bathing in love, sun, and the present
i spent the last few days before leaving to live in a new country lounging by the pool with my childhood best friends. our biggest problem was what we should order for lunch and if the UV index was high enough to clear our acne and seasonal depression with a good tan. i played beach volleyball every other day, ate home cooked meals with my family, and watched one of my oldest friends get married. life was the simplest it had been in so long, but it only lasted two weeks. two weeks of sweet simple summer before moving to away for two months.
when i found out that i would be interning in Singapore for the summer, i took a deep breath in to prepare myself and i don’t think i let that breath out…for several months.
i held my breath waiting for it to hit me that i was actually leaving. even for college, i only moved about a two hour drive away from home. comfort cost less than one tank of gas for me to find in my family’s familiarity when i needed it. and despite being the one that applied for the program in the first place, it never actually dawned on me what life would look like upon being accepted. doing onboarding and orientation modules, buying plane tickets, looking up things to do, none of that registered in my mind. and slowly, this feeling bled into my entire life.
i began sleeping through classes after failing to find the energy to leave my bed. only forcing myself to clock into work in the evenings, smiling and greeting guests through muscle memory. when joking around with my friends or coworkers, it felt like i was watching myself perform a well-rehearsed part. even during Ramadan, one of my favorite months of the year and a beautifully spiritual time, i had never felt more numb. i wasn’t sad, just drained. i went about my days hardly recognizing the passage of time or that i woke up at all. my anxiety had been at an all time high for so many reasons and rather than addressing it, i allowed myself to distance from the present in order to avoid experiencing the full weight of my feelings.
looking back, it wasn’t just Singapore. i wasn’t freaking out over the privilege (emphasis on privilege) of moving to an exciting new place. or the fact that i also recently found out that i wouldn’t be in Texas for the rest of the year either. but i now understand that i was grieving the loss of time that hadn’t even happened yet.
i wouldn’t really call it a fear of missing out. i think i’ve grown a lot over the years in terms of security in my relationships, but with that growth i’ve found myself noticing tiny moments of the most raw love more often. the moments where your friends are gathered on the floor in your tiny college apartment living room, laughing over the stupidest shit that probably wouldn’t even be funny to an outside observer. when your hometown friends always find the way back to each other after months apart, crowded into someone’s car on the way to god knows where. telling your siblings you love them by asking them to go on a late night fast food run together. fractions of a minute where you are fully grounded in the present, all five senses working to let you know that this is your life right now.
these moments are always happening, but there will come a time when you lean back and the scene plays in slo-mo. your heart aches a little even though it feels lighter than ever. it aches because it knows that those moments might not happen again, mourning the death of something pure before its gone. in the past few months where i let my anxiety take hold over my life, i felt this ache like an anvil sitting on my chest. i think it’s important that we have a healthy dose of bittersweet awareness when it comes to the good things and how fleeting they can be. it can often serve as a gratitude exercise. but your mind has a funny way of distracting you from addressing what you’re really going through if you are not careful. for me, it manipulated something as positive as gratitude and turned it into grief.
if you’re wondering how i finally pulled myself out of this mindset, the answer is - a hug.
specifically, it was the courage to ask a dear friend of mine for a hug. although i didn’t know what exactly was wrong or why i had been feeling so lost, i knew i wanted comfort and reassurance that my own brain wasn’t providing. i held back from talking to my friends for a very long time about what i was going through because i didn’t want to speak up until i could say “hey guys, i’ve been feeling really ____ about ______”. i couldn’t fill in those blanks so i stayed quiet. but the longer i kept to myself, the heavier the pain became.
one night i was studying at a coffee shop and i could not focus on my work. i sat for almost two hours trying to complete an assignment that normally would’ve taken me no longer than 45 minutes. i was on the verge of tears, so frustrated with myself and utterly exhausted over more than just a stupid stats project. finally, i texted my friend and just told her that i needed a hug because i haven’t been feeling well for a few weeks. within minutes, she told me she was on her way and didn’t even ask me to elaborate. i didn’t need to explain anything to her and the second she got to the coffeeshop, she tossed down her stuff and gave me the tightest hug. i immediately started crying lol. i’m not sure what the science behind it is, but as soon as she hugged me, some sort of switch flipped in my brain and the breath that i had been holding for months finally left my chest.
we went and sat outside the coffeeshop and she sat patiently while i struggled for the words to explain what i had been feeling, but with each sentence the tightness gently unraveled. she listened and asked questions and told me everything i needed to hear, which in all honesty, wasn’t anything particular profound. it was the bare minimum. it was -
“you have every right to feel that way”
“i am here for you”
“you are doing the right thing and these opportunities were meant for you”
“i am proud of you.”
when you read those words, they feel scripted. but when they come from someone who genuinely cares about you, it’s enough. especially when you cannot even offer the bare minimum of kindness to yourself.
now, i’m back by the pool, sitting alone. writing to you, thousands of miles away from everything i’ve ever known. and i can’t help but smile because i am proud of myself. for choosing this for me despite every instinct telling me to stay where i was comfortable. for finding new people to grow with and love, learning that doing so isn’t a sacrifice but a gift. i’m proud of myself for staying present each day.
to some, those two weeks at home before i left might be considered nothing to special compared to a summer studying abroad. but for me, those two weeks were a reminder of what would be waiting for me when i return bearing stories to tell and of course, presents.
when i found out that i would be interning in Singapore for the summer, i took a deep breath in to prepare myself and i don’t think i let that breath out…for several months.
i held my breath waiting for it to hit me that i was actually leaving. even for college, i only moved about a two hour drive away from home. comfort cost less than one tank of gas for me to find in my family’s familiarity when i needed it. and despite being the one that applied for the program in the first place, it never actually dawned on me what life would look like upon being accepted. doing onboarding and orientation modules, buying plane tickets, looking up things to do, none of that registered in my mind. and slowly, this feeling bled into my entire life.
i began sleeping through classes after failing to find the energy to leave my bed. only forcing myself to clock into work in the evenings, smiling and greeting guests through muscle memory. when joking around with my friends or coworkers, it felt like i was watching myself perform a well-rehearsed part. even during Ramadan, one of my favorite months of the year and a beautifully spiritual time, i had never felt more numb. i wasn’t sad, just drained. i went about my days hardly recognizing the passage of time or that i woke up at all. my anxiety had been at an all time high for so many reasons and rather than addressing it, i allowed myself to distance from the present in order to avoid experiencing the full weight of my feelings.
looking back, it wasn’t just Singapore. i wasn’t freaking out over the privilege (emphasis on privilege) of moving to an exciting new place. or the fact that i also recently found out that i wouldn’t be in Texas for the rest of the year either. but i now understand that i was grieving the loss of time that hadn’t even happened yet.
i wouldn’t really call it a fear of missing out. i think i’ve grown a lot over the years in terms of security in my relationships, but with that growth i’ve found myself noticing tiny moments of the most raw love more often. the moments where your friends are gathered on the floor in your tiny college apartment living room, laughing over the stupidest shit that probably wouldn’t even be funny to an outside observer. when your hometown friends always find the way back to each other after months apart, crowded into someone’s car on the way to god knows where. telling your siblings you love them by asking them to go on a late night fast food run together. fractions of a minute where you are fully grounded in the present, all five senses working to let you know that this is your life right now.
these moments are always happening, but there will come a time when you lean back and the scene plays in slo-mo. your heart aches a little even though it feels lighter than ever. it aches because it knows that those moments might not happen again, mourning the death of something pure before its gone. in the past few months where i let my anxiety take hold over my life, i felt this ache like an anvil sitting on my chest. i think it’s important that we have a healthy dose of bittersweet awareness when it comes to the good things and how fleeting they can be. it can often serve as a gratitude exercise. but your mind has a funny way of distracting you from addressing what you’re really going through if you are not careful. for me, it manipulated something as positive as gratitude and turned it into grief.
if you’re wondering how i finally pulled myself out of this mindset, the answer is - a hug.
specifically, it was the courage to ask a dear friend of mine for a hug. although i didn’t know what exactly was wrong or why i had been feeling so lost, i knew i wanted comfort and reassurance that my own brain wasn’t providing. i held back from talking to my friends for a very long time about what i was going through because i didn’t want to speak up until i could say “hey guys, i’ve been feeling really ____ about ______”. i couldn’t fill in those blanks so i stayed quiet. but the longer i kept to myself, the heavier the pain became.
one night i was studying at a coffee shop and i could not focus on my work. i sat for almost two hours trying to complete an assignment that normally would’ve taken me no longer than 45 minutes. i was on the verge of tears, so frustrated with myself and utterly exhausted over more than just a stupid stats project. finally, i texted my friend and just told her that i needed a hug because i haven’t been feeling well for a few weeks. within minutes, she told me she was on her way and didn’t even ask me to elaborate. i didn’t need to explain anything to her and the second she got to the coffeeshop, she tossed down her stuff and gave me the tightest hug. i immediately started crying lol. i’m not sure what the science behind it is, but as soon as she hugged me, some sort of switch flipped in my brain and the breath that i had been holding for months finally left my chest.
we went and sat outside the coffeeshop and she sat patiently while i struggled for the words to explain what i had been feeling, but with each sentence the tightness gently unraveled. she listened and asked questions and told me everything i needed to hear, which in all honesty, wasn’t anything particular profound. it was the bare minimum. it was -
“you have every right to feel that way”
“i am here for you”
“you are doing the right thing and these opportunities were meant for you”
“i am proud of you.”
when you read those words, they feel scripted. but when they come from someone who genuinely cares about you, it’s enough. especially when you cannot even offer the bare minimum of kindness to yourself.
now, i’m back by the pool, sitting alone. writing to you, thousands of miles away from everything i’ve ever known. and i can’t help but smile because i am proud of myself. for choosing this for me despite every instinct telling me to stay where i was comfortable. for finding new people to grow with and love, learning that doing so isn’t a sacrifice but a gift. i’m proud of myself for staying present each day.
to some, those two weeks at home before i left might be considered nothing to special compared to a summer studying abroad. but for me, those two weeks were a reminder of what would be waiting for me when i return bearing stories to tell and of course, presents.
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