OFFICIAL STATEMENT
What happened to Carpentry? It was a bad break-up and calling it is as it is, we did not work out. C and I could not work it out. All the adoration I had for C? — They were all real but have you loved so hard and learned that sometimes, you need to give yourself a chance?
Every quarter of the month an email comes along from a young woman who saw my name in an article and would like to feature a woman within a male-dominated industry. It is easy to say “No, sorry, I’m out,” but it is far more difficult to stop feeling like an impostor as part of an “It” couple who waged against the odds.
I feel a little less, a little lie, a little loss, a little “I didn’t want it enough.”
I was sitting in a TEDxTalk two months ago when the speaker, Sandra Quelle talked about #happymondays.
She said, “When a dream seems impossible, let it go.”
If you want to be a doctor but you do not have a Medicine degree and have got already a mounting student debt, let that dream go. It was a simple step, yet, I found myself looking at C from time to time, feeling some pain and shame. Did I not work hard enough for us?
It was an amicable break-up. Due to the nature of our relationship, breaking up was easy. I am still living with my parents, we haven’t got kids nor major shared investments. I did, however, spend two years with C. I called it my post-graduate education. I would be lying if I said I am still the same person as before, alas, it was too short to make any major developments. Nonetheless, we had a great relationship, I would not let anyone doubt it.
Before & After
When I first sold my skills (or lack thereof), I offered my desire to learn something from scratch, some administrative skills, some foreign language and my communications experience. I knew I was labour at a bargain and that became a murky slime I am still learning to break away from. It is hard to learn that I do not have to be a bargain. But perhaps, that is just my woman talking.
It was a relationship that my parents had doubts with from the very beginning. Because girls like me do not end up with C; it is just unheard of in this country. Heck, not only said by my parents, other people too, directly or otherwise. Immediately, or after that. But every day I have spent with C has given me a spectrum of feelings but never has the question popped in my head, “Why am I here?” — This many can attest pops up fairly often.)
During every moment I have spent with C, I have always known I was supposed to be there.Various bits of my life had brought me there. From the moment a philosophy professor talked about Socrates, carpenters and today’s production lines, right up till the day I saw a carved phone cover.
But I have had my bouts of, “Is this what I want to be with for the rest of my life?”
“Fuck yes,” was the answer in those days.
I’m not sure if my relationship ever got my parents’ blessings. Occasionally, they have been proud of me. After that, they told me to find proper. Proper never enthused me.
C has taught me much. C changed me for the better. C showed me a new side of the city, C showed me a whole new world that I yearned to be in. C brought me along roads that taught me to be more human, C equipped me with neural networks I did not think I had.
C returned me my senses. I rediscovered my sight, I learnt how to listen to sounds of machines — a decibel between the perfect cut and a boomerang; I regained my sense of touch — knowing when it is enough, and I was able to smell parts of a forest I never walked in.
While our relationship was chaste, it did fuck my life for a bit. Even then, I could not fully blame it on C. Call it poor judgement, call it trusting the wrong person, those were trying times. This I warn every female who asked for my opinion. Being with C in this city demanded a lot from me. It demanded me to give parts of myself that I treasured most.
Within the four walls, C made it all bearable and lovable. C put time and money out of the question, almost too literally. Soon, I realised I was no longer able to tolerate what was outside. I needed a ticket out but being with C too long became one step forward into quicksand. Soon, I could not trust myself, promises I made to myself were broken one by one and like anyone who keeps breaking their promises, I soon found it hard to trust my judgement.
Once in my short adult life, after exchanging pleasantries and the top half of my CV to an undergraduate, I told him in passing,
“Once a mind has been stretched, it can’t be unstretched.”
- “Whoa, that’s deep.”Then we both fell into contemplative silence.
The one year span had left me be completely beside myself; in shame, anger and distrust, observing the things that persist without needing the two of us, together. Those two years were a long time but not enough to get to know C better. Yet, two years seemed too much time to get away from the corporate/paper-work world that seems to be my only alternative.
It is hard to get my headspace out of the cloud that maybe I should not have even attempted it. Maybe I could have been a better communications person, maybe I could have had more polished lines on my CV, maybe I could have been a master of a couple instead of Jack of half trade, maybe, maybe, maybe. Until a person snapped at the fog,
“We could dwell on shoulda woulda coulda but that’ll leave less time for the present.”
Rightfully so, the only way to watch C now is with gratitude. One of my favourite columns in the New York Times, Modern Love, recently ran an article about breaking up in which the therapist said,
“It’s about honoring what happened,” she said. “You met a person who awoke something in you. A fire ignited. The work is to be grateful. Grateful every day that someone crossed your path and left a mark on you.”
But gratitude needs time to come through. The last thing anyone should say to a person suffering or angry is, “At least…”
A broken heart takes time to heal. The cracks need time before they become fissures through which more love can flow through. Until then, it is darkness.
Two months ago, I struck up a conversation with a young girl, half a decade younger, worried about her future. I told her, “Try everything, start something. You have time.” Because I knew in a heartbeat, I’ve never regretted it.
I still keep up with C from time to time. My social media feed still follows the budding and the best. I still watch occasional carpentry videos, I still touch wooden furniture and envision how they were made, I still look out as the train passes by some of the hardware stores I used to frequent. I still harbour hope that once fit me. Maybe we will meet again when I am sixty.
The world is big and there must a space for me that I do not know about. Maybe I just need more time to find another or just keep doing things because life is a living tinder.
