I have always been a child full of feelings. A child that was just too expressive, needy, and full of love. Often mistaken for “over-excited” and impulsive, by my family. I would cry seeing a child begging on the street. I would hoot with laughter over watching someone fall terribly. I would often lie about little things just to stand out. For example, upon asking if we’ve ever touched the clouds, in grade one, I raised my hand. A class of first graders is dumb, but I sure as hell was more. I always had more to say. I was just as innocent as a kid that thinks ‘eating seed would grow a plant in my stomach’.
As I stated above, I was often mistaken as impulsive and “over-excited” as a child. “Over-excited”, huh, a term that made me aware I have caused trouble, the second I heard it. It was always things I would say out of naiveté. I don’t even know why that word was linked to my mischievousness, as if it was a violation to be excited. It is not even a word, to begin with. I was labeled so by my brothers who always complained to my parents about me and I would get lectured and told off.
As I got older and got promoted to grade 6, I had just come back from Pakistan which was just in time because the day I got to go back to school was the 23rd of September, which is the Saudi National Day. It was a party and believe me, sleep was not going to come easy. The first day of school, overjoyed by making new friends, wearing a dress to school and a party?!?! How did I get so lucky?
Anyway, I woke up, got ready, and met my cousins on the school bus, who at the time were my mortal enemies. I was big-noting myself, exaggerating and boasting about my trip to Pakistan and my uncle’s wedding, which by the way was nothing like it. It was just meeting all the relatives and fighting their kids and causing trouble everywhere. The Summer in Pakistan in those days was just dreary and dull. There was no TV dish system, Just a vintage antenna that had nothing to write home about channels. The load shedding was a must in the warm climate of Karachi.
Upon bragging so much I did not get the look I wanted to see on my cousins’ faces. Instead, they told me about all the fun places they visited with my other cousins and how they didn’t even feel I was gone. I just sat quietly then, on the back seat of the school bus, folding my arms and pouting.
I hit my head on the seat in front of me, as the bus screeched to a stop and the kids started getting off. I had forgotten about my cousins and was looking forward to GRADE 6. What fun times, when we actually wanted to grow old.
As I entered the class, there were girls on the chairs putting up balloons, each wearing a dress themed to the celebration of The National Day. I was overjoyed and wanted to help. Some were pleased to see me, some were just angered. As I began to blow the balloons I handed some girl my damp balloon which she tied and threw in the air. It burst. All the girls screamed at the burst of the balloon and I yelled even more raucously. So much that I did not stop even when they all did. I was probably, just “over-excited” or just genuinely startled. If I see from everyone else’s perspective, I was “over-excited” or the latter, from what I remember. I went and sat down on a chair when I yelled “that balloon looks like a condom!”. Yeah, I guess my innocence was wearing off slightly. Thanks to a friend who stopped me from repeating that sentence because she knew what a condom was. I didn’t. Weirdly enough, it actually resembles! I just thought I had learned a new word.
What I wish I knew was that this friend is going to be a lifelong lesson. A lesson good or bad, it’s unmistakably significant because I have had a tough time enduring it. I am still figuring out, A friend, I have stopped being friends with for about 4 years now. Was it a loss? I still have a very challenging time processing our friendship. Yes, many people come and go, but this was the first time a person who left such an abstruse impact on me, came into my life. When someone mentions her, or when I think of her, I think of her as the Kilgrave to Jessica Jones. The way he possesses her haunts her and the way Jessica has an arduous time dealing with the trauma it has caused her. But howbeit, I also think of her as Jessica but myself as Trish Walker who is just obsessed with Jessica and her powers and her overall cynosure. This whole thing in my head was what kept me going, watching this show. Just for a fact, I despise Trish.
I perceived her to be very different from all the sixth graders in the course. I found her to be very reasoned,well-versed, and creative, unlike all the girls I had known who were very unkind, mean-spirited, self-indulgent, and a charlatan. She was someone who would be friends with me or anyone for nothing. She and I became good friends in a little time and here’s where the trouble began.
I was a very needy kid. I began to have attachment issues. I was also very childish but easy to go; happy go lucky. We would bellow with laughter in the back of the class, we would talk about music in the class, mark inside jokes on our textbooks, listen to Taylor Swift, annoy our friend Hanadi and dissolve in laughter for the littlest things.
I had begun to have weak eyesight and couldn’t see the whiteboard so I started sharing her glasses. I would use them to see the board and we both would jot down whatever was written. And Oh My! The view would be HD. Later I got my eyesight checked after convincing my parents I wasn’t just doing it for clout. To my parent's surprise, I wasn’t lying. Soon I got my glasses.
She taught me a lot. She was the reason I began listening to Taylor Swift and still do to date.
At the time I was obsessed with her and everything she did. I would try so hard to figure out what it was about her that made me make myself better every day? In retrospect, I think it was because she was the only one who would adhere to whatever I said. She would listen to me earnestly. Her slightest piece of advice was adequate for me. I am guessing it’s loving someone more than ourselves that makes things go down in flames. I was realising that her being a part of my life wasn’t giving me room to grow, instead, I felt suffocated. It wasn’t her fault though. I do not blame her. I was only to blame for not having to know myself better.
Every time I would get in trouble with a girl in my class, she would never side with me. I would feel ashamed and left out. I would try not to ask her why she doesn’t defend me when groups of girls would come in defense of their friends. I just wondered if she would ever give some significance to our friendship. That just made me loathe myself so much that I wanted to leave.
That was the time when my father started mentioning if it was the right time to be shifting to Pakistan. I suggested yes and my father was prepared to fly us to Pakistan. All the while that we were in Jeddah, I wondered how my so-called friend of 4 years would feel. I witnessed her crying when we said our goodbyes to our very good friend Mariam Shiraz. Reminds me of,“ Goodbye, goodbye! Parting is such sweet sorrow!” by Shakespeare.
I would write poems for her when she would write poems for someone else. I once wrote, ‘There’s a party in your head and I’m not invited.” She read that and asked me who it was for. Of course, at the time I did not have the heart to tell her that I had never once crossed her mind. Her face was always blank, except when I made her laugh and she gleamed, glimmered, shimmered, and sparkled. It was all a one-sided friendship, I knew very well but I just couldn’t let go.
Well, of course, when you’re just so happy, smiling ear to ear, the world cannot witness it and your ship just hits the iceberg or your van just screeches to a halt or something like that.
There came this new girl, Jannat. For those of you who are reading, Jannat means ‘Heaven’ in Urdu and so this girl was the total opposite. Well, at the time she was just someone who would want to snatch my Jessica from me. I could see how attached they both had gotten and I just couldn’t handle it. I broke up with her and she did not give a damn. Later I texted her on Instagram and we had this cringe overdramatic dialogue. I don’t remember much, But what I do remember is that she said I was “over-possessive”.
That’s it. That was how I decided I am never going to let my emotions be visible. I bottled up every feeling I had. You see that was my only unhealthy coping mechanism.
My grades were going down and since I was in my teens and having a change of behaviors, my mother, who was just a brown mom and did not have any idea how to deal with teenagers, though it was the influence of my friend. She knew about my friend and she just warned me to stay away from her. Since I was a very obedient child to my mother, I just faked that I had no contact with her whatsoever.
Anyway, we spent 4 years of school together and we went on and off and had a great time, but on the last day of school for me, when I was permanently shifting to Pakistan, she gave me a letter. I read it and gave no reaction to it. Mostly because I didn’t want to cry. But also because for the first time in my life, she was embarrassed in front of me. All the while it was me always going red in front of her thinking about what she would think. So much that she had sat in my subconscious mind. Even when I was doing something private, like humming, writing, or drawing, I’d think of what would she think if she sees this? I just couldn’t live like that but I also couldn’t live without her.
The last time I was visiting Makkah, for our last pilgrimage, I cried to Allah and asked him to make us see each other again. I prayed that we both end up in the same school in Pakistan. We did, But I should’ve asked for a better friendship or something. Or I should’ve asked him to bless me with some talent that would pay my bills and get me the latest Louis Vuitton now and then.
I was in dire need of therapy. I searched on the web and I read books. I tried my best to research how to deal with a toxic friendship. Why was I the way I was? Who was at fault? Why couldn’t I be friends with anyone except her? Why was I so choosy in friendship? I met many people along the way and I never quite met anyone like her. I still wonder. But I was the one to end our friendship. Because I couldn’t find answers to my questions. I wasn’t getting the same energy in return for all I did for her. I was just in a terrible state of mind. A lot of my friends helped me along the way to clear my mind, to sort out my problems. Anshaal, Haniya, Afra, Waniya, Laiba. All of them tried helping with what they could do best. It wasn’t just a day’s work to get over her. Unfortunately, I was too deep and miserable. It was like I wasn’t sober or something. I couldn’t share any of it with my mother, thinking she was impulsive or wouldn’t understand. Embarrassingly, I unfolded my problem to anyone, imagining, that someone might have the answer or have a clear picture of it that I’m oblivious to.
I had a lot of moments when I risked going back to her to restore our friendship. As I said we went on and off, but the last time I had made up my mind to not be friends with her, I acted in the spur of the moment and asked her again. This time she said no. I was okay with it because I knew it was for the better.
Honestly, I suck at making friends. I suck at keeping in touch. But ever since I ended my friendship with her, I just never even wanted to make any friends. I know I invested a lot of myself emotionally into someone who never valued me or my loyalty or our friendship. I have friends but I just don’t think of anyone as a best friend or something. She was a friend to all, someone who always wanted to be diplomatic. As Taylor Swift wrote in Cardigan, “ A friend to all is a friend to none.”
I am sharing this essay because when I don’t know who else will be on the same wavelength as me. So far, I only know that I learned from this scenario in my life that you should put yourself first. Loving yourself is the key factor to making others respect you, value you, and love you. Nobody’s loving is going to develop your character and make you stand out like you loving yourself would. To know yourself, you must read and find what you like. You must start noticing what really lights up your mood or what really strikes your heart. You must discover yourself through every aspect of your life. And remember! People can change. Nothing about you or about others is factual, That’s the thing about us humans, we’re all changing, all the time.
Lastly, I can only be thankful for her and for my problems, because this might be the reason I have come to what I am now; loving myself. I am more connected to my feelings and looking forward to getting even better as a person, for myself, and for those who I love who love me back. I have a passion for writing, which I had known for quite a long time but only now have I started to share my writings. I do tell myself I was supposed to be myself even without them but it had to happen so.
