For writing

Thank you to Elisa for inspiring me to start writing again. This one is for you.

To the parts of ourselves that we hid away.
It’s time to reveal it again.

We were born with a flame in our heart, a light in our eyes, and a world in our minds. We wandered long hours in the realms of our imagination. We saw flowers, trees, smiles of people we loved, and put them into a world of our own. We would go to this world on our way back from school, when we stare out the window during class, when we lay in bed at night.

Our minds were once free like the wind, pure like the snow, soft like the sand. It was untethered by the stress and anxiety of modern society, malleable to be in any shape and form it wanted.
It could wander. It could sing and dance. Showcase its peculiar, colourful limbs.

Now we have put bars around it, rigid, steel bars. Its most bizarre parts have been hidden. Its body twisted into a specific shape.
It hurt, it ached. It protested, but the sounds were muffled by violent blows.
Over the years, numbness pursued each repressive attack. Now, it remained silent, obedient, unimaginative.

What happened?

♦︎

It was a warm summer night. When we were peacefully snuggled up in our fluffy blankets, dreaming, he sneaked in.

He whispered in our ears. Flowing sounds: syllables, words, lines, sentences. Letter after letter. Thought after thought. Like an unfolding and unending DNA strand, it entered our miniature minds. No one saw him. Our mother didn’t, our father didn’t, and we didn’t.
But he changed our lives forever.

He taught us how to judge and compare. And we learned. Hubris was the reward. Shame was the punishment.

We noticed the bodies of girls around us, the body of girls on magazine covers and advertisements. We looked in the mirror and saw the excess pieces of fat around our waist, legs, arms. We wanted to rid of it.

We noticed the intelligent comments that our peers made in the classroom, and the awards they received. We looked at our grades and saw signs of stupidity, laziness. We needed to work more, work longer, work smarter, work harder, we told ourselves.

We noticed those who were always surrounded by friends, centre of the attention. They were always smiling and adored. We are flawed, we told ourselves, not as likeable, not as fun, not as pretty.

We feel pride and hubris when we have slimmer bodies, better grades, more friends. And shame, when not.
He has trained our minds to enjoy pride and hubris, and fear shame.

♦︎

Every once in a while, at night, he comes back and whispers in our ears. Flowing sounds: syllables, words, lines, sentences. Letter after letter. Thought after thought. Like an unfolding and unending DNA strand, it entered our miniature minds.
No one saw him. Our mother didn’t, our father didn’t, we didn’t.

He taught us how to please others.
A sense of belonging was the reward. Loneliness was the punishment.

We stopped crying because our parents raised their eyebrows. Because others looked at us with pity. And sometimes, because we would be locked in a room alone before we stopped.

We started obeying orders because that made our parents happy, our teachers happy. We did our homework, cleaned our room, went to class. We read less, we played outside less, until it became a habit of ours.

We always said yes to our friends. We went to their parties, laughed at their jokes, and talked about the newest trends in the world. We listened to their opinion and nodded. Soon, we started reproducing them.

We learned how to please others, and momentarily, we would feel like we belong. That we are normal.
Yet sometimes, during a busy party, with loud noises and blinding lights, flashes of loneliness came back to us.

♦︎

Every once in a while, at night, he comes back and whispers in our ears. Flowing sounds: syllables, words, lines, sentences. Letter after letter. Thought after thought. Like an unfolding and unending DNA strand, it entered our miniature minds.
No one saw him. Our mother didn’t, our father didn’t, we didn’t.

He taught us how to protect ourselves.
A feeling of security was the reward. Anxiety and insecurity were the punishment.

We chose degrees that made us responsible adults. We could ensure our survival. Others respected us. We went to conferences wearing ironed suits and shiny shoes. We spoke in halls with high ceilings, opulent, elegant. We were surrounded by smart people.

We made it, we thought to ourselves. But one day, they will see that we don’t belong here.

We put shields around our hearts. We expose the shiny parts to others and kept the rest to ourselves. Our peculiar limbs, our bedtime fantasies, our bizarre dances, we kept to ourselves.
Our deepest yearnings, we kept to ourselves.

Our heart, we kept to ourselves.











Night after night, he came back and whispered in our ears. Flowing sounds: syllables, words, lines, sentences.
Day after day, we pursue the rewards he set for us: pride and hubris, a sense of belonging, security.



♦︎

They think that I am a teacher. But I am a thief.
I am paid by the wealthiest in this world to steal one’s hearts true desire. I steal dreams, I steal hope, I steal love.
And I replace them with fear.

I am in the form of your father, your teacher, your friend. I am everywhere on TV advertisements, Hollywood movies, and social media.

I am also a ruthless ruler, who build walls and lock people inside.
And they labor for me, and my boss. They put away their heart’s true desire and labor, labor, labor. For days, weeks, months, years. They labor.

Before you know it,

I. Become. You.

You start whispering syllables, words, lines, sentences in the mind of your peers and your family. You start rewarding their conformity with appraisal and their nonconformity with distance.

♦︎







Over the years, our heart start to ache. Our stomach starts to crunch. Our shoulders start to stiffen. But we ignore it. We think its normal. We continue, day in, day out.

The source of our lives has been stolen from us, replaced with words of fear.
We feel suffocated, and we yearn for air. We feel handicapped, and we yearn for freedom. We feel so much pain, and we yearn to be soothed.

We crave for more attention, more fame, more wealth. We are rewarded by more pride, more hubris, more security, and a greater sense of belonging. The rewards don’t last long, a month at most, before we are punished.
So we crave more, more , and more.

Until we ourselves become the thief.
Until we ourselves become the perpetuator of the system.

To the parts of ourselves that we stripped away from us. It’s time to reclaim it.

No, we never lost them.

To the parts of ourselves that were hid away. It’s time to reveal it again.