unraveling x

She likes the illusion of control.

To have everything in its right place.

To be the captainess of her soul.

And yet her kindred spirit finds itself restricted by societal demands and expectations. To live here you must abide. You must compromise. You must be on your best behaviour and dot your i’s and cross your t’s.

Wait your turn. Punch your ticket in the time clock. Be seen, but not too seen. Be heard, but not too heard.

She fears her life is on display for others to judge and voice their opinions. She wants to be courteous and graceful and respectful on the outside when inside the heart screams through caged ribs to beat at it’s own pace and for whom or what or where she desires.

Her free spirit is constantly quieted by the ego to root down and find the job, secure the nest, attract the boy… but there’s resistance whenever she tries.

And perhaps that safe and shiny illusion of control and “freedom” is not for her after all.

Perhaps it’s time to beat her own drum. To find the balance between rushed life-altering decisions and waiting for the “perfect time” when in fact there never is a perfect time and suddenly you’re in your mid-thirties and still forever waiting.

She wonders if there can flow and stability in chaos and uncertainty? She wonders if anyone is truly observing her to make sure she’s on the so-called “right track.” She wonders if she is her own watchful eye, her own capteur and jail warden.

Perhaps if she’s the one who has locked herself into this cell, that means she also processes the keys to let herself out.

I do not like to refer to myself in first person on this blog, as I like to be an “everyman” whom any reader can hopefully relate to. But as I write today, I am not an “everyman.” I am a woman who is an immigrant in her dream foreign country, which she fought long and hard to prove to herself that the heart has no boundaries or barriers. Yet at the present moment my visa is in jeopardy, as it has been time and time again from being an immigrant for over 10 years now, and the lack of control over my life looms ahead.

11 years ago I moved to Paris, and I let go of my dream of working in the film industry to instead be my own main character and live within my own movie. And after years of trying to “please” government barriers, as well as please my own ego and what I thought was expected of me, I had turned so many forced corners and compromised so many natural dreams until my life on the outside looked like my dream life, yet inside it felt nothing of the sort.

Isolated.

Hollow.

Resistance.

I was so focused on the aesthetic visuals of what my life looked like on the outside that I lost the plot and underlying meaning of my very own story.

And these past years of growing pains and hardships and new government guidelines has shown me that, in fact, I haven’t been fighting for my life as I thought. I have been fighting for theirs. The life of society and social media and glass ceilings and ranked achievements. I jumped through their hoops of fire and stood in their lines to abide by their rules and do only what they allowed me to do.

And suddenly, the seams have started to unravel these past few weeks. Instead of trying to keep the piece stitched together as I’ve so desperately done in the past, I’m letting it unravel this time.

Because perhaps it’s time to use the thread and make something new. Something which I hope looks nice, but more importantly, feels nice.

Something which feels like time flying through an afternoon of conversation with friends.

Something which feels like your heart fluttering when looking into the blue eyes of the boy you just met.

Something which feels like your loved ones holding space for you instead of piling the weight of their own ideas of how you should live your life onto your shoulders to carry wherever you go.

Something which feels like the warm amber sun behind closed eyes.

Something which feels like a favourite melodic song at dusk while a breeze touches your face and you’re reminded how sometimes the most simple pleasures are the most rewarding.

No one can guide me through these next few weeks and life-altering decisions except myself. And that is so incredibly isolating and scary on one side of the scale, yet equally liberating and playful and malleable on the other.

When she was 24 she moved to Paris to “find herself” and here she is 11 years later finally completing her mission once everything else, her dreams, her sense of control, her support, has been stripped away and she is left with nothing else but herself.

Welcome. I have been waiting and it’s so nice to finally meet you.

Please, do come in. Let me show you around.

x Lindsay