I went through my old Tumblr and…

I’m glad I’m done through that kind of misery one only feels in their twenties. I was quite silly but I was also drowning. I would get a glimpse of my me-ness– the dorky, quirky, creative girl. But she was barely bobbing her head above the ocean of despair.

Yes, there were plenty of moments where I was happy, I was with good people but there was also this pervading sadness. A dark cloud, Damocles’ sword! Sylvia Plath wrote something that eloquently explains how I felt about my twenties–

“I am so busy keeping my head above water that I scarcely know who I am, much less who anyone else is.”


I also realized, hey! I was pretty cool in my twenties but I let these  m*therf*ckers mess with my head. They must have gotten off seeing someone as cool as I crumble and get provoked.

It took me a while to realize that these were very insecure individuals. I too struggled with my insecurities. Our difference was, they projected theirs outwards while I internalized mine.

The moment I realized that these people were not worth my attention, I dipped. Peace out!  They pretty much stopped. Maybe the thrill of getting a reaction out of me faded and that’s why they moved on to other things, they just had no grip on me. Or maybe I just ceased to notice.

Insert  another Tumblr quote from my twenties:

You didn’t love her. You just didn’t want to be alone. Or maybe, maybe she was just good for your ego. Or, or maybe she made you feel better about your miserable life, but you didn’t love her. Because you don’t destroy people you love.

That was from Grey’s Anatomy.

But I mean, ewe. It took me a decade of internal work to get to a good place so I’m giving myself grace for how I reacted towards these provocations.



I also thought I wrote better when I was younger, I had more zeal, and more angst. Meanwhile, even though I find myself in similar situations a decade later (like unemployment), I am quite happy and relaxed compared to the anguish it felt when I was 21, 22, 23.

Here’s something I wrote from that time period:

“I am bored, bored, bored. I have nothing to do. I stare at the computer screen wondering about my life. What I should do next. I am here, not where I expected to be. Slowly I try to figure out the freshly scrambled puzzle handed to me. My life is a video game.  But unlike videogames I have no clear goal once I advance to the next level. The glory and euphoria of my achievements fade, the anxiety sets in again. Where to now?  Life is a journey when we move, but I am at a standstill. Wondering which step to take when really there is no fork in the road. The fork in the road is in my head. It’s not even a fork, it’s an entire nervous system. Like a series of dimensions where every single decision leads you to a different kind of life, I see my future in different spheres. The possibility of who I can be is infinite. An infinite amount of choices is an infinite number of risks.”

These days I write quite simply about things:

“Oh today, I went camping. The next day we went on a nature walk. The sun was so nice. The sea breeze was relaxing. On the second day, we laid our picnic mat on the grass and laid down so we could feel the drizzle. I’m so happy, I’m so grateful to be with nature.”

That’s it, I’m laid-back and calm these days. Wooh, I’m glad I learned something out of those brutal years even if I don’t quite appreciate it on the daily.


Happier times of my youth, surrounded by good friends. Circa 2010

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