I had always lived quite a protected, sheltered life. But there came a point when that shelter could not protect me from sinking into back
to back disappointments that came in from different areas of my life, and I was forced to take
charge of my destiny and, more importantly, my happiness. As someone pointed
out, I was looking for my Queen
moment. I wanted to believe it was me standing against the world and to save myself it was inescapable defeating
everything that put me down. Starting second half of the last year, my semantically-empty,
meshed life began to unravel and change.
From travelling alone to United States, colouring
my hair crimson red, firing real bullets, skydiving,
kayaking, scuba diving, to getting
a permanent tattoo- I think I dipped my toes into quite a lot of amazing, adventurous activities in a short period of time. Of which chasing and charming a handsome, geeky software
engineer dude and deciding to get married to him within 20 days was breathtakingly
brave. After all of this, honestly, I feel good. Also, because I have been a
chicken all my life. An emotionally weak, confused chicken so to speak.
Maybe there still is a quest to find ecstasy and freedom. Or maybe it’s
more like fighting my inner fears and demons. Some of my friends thought this
transition was weirdly cool and that I looked tougher. And although I’d love to
believe that, the truth is for the most part, I was so scared I did not enjoy things around, let alone feeling
strong.
I was nauseating really bad after my first skydive and even got
feverish for two days. I drank litres of dirty sea water while learning to scuba dive and could not eat for hours. My already super-sensitive skin got
severely burnt, tanned and scaly, leaving me with bi-coloured hands
and legs. While kayaking, the tides became so violent at one point
that our kayak got imbalanced and I got like thousands of mini heart attacks at
a time. After the hair colouring thing, I had a tough time bearing criticism
that came from almost everywhere. I was shivering and sweating when the tattoo artist
punctured my skin. BUT, I am glad I tried and survived all of it.
My mom now thinks I am 'un-ladylike'. My brother feels I am kind of too impulsive
and adventurous. My dad thinks I am not very obedient like my siblings. My
husband thinks I am exciting (and dangerous). They’re all quite right. I do
am all of these things. But besides that, and, more straightforwardly, I am un-understandably
crazy.
*Pooh*