clubs and bars I have graced upon, to discover and be merry and inhaled air that may not be good for my lungs. The adult life seemed superficial, I realised. I rocked my head and enjoyed the music that barely got to the depth of my heart. It was played many a time that I have memorised the lyrics but the notes were out of tune with my desires. I went home in the wee hours of the night flushed and tired.
Gurus and psychologists online sing the same song: Love must come from within. First and foremost, the self must be loved. All else will follow. The radiating beauty that is manifested from the love of self somehow attracts the outsiders, piquing their curiosity. Selfishness has its positive side, as I understood it. The love of self that means appreciating oneself and accepting the strengths and weaknesses and loving it anyway is the humble version of love of self. We will be loved if we love ourselves first.
To love oneself is to discover one's true self. I was rethinking this and decided to walk the Sunday afternoon away, in the process of discovering myself, to be able to discover others. I walked in the city, took paths I would never have had the luxury to do so if I was not alone, and rediscovered the world from a different point of view. A day after the heart's day, my new self was born. Me Day was born.
The trips to the theaters alone became frequent. Regardless of the time of day. This would have been inconceivable last year, but it is a reality this year. A few weeks back, a colleague asked me how I spent my weekend. I answered by saying I went out and wandered the city streets alone. She gave me her most sincere look, and in the hushed tone so full of concern she said, "That's sad."
I did not feel sad though. That weekend, I went to a run-down movie theater full of bugs that showed an indie canadian film in French. I laughed, I cried, I itched my way through, but I never felt sad. In fact, I felt empowered. After reading the reviews about this cinema, I felt intimidated. It seemed like an artist's hang out place, so I imagined it overflowing with exuberant ambience and expressive substance from overly confident individuals. It was, in a way. I was so glad I fought the ego that almost stopped me from trying it. I realised that my imagination is greater than what is. Most importantly, intimidation is a battle that only happens within.
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| Walk, and you shall discover. |
