One night I woke up from a bad dream. A nightmare, I would say. In that dream I was on my way to the airport with my sister Dyna when I realized I forgot to pack a lot of important items. Like a warm outerwear when it’s going to be late fall/early winter where I’m heading and I forgot to exchange money for expenses, and apparently, my Visa was also not approved yet. I woke up panicked, and thankful that I was still in my room, and not living a nightmare at the airport.
The thing is, I am really travelling soon, and I am unready. That dream was a reminder that I should start packing and preparing, but also the reflection of my quiet anxieties of travelling. Apparently, not too quiet since it managed to creep into my dream. I hate to admit this, but despite me showing my brave side, I am very much afraid. This place is a place I’ve never been to, using a language I don’t speak, in a climate I am not used to. It’s not a baseless fear. But other people do this all the time, don’t they?
I went to a friend’s wedding last weekend, it was probably one of the best weddings I’ve ever been to. That aside, being around familiar faces brought back memories from 2020, when the world was in the thick of COVID-19. These were the same people who had kept me sane during the pandemic. We bonded pre-quarantine, but became a hell lot closer while in quarantine — entirely virtually. We spent countless evenings and Friday nights video calling each other, playing games and chatting. We got to know each other’s secrets, pains and fears. They were the first people I’ve ever shared my traumas with. People who were just colleagues turned into friends. Actual good friends.
Post quarantine, we made trips together — Melaka, Penang, Terengganu. We somehow survived the ultimate friendship test: travelling together. No lives were lost nor harmed, thankfully. Now, five years later, though the frequency of face time has significantly reduced since we no longer work together, I still feel the same about this bunch. One friend once said — from the outside looking in — this bunch is my found family. And as cliche as it sounds, it truly feels like that.
This past few days I thought about feeling FOMO. I used to have chronic FOMO. I think about feeling insecure and wanting to make friends. Being a pathological people pleaser, I tend to say “yes” to anything. Even when I’m tired or not feeling it, I would agree. Because disagreeing makes me feel like a difficult person. But growing older makes me protect myself so much more. I still tend to please people, yes but I do that much less now. I am okay with saying “maybe next time” “not tonight, I'm tired" because all I want to do is go home.
I also don’t get offended anymore if I’m not invited. Some seats aren’t meant for you, and that’s okay. I have learned to know that when I am not invited or included, it’s often not personal. I used to feel unworthy or unlikeable when I was not invited. And that’s my own insecurities talking. Early 20s were tough, trying to form strong loving relationship with myself. I’ve battled many and insecurities, often invisible to others. It’s deep-rooted, and takes time to heal. But learning myself has been the most rewarding part of adulthood.
I love socializing, I really do, but not all the time. I realized, I have started to choose which conversations I would want to engage with. I may love hanging out with you and talking to you, but there will be days I don’t feel like doing any of that. Most times it does not have anything to do with the person, but rather the substance of conversation itself. If it does not concern me, or if it will drain my energy, i would rather not get myself involved. I know I may end up protecting my peace too much, but at this age, that’s literally what i need. I appreciate people, experiences and conversations that add to me, not drain me.
What a tiring work week. I am grateful to be tired and drained from a job that pays my bills but am I close to retiring age yet?
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