Nanki, Week 15 - An Update On Romanticizing Life
I have read a lot of blogs within the past few weeks that talked about personal memories and how it connects to them as a person. Last week I talked about how memories come difficult for me and how everything seems so fuzzy for me and I hate it. I talked about the importance of romanticizing life.
Well, since I’ve been able to put this into practice, I have accumulated a few memorable still shots and saved them in my mind to finally share.
It was the last day of the most recent spring break we had, the friday before that dreaded weekend where it would hit us all that we would have to go to school that following Monday. My few close friends were out with their other friends, visiting family, or on vacation.
I had laid on my bed, rotting away for the past couple days, while scrolling through Instagram, jealous of the lives my peers had. Jealous of the parties they got invited to or had thrown. Jealous of the friends they had and the energy their hangouts had. Jealous of their outfits. Jealous of their skin. Jealous of everything. It occurred to me that I simply couldn’t be satisfied with myself. Other people just looked so happy.
So, on Thursday evening, I trudged out of my room and sat down quietly on the couch next to my mother, who was watching a K-drama at the time. She looked over at me and just knew something was wrong, so I let it spill out of me like an overflowing pot of boiling water.
Then she said something that I had always asked her for as a kid but knew subconsciously that it couldn’t happen. She said: “come to work with me tomorrow.”
I was so shocked, because she works in a state building in Oakland where random people are definitely not allowed given the COVID restrictions. Somehow, she said, she would make it work.
It turned out to be the best day I have had in such a long time. We took the Bart together in the morning, and I suddenly felt proud of my mom. Commuting by herself for so long, being so independent.
We got to the building and she left me on the second floor where I worked on psych notes peacefully and looked into the K Dot. and J. Cole feud a bit deeper. After that, we explored around the Civic Center in Oakland, went to a Comic Store, and got Chipotle and bonded over our experience.
It meant everything to me. I think it’s one of the only memories I have that are vivid because of how much spending time with my mom means to me. I think the only reason I was able to remember it so well IS because of how I romanticized it. How I looked out the window like a main character when I was in Bart. How confidently I walked down the street. So I’d say, the hypothesis has been tested. And I think my theory is correct.
The photo I took of my mom walking in the Chinatown market.
Nanki Kaur this week’s blog that you wrote about spring break really spoke to me because I did something similar during the break as well. I spent so much time at my mom’s office where I spent the first half studying while she worked and the second half working out with her in the quiet gym. It was the first time that I had ever gone to a gym, so I was really nervous, but there was something so nice about being in the quiet space with her while life going on around me. I was not worried and there were no grand stresses on my shoulders especially early on in the beginning of the break. It just felt so real. But I understand exactly what you mean by feeling so much pressure to be doing something, or anything during times which are designed to be our resting period. Every time during breaks, I always feel such intense guilt when I have no major plans, and yet, even when I do have plans I always feel so much pressure to do some type of work. It has become almost a compulsive behavior for me. Despite consciously knowing that break is for resting, I feel the intense need to do work and if someone is something then I also have to be doing something of equivalent value to keep up. It is so stressful that I never end up actually relaxing during the break. It is a bit of a struggle because I know I should not have such a habit but I can not seem to help it.
ReplyDeleteHi Nanki. I love how vulnerable this blog is. It makes one feel as if they’re naked when sharing something so intimate with the world. As the reader, I felt like I was able to peer into your mind and read your thoughts. So thank you for sharing something so personal. I understand that feeling of comparison and the spiral it leads us down. I have been there. I don't know if this will help, but a way I combat that is by reminding myself that I do not see everything that happens in their life. I have posted things and shown the public images of me smiling or just scenes that would have others assume that I am happy. However, I only know that it is a lie. It is not worth falling for it if it costs you mental strain. Your description of how one day you spent it rotting and feeling inferior, and the next, you were able to create a memory that you will forever remember. I have had those moments where I could be crying one moment, but have something unexpected happen in the next which causes me to beam with pure love. I love to think of those turnarounds as little surprises given by the world, similar to a surprise gift. I think I have said this before, however, I would love to talk to you outside of blog comments since you seem like a wonderful person. As always, thank you for sharing Nanki.
ReplyDeleteOh Nanki, how I adore you. I had a… truly horrible week last week. I was so mad at things out of my control, at getting my hopes up and hitting walls, over and over. To my surprise, this week has been a complete switch, and having it all pile up, weirdly helped me accept it. I have always been pretty good at romanticizing my situation, which is why I write, I guess. I completely understand being proud of your mother for doing independent work, especially as a brown daughter.
ReplyDeleteThe care with which you see the people you love is so apparent. I hope you realize how easy it is to romanticize life with a friend like you. It is so sweet how you wanted to see where your mom worked. Sometimes I want to walk around in the shoes of the people I love as well. I usually compare myself to my peers in terms of academic success. Not necessarily jealous, but yearning. For the same opportunities, the same college apps knowledge, the same motivation, the same “I’ve lived in the suburbs my whole life” kind of stability. But I guess our perseverance and ability to love is what sets you and I apart.