CONTENT WARNING: Just in case the title wasn’t suggestive enough, there is mention of sex and sexuality in the following article which would mean it qualifies as explicit. The matter is discussed form a Christian perspective with the purpose of helping people understand and accept their sexual side as part of themselves without shame or guilt. It is the necessary kind of explicit I believe, but just be aware as you proceed.

Much too often I think we get confused about what we really want. In our culture, sexual expression is very free. That refers not only to the personal freedom to experience your own sexual desires, but also a lot of media coverage in that sense. And no, I don’t mean pornographic content, just a lot on the subject of sexuality, you know? People know more about sex than ever before and they keep finding out about it younger and younger.

Personally, I was brought up in a Christian household, but my dad has been very open to discussing these things with me. I could always take my curiosities to him. The major point here is however that, even though I haven’t yet experienced sex, I still have sexual desires. The reason I wanted to write about it is not so much that it wasn’t talked about enough. Not even that y’all needed another girl to comment on the problem, but rather because I think we have come to really misunderstand these desires and label them wrong.

The bible talks about sex and it is a good gift from God, a great one might I add. However, for it to be properly experienced there are some parameters that the bible lays down. At this time we’re not going to talk about that. The point is just to clarify that I don’t view sex as a bad thing. Unfortunately, it got a bad rep being associated with all these cuss words. That makes sex feel wrong, like it’s something we’re not supposed to do but do anyway. The debate could probably go on and on, and who knows? We might touch on that at another time, right now though, there is this specific aspect in my life that I noticed and I thought it would be worth sharing.

As people, pretty much all of us have sexual desires at some point. We deal with it differently. I am aware that some will argue that feeling like having sex doesn’t have to have any more meaning that just that, but I must respectfully disagree. There is always a reason one wants to have sex. I’d dare go as far as say that most of the time the need is much deeper than we all even realize. It’s not just a simple “I’m horny”, “I like you” or “I want to try something new”. I think more often than not we crave sex as it was intended – as a form of connection.

For me personally, I always seems to experience a significant increase in libido at times where I crave something… someone… for more than just a body. I want to be loved, wanted, admired and that also involves sex, but it’s not all it is.

Truth is I can’t speak for the boys. I can’t even speak for all the girls, but what I really believe is that if you’re paying attention, you’ll notice that it’s really more than just physical. Sexual desire is a product of a deeper need – the need to feel connected. We all spend most of our lives trying to belong somewhere and that also is part of why we chase romantic love. The reasons we get married and crave love are many, both biblical and experiential. But, at its very core, is it not the need to be connected? To be desired? To be cherished? You might think I’m egotistic for wanting a person to do these for me. I can’t deny that claim, but that doesn’t mean I don’t intend on reciprocating.

Ohh, the more I write, the more I realize how vast the subject is and I know I’m not prepared to talk about it in detail. Yet, what prompted me to write was to help especially Christian young women struggling with their sexual desires. I want to include boys too but I’m not sure how much our experience is similar. If it helps, by all means, keep reading because, in all fairness, the church has been pretty closed off about this especially in Romania. Not everyone has a trusted adult to turn to. I just wanted to tell you that it’s ok. We are that way because that’s how God created us. It’s not wrong to have desires. Sure, that doesn’t mean we get to do whatever we want about it because “it’s ok to experience them”. Handling them is a completely different discussion. What I’m pointing to is that it’s ok to feel like having sex. And more than that, I want to encourage you to look deeper and figure out what it is that you actually want. I believe you’ll find too rarely that you just want physicality. More often than not you’ll realize there is something else you want. For me, it’s been connection repeatedly. That discovery has not made the whole thing perfectly manageable, but it does help to understand the truth behind it. It’s easier to find a solution too. Because connection can be managed without sex. Sure, it won’t be great not to have what we want, but there are alternatives to that and that’s encouraging. At least for me.

I know not everyone is a fan of this, but I do believe in saving one’s self for marriage. But keeping these things shut down somewhere won’t help. If we don’t explore them and learn to keep them at bay, the moment we get into a relationship, the whole thing could go south fast. And we don’t want that. I’m no counselor yet (though I strive to hopefully be soon), but I believe it’s a needed discussion. We’re not wrong for having these thoughts and wants. But we are still responsible for them. I’m not talking as one with a perfect record, but I want to be an encouragement for those scared or ashamed of their sexuality. It’s not something to be ashamed of. I’m writing about it, aren’t I?

I do this out of genuine belief that it needs addressing. Maybe I’m making it out to be more than it is. I don’t really know, but what I do know is I don’t regret writing about it. It might not have been spectacularly insightful. It is a vast subject to tackle, and I only set out with a single goal this time. If I find that it helps, maybe I will consider a series on it, but for now I want to leave you with this thought: sexuality is part of the human experience as God intended it; it happened before the fall. There is nothing wrong with you and it’s not something you should shut down. It’s something that needs to be wisely navigated. I’m not yet fully equipped to advise on the process of that wise untangling, but I’m sure there are people in your life that you could turn to for advice. Don’t be ashamed! It’s better to talk about it and figure it out in a safe space than finding yourself lost and guilty every time such a feeling surfaces. Plus, I encourage you to dig deeper and figure yourself out. What do you want in relation to this sexual desire? What is it pointing to? Is there any way you might be able to alleviate that without acting upon your impulses? I’m not saying that if you find the answer to be no then it’s okay to just go for it. Just putting that out there too.

God is the master helper in every matter, not just this. Yeah, it might feel weird at first to discuss it with him, but I truly believe it’s something he wants because he desires complete honesty. He knows out hearts anyway, so why hide it? God will be the best helper and prayer is a top-notch resource, but don’t shy away from choosing a person to talk to as well. That really is a good combo. I can vouch for that from experience.

Let this be your principle: “you were bought at a price1. Therefore, honor God with your bodies.” (1 Corinthians 6:20).

Some time ago I went to a park. This is a park that I had been to a few times when I was a child. I can’t say that I have plenty of memories connected to that particular place, but there were some and it was just that kind of place you want to go to as an adult to remember it, to relive the past, those “good ol’ days” as we call them. So I went.

But I was shocked and almost sick when I stepped on that ground. Nothing I had hoped to see was there. Nothing. There was no more glamour, no more sunshine, not even the people strolling around made it make sense. It couldn’t. Because the place I had been to, the place that I was hoping to remember was no longer there. Every step meant relearning something I was supposed to know, something I thought I did. But that place was long gone. And the memories? They’re ghosts. This new, sad, colorless place knew nothing of me. I am sure that the specific part of the park that I went to had something to do with this impression because it was all broken pavement, construction sites and lifeless nature. The people strolling around felt like actors or robots. They didn’t seem real, and they couldn’t have been in my perception. I didn’t even know I had to say goodbye the last time I went there; and now? Now I was much too late.

But even if it was purely my impression, that does happen. There are places that we cherish so much and then you blink and the spot where you built your fondest memories no longer exists. It changed so that it can be other people’s fondest memories, so that they too would grieve when they get older and the places they knew leave without a trace. Places forget people too, but people rarely forget places of that importance. There is a kind of sorrow about this that I find difficult to word. It’s like pieces of your memory and identity are being rewritten to fit other people’s stories. As you grow old there is this fog that covers your vision – melancholy. And you start seeing life through grey-tinted glasses. It’s almost as if someone wants to deny your very existence when they “modernize” what you used to know.

We have to change because the people coming after us are not the same. They need their own places to write their own histories. But in the background, you can see all the grown-ups holding their chin with a sigh. They look at the place, but try to rebuild in their imagination what it once was like… what it once felt like. No matter how progressive or future-oriented you are, there will always be that one place you guys used to get pizza from on birthdays, that one lake you strolled around on Sunday evenings, that one park you went to play at everyday after school, that one something that will always be that one sweet memory.

When you go to a reunion you meet the people you once knew, but the 2.0 (or more likely 13.8) version of them. There will always be something about them that feels vaguely familiar, but there will also never be that connection again. There can’t be. Who they used to be doesn’t exist anymore. They bear the same name, but they are no longer the kids or teenagers they used to be because a lot has happened. That’s the same with places.

Places too forget people sometimes. Other times it simply feels like they get Alzheimer’s. There is something awfully familiar or unchanged about them but they no longer represent what they used to. Maybe they were abandoned, maybe they were only rearranged, maybe they simply became a different shade of green, blue or pink. But the feeling stays the same. You look at them and you know what you want them to be, what they once were to you, but they can no longer be that for you.

I don’t know, guys. Maybe it’s us. Maybe it was never about the places and what they remember. Maybe it’s rather about the expectations that we set for them. We want them to remain unchanged for our childhood soul, but they must move on just like we did. How sad would it be to go to a place that has not changed in forever? Don’t you think that would also cause grief? I think the feeling would be like looking at the picture of someone who passed. It looks the same, but you know there is no more life there. The very essence of it, what made it what it was is gone. And that’s on us. Because we change. Places forget us because they don’t recognize us. What is there to recognize other than those memories that tie us together?

And that’s not a problem.

We grow and we change. Places grow and they change too. We never really forget each other in any way that matters. But, when years later we meet again, we simply must acknowledge we are not who we used to be, both of us. It’s hard and it hurts. But it’s inevitable and healthy. What once was is so precious exactly because it once was, because it used to be. The melancholia factor is what makes it rose-tinted. It is the meaning we attach to these places that make them so very special.

What we grieve when we realize we no longer recognize a place is not the change itself, but the forgotten life it used to represent. We grieve for who we once were, those children that knew how to laugh and mean it, that could tell the truth without fear of rejection, that could play and live in a million worlds every day, that could pretend to be adults without having to bear the full weight of what that means. We cry for that freedom, that blissful ignorance that only children can experience.

I still think it’s beautiful that we grow and get to look back on them so fondly, but it’s a kind of sad that lingers. It stays with you and makes you suffer for all that was and maybe could have been. You tend to think it was the place or the time or the people. And they all were part of it of course, but you know what it actually is? It’s you that you miss. You miss the person you used to be when life didn’t seem quite so harsh and unforgiving, so bent on tearing you apart. And that’s healthy to an extent. But the world is harsh and unforgiving and staying ignorant is simply madness. Because when you are little you (ideally) have people to protect you. But that’s not enough. You will have to learn how to survive on your own. Because, like those places, people change and some people cannot be part of your entire journey. Sometimes you simply have to live a little on your own two feet.

And you know what’s fun? There will be other places that you will go to and that will become fond memories for 20 years later. And it’s crazy to think some people hurt from being forgotten by what those places used to be, while you only now get to create memories there. But it’s true. And so the circle goes, round and round until we stop breathing. And there is what I dare call beauty in this cycle.

Some find it annoying when older people reminiscence but I finally get it. Of course you would miss all the great times of your life, all the beautiful forgotten versions of you. Most people, like with places, only know you for a season. It’s our try at preserving the best of us when we go back over and over to who we used to be. We want them to know “it’s not just what you see now. I used to be more fun, more outgoing, more spontaneous, more capable…” But those fade and we sadly get this stringent feeling that we must explain ourselves simply to make sense of our getting older. And that’s okay. But it’s also sad in its own right.

Dear one, you don’t have to hold on to who you used to be back in the “good ol’ days” because there are plenty of those ahead of you. Remember fondly, reminiscence shortly, cry sometimes, but remember to keep your head up high for all those places that are dying to get to know you, the places where you don’t have to keep explaining who you were for them to find you cool. Because they are the places that will see you for who you are now and you get older from here on out together. Will they sometime forget you? Maybe, but that’s okay. It’s another beautiful mental image to carry around and remember whenever you feel like you might need to. But not because now is not enough; because what used to be was also enough then. And they can be beautiful together.

some people think self-esteem is a non-biblical subject. i disagree. that is not to say i encourage unhealthy focus on oneself because i genuinely know how terrible that can get. but scripture teaches us to “think of yourself with sober judgment, in accordance with the faith god has distributed to each of you.” (romans 12:3). this was just a slight side note to get the confession started.

also, i must mention that the writing time for this confession is the night after my last. i have a few time references in there, so i wanted to make it a little clearer for you. it’s not fresh in the sense that i shared it the moment i wrote it, but it is because i wrote it the moment it happened. so just be aware of that as you proceed.

now to actually confess…i’ve been meaning to write about self-worth for a loooong time. i wrote a confession and then i rewrote and went over it about 7 times. and it still didn’t feet ready. something was missing. it felt like it had the right form but was missing the heart, the beating heart of rawness. and i’m certain this one will have it. cause it just happened.

i’ve already told you i’m not doing good. i didn’t know how not good i was doing until 6 minutes ago. after publishing my last article, i was very discouraged and hopeless. i’m not saying i’m much better now or anything, but my eyes can see clearly.

i did the most sensible thing someone in my situation could do and opened youtube… cause of course i did. and you will not guess what happened. this video came up and i have to leave the link for you to check it out if you want. the first two minutes i had my mouth literally open, my hand covering it and just listening in shock because i felt completely seen through, de-masked, basically naked. and then my eyes started watering the more i listened. because for the first time i was reprimanded, not victimized for one of my fundamental problems – i don’t think i’m good enough. it felt as if strong hands have lifted me off the ground and put me on the path that leads the right way. it felt like a cold shower that leaves you feeling warm (that actually happens for those of you who are not familiar with the feeling. i happen to take them often). i’m genuinely praising her for the attitude and firmness.

but going back to the issue, i’ve known i don’t consider myself good enough. and that might sound like an exaggeration, but it’s not. i have moments when i’m genuinely confident in my ability for a specific something, but that is very rare and not long-lasting. when i’m honest, i find myself inappropriate for anything. you know what i actually said in my head multiple times? i was trying to figure out why i always felt like i needed to do something whenever i went somewhere, why i always had to go the extra mile in everything i do and i surprised myself by drawing a conclusion that felt foreign – as if it came from outside myself – but true – because it was me who believed it: i’m only as good as i am useful. and that came as a shock, even for me. i didn’t pay it any mind, almost as if it were the right way to be. now that i say it and see it this way, i can tell it’s not okay, but when it’s in my head it simply sounds true.

and the crazy thing is she referred to that specifically. when she said “you are afraid of being truly known because what if when you finally stop performing no one stays?” i literally burst out sobbing. it broke something in me, something i’ve been trying to hold together without even realizing. it was as if for the first time i could see the picture and how distorted it looked, how unreal and inauthentic it was. it was as if the spell was finally broken. i didn’t think that my problems right now had anything to do with self-esteem. i was wrong. i wouldn’t have broken down like that had it not been a present problem; honestly, it’s more of an underlying problem, there all the time. and i could see it for what it was.

if you’ve been reading my writing for a while, you will have come across what i wrote for my dad and brother and you might have noticed i never talked about my mom. that was and is for many reasons, but this time, i’ll share something. my mom comes from a really broken home and she was not loved or appreciated by her parents. i’m just trying to give context so that what i’m about to say makes sense and it doesn’t make her sound like a terrible person because she’s not. she’s been ripped apart and she can’t tell, so this hurt formed her over the years and hurt has this weird ability of being contagious. my point: my mom never loved me for me, it was only for what i did. or at least that’s what it always felt like. and the crazy thing is her principle was you get scolded for the bad things you do and we never say good things about what you do well because that’s simply expected of you. i did hear her say a few times that she’s proud of me, but i never believed her because i knew that was only true until i did something that she didn’t like or agree with. my mom’s affection was always conditioned. i had to be a good girl to enjoy her softness but even behaving didn’t mean you get the longer end of the stick. she could just be overly stressed or maybe you didn’t do as well as you thought you did. anyway, you get the idea.

and pearl, the girl talking in the video, referred to that as well, how it could be rooted in earlier relationships. and i knew that was it. i’ve always tried to soften the idea and not blame her. and i still don’t want to attack or humiliate her in front of you. i’ve forgiven my mother a long time ago, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t still consequences to what was. me writing this is not to accuse her; it’s simply to explain why what pearl said broke me so profoundly. i don’t believe i am enough because i never was.

and it’s not even just that. most of my friendships over the years have followed the same pattern. we’d get closer than acquaintances and then it stopped. i could never move past surface level stuff. it felt like i was always blocked by a slightly open door. just enough to see inside, but not enough to actually understand and be vulnerable. and i’m not blaming the others only. i have come to realize i’m very slow to open up as well. but the way it worked, at least in my understanding, was that i’d reach out hoping to connect only to be politely told to wait at the invisible door. it hurt every time. and it was always the same.

Whenever the pattern broke and someone was trying to connect with me first or more, i’d get scared. i can now see it was the unfamiliarity of it all. and once again, i’m not trying to paint myself as a sad little victim. i’m trying to own up to my wounds so that i can move past them.

the rest of the video was me sobbing uncontrollably like i haven’t in months (which for me is a long time). it kept hitting me, the truth of it all i mean. i couldn’t believe there were words that would so clearly describe what was going on in my aching heart and tired mind. but there they were, spoken loud and clear and unapologetically.

i told you this just last time, the fact that i write to be myself. i always thought i was being myself all the time. honesty is a very important value for me and i adhere to it all the time. for me that meant i was honest and open about everything. i was mistaken. i was hardly open even though i was honest most of the time. i simply didn’t talk about the sensitive things, kept them inside and then wondered why people relate to me so weirdly. that’s because they couldn’t guess who i truly was. but it was unintentional, which you can tell by the fact that i’m only now getting the fuller picture.

there was a particular incident that started a train of thought similar to this one two months ago, right before going to a camp. the week before the camp i was on vacation with my family and it was a very relaxing one. as the following week kept getting closer i started getting more and more nervous. that was normal for me because i get like that every time i have to do something new, but this was different. i felt so drained like i was incapable of dealing with people again. and once again a terribly scary thought was formed and it sounded impossible. i thought “i don’t want to do this because i don’t want to have to put on a mask again”. and that’s crazy cause i’ve always hated that “wearing masks” talk all everyone enjoys. i genuinely thought i was not like that. turns out i was wrong. the reason i was always so stressed and reluctant to meet new people or people in general was because i felt like i always had to censor myself or adapt so that i don’t take up too much space: not too loud (cause others should be heard first), not too flashy (cause why do you want all eyes on you?), not too talkative (cause nobody wants to hear my stories), not too quiet (cause how can they connect when you never say anything?), not too slow (cause the joke will not be funny the second time), not too intimidating (cause you’re not here to dominate the discussion, are you?), not too curious (cause what if they start thinking i’m interested in them in a different way?), not too… (fill in your blanks); not too much basically. and i couldn’t tell if i’d adapted well, if i’m understood, seen, or if i even have a right to that. it always felt like intense labor. and it’s crazy to me that i never thought of this before, that i never gave it a name, but it’s true, i didn’t. now i can see however. i was performing to be liked, appreciated, wanted, loved.

i haven’t figured out the chasing part that she talks about. i’m not saying it’s not applicable, i’m simply saying i’m yet to fully understand if that is true and in what way. i don’t think i’ve knowingly chased relationships that were hard to obtain. i tend to think i was immature about the way i handled them which then led to all the failures. i don’t think i wanted to get close to people specifically because they made themselves unavailable to me. but who knows? maybe that will be the next great discovery.

so, yeah. it’s not really a victory story yet. i’m not over the behaviors or beliefs that i mention here. i’ve barely come to form a more complete understanding of what is going on. how to fix it is to come. and the most interesting part is i could’ve seen the signs in other people so well. but since it was me, i just didn’t see it that way, i couldn’t tell cause i was looking probably too close. you need to take a few steps back from yourself to see these kinds of truths about your life. i’m glad this young lady appeared on my feed (i do think it was a gift from god to finally find a starting point to healing). i’m glad i can finally understand that i do believe i’m not good enough and that this is something to be worked on. but it’s somewhat liberating because even accepting that means i get to be a little more myself now than before. i’m not ready to put the performance behind. i am still extremely scared that being transparent is the equivalent of being alone forever in my case. i am still fighting the idea that love isn’t something you earn, that it’s something you simply give and receive without eliminating criteria (cause it’s not a freaking job application). i still don’t expect to be chosen, but the question remains…what happens when i stop performing for the badge of finally being good enough for someone?

what if instead of asking “what if i stop performing and no one stays?” i ask “what if i stop performing and someone does stay?”?

p.s.: to show that i’m trying to be more me, i allow myself to be experimental and i did something i never thought i would. i wrote without any caps. it’s a start and i’m happy to have done this. i think it was the perfect confession for this kind of experiment. not completely comfortable, but it’s a start. thanks for making it all the way here!

The reason I haven’t posted anything even after announcing I would was not exactly that I didn’t have time. I had some time and I did need to rest too, but I could’ve posted. I tried writing and started working on a few pieces, but I wasn’t exactly feeling any of them enough to post, not to mention none are actually ready.

The reason was it felt like a chore I had to get done. It’s been so long since I had written well enough to post and I was disappointed in myself for that. I’m not asking for pity, I’m just saying. Whenever I get like that, nothing seems good enough, especially not for other eyes.

Should I have been more consistent? Absolutely. Could I have? Not exactly, unless I had stuff written in advance and planned for it to be posted even when I didn’t have the time for it. It would have been the responsible thing to do, but you know what? That’s just not me, not in this case at least.

After I started writing I realized it was the only place where I felt like I could be myself with no judgement, limits or risks. Posting does create a bit of a risk, but all of you have been extremely kind, which I want to thank you for. The fact that 18 people interact with my writing and relate to it in some way is more than I could dare to ask for. So let me tell you again: thank you for staying here with me even though I was not true to my promise all the time. I really appreciate the encouragement as well. We’re like a little classroom of people learning about each other and growing and I think that’s beautiful. It truly makes my heart warm that you all think these pieces worthy enough of your attention and time.

Now back to what I was saying, writing was my only way of being completely transparent. And the crazy part was that I felt heard, truly heard in a way I have rarely felt. The fact that prompted me to begin writing was the multitude of ideas storming around my brain with no order or place. I felt like I needed to sort everything out, all the principles, the interesting facts, the crazy concepts I had discovered one way or another. Especially since I watch a lot of movies and series, there were so many things I liked and disliked, so many things to debate and understand, so many things to realize about the world and so many decisions to be made consequently. There was so much material and so little order, so little space. I’m sure there were some brilliant ideas in my head at some point. I grieve however many I have lost without even realizing. But I’m hopeful and excited to see all that are yet to have entered my messy brain space.

To put it simpler, writing felt like the perfect and only opportunity to talk about the thing sI don’t talk about, the things people rarely have time for or an interest in.

So then I write.

     I write to think.

           I write to talk.

                 I write to feel heard.

                      I write to be myself.

                           I write to just be.

That’s how I breathe and reorganize. But since it’s been so long since I’ve written, ideas are fighting for attention. I like them and want to pursue them, but there are so many and whenever I try, it just stops being interesting enough. There is too much going on and too little to say about it. I’m confused and a little disoriented.

I’ve watched some great, great, great series these past few weeks and all of them stirred something in me. I want to tell you want I have discovered and what I was feeling. I want to tell you how that impacted me. I want to talk about the busy but beautiful summer I had and amazing people I’ve met. I want to discuss all the pieces that are in what I call my “writing atelier”, all of those half-pieces and unended sentences and why they matter to me. I want to talk about the mind and perception. I want to explore the psychology of all that I see around me. I want to tell you how I feel like I know everything and nothing at all. I want to write about the universe and about me. I want to be able to once again feel inspired. I want a lot and that’s why nothing comes out.

I don’t know what to do about these things. I feel like there is value in them and I want to explore them, but it also feels like life is too much to make time for that again. On the one hand, I feel so blessed and privileged. I can really see God working in my life here, but at the same time I haven’t read my bible in weeks, maybe months, and I have no idea what I’m doing anymore. I don’t know if I should tell you about my failures. I already feel enough like one even without talking about it.

I don’t want to say the same thing again. I know some of you might be going through a rougher patch as well, but some of you aren’t. And didn’t we all hear the same things over and over? God is good. God is working. Trust God. Yeah, I get that in my mind, but the rest of me feels like a stranger. I can tell I am the one who put that distance in our relationship and I’m honestly not complaining because even so I could see how kind and patient he was with me. But that just makes it worse.

I feel like a disappointment. Will that give you comfort? Knowing that someone else goes through that too? Will this be another annoying voice among all others? I don’t know. And I’m sick of it. I don’t want to hear the same words again. I need to experience them. And I’m not saying that feelings should be the focus here, but clearly something ain’t working with just information. There’s gotta be more. There has to be another chance. And as I’m writing this I feel reassured that God won’t reject me, but scared that I messed up bad enough that eventually he will. Maybe not this time, but surely some time I’ll so something bad enough. You feel me? I know his character but I’m very confused about mine right now.

This is me being vulnerable. I didn’t even expect we’d get to that topic. I’ve been avoiding it in my mind like the plague. But it was bound to come to the surface eventually. I’m not good, I’m really not. I’m not doing terrible either, but it is bad.

Do I know what I should be doing? I think so, yeah. But will I do it? Honestly, probably not yet. I have this sick inclination to torture myself until I hit actual rock bottom. Maybe it’s a way of punishing myself or I might just be addicted to that great feeling when you are set free and restored from that dark place. But it’s wrong. Both are. That’s not how it should be.

But sometimes I just think about life and how little sense everything makes. There was even a comedian joking on this very subject. But it is crazy to think about all of these concepts that are integrated in our day to day functioning societally and personally and it doesn’t make sense. You have friends? What even is that? How is that something normal? We just at some point met people that we decided we wanted to know deeper and longer than others. That’s crazy. We eat and that turns to energy and fuel for our entire bodies that most of us don’t even properly understand actually.

Some people are happy and some are not. Some people exercise and others don’t. Some people party, some work, some read, some drink, some travel, some have a lot of money, some are famous, some are intelligent, some are sick, some are alone, some are broken, some are corrupt, some are are sitting alone in a campus room writing on their computer about how some people are and aren’t. That doesn’t make any sense. It feels so random and it’s much too complex to comprehend when you really think about it. So we don’t think about it, not most of the time that is.

I’m not nihilistic or anything. I do understand and still believe God’s got it all under control and I can peacefully sleep at night knowing that he takes care of all the things that I don’t understand or know and of all that I do understand and know. But that doesn’t mean things are going my way. It’s often so hard to trust God when plans are way off my track; most of the time I can’t even guess where this is going. Foes that mean it’s bad? No, not actually. But it feels off.

Once again, I do understand that me not reading my bible is making me so sad and confused, but at the same time, it is real. Whatever the cause, life is not making sense right now. I haven’t felt like this in so long I had forgotten how real it was once. It’s like getting hit by a truck and left on the pavement to bleed slowly. Or like sitting on the side of the road while it’s pouring and every car ignores you. Or like sitting on damp leaves on the ground of a chilly forest. Or like getting tied to a chair and left in a creepily lit room. There is such an overwhelming feeling of helplessness.

And what’s even worse is that I have people that care. And what if they read this and they start thinking that it’s their fault, that they are not doing enough when I’m actually the problem? I don’t know what I want to say, but I have to say something. It’s been too long and you deserve better. I should do better. And I will. But not quite yet.

I probably just needed a hug, but instead I’m here trying to write something hoping it makes more sense to you than it does to me. I wish I had something more or better to tell you. I don’t yet, but you are more than welcome to pray for me if you want. Thanks for making it here. I hope to have something more solid next time.

Do you do that too? I don’t mean an actual person. I mean that kind of Pinteresty vibe of love, the kind of love you wish for, the kind of surreal, impossible love that we all hope finds us someday.

This time I’m not trying to make this a lesson. It’s more of a reflection on a thing I think a lot of people experience, not just girls. Yeah, it might be more usual with us, but I’m sure it’s not exclusive.

It’s a weird feeling for someone who’s never experienced a real relationship. It’s dreamy and it makes you hope, but it also crushes your soul a little bit because it makes you realize no one ever thought of you that way…that someone might never even…

I’m not pessimistic. I mean I kinda am, but I’m not trying to be here. It’s just this flow of emotions that is inevitable. There are some songs that just make you want to be in love. For me, for example, Ordinary by Alex Warren sounds exactly how I imagine falling in love sounds like. That song makes me want to be in love. And then there are these songs that just sound like being in love or in a relationship. I confess I haven’t really listened to the lyrics closely, but Apocalypse by Cigarettes After Sex sounds that way to me. It creates a feeling of familiarity and fatality as well. It makes me feel as if we’re nearing the end of the world, but we’re ok, because we’ve got each other. *Whoever this we may be.* That’s the feeling this kind of songs elicit from me. They have a touch of sadness, but it’s so calm it’s almost impossible to be disturbed. It sounds right. Just how life is a combination of funny, pretty, sad, serious, angry, worrying events, this band’s songs create a similar feeling. It’s like you’re slowly drifting away, but you’re not scared because it’s expected. As if the room is slowly catching fire, but you are watching from the outside. Safe but sad. Disappointed but hopeful. Maybe I’m not making much sense. It’s all just feelings after all and that is very subjective, but, man, I love that feeling!

Yes, before you ask, I have been in love in my life and I’m not sure that it was ever reciprocated, but even if it was, it never came to anything. But the idea of love is just so beautiful, is it not? We all fall in love with love a little bit, I think. It’s pretty much impossible not to especially considering the kind of media we are exposed to all the time. Love is always the highest value, and I agree with that even though I think I might understand it a little bit differently than mainstream media. But that’s not the point here. The point is love is very attractive.

Picnic dates on sunny days, mountain hikes under clear skies, watching a movie together under blankets on rainy days, surprise kisses, warm hugs, loud laughs, inside jokes, knowing looks that are just for the two of you, coffee in the morning, goodbye kisses…ah, and so on…

How could you not fall for that? Honestly, it’s as attractive as something can be. Don’t we all just crave to be loved like that? I saw there is this trend going around where people post these super cute, romantic videos and caption them “may this love violently attack me” or some variation of that. I really get it. I kinda hope that myself sometimes when I dare to dream of love.

For me personally, romantic love has never really been on the table. For the most part, it’s because of how I look, and I really understand, I’m not everyone’s cup of tea. I’m not mad about that. Really. I’m just trying to say, it’s not something I could live, it’s something I’ve observed and learnt about from others’ experiences. And even so, I find it so very fascinating.

Doesn’t love just go so well with hot cocoa, a small sprinkle of rain and a chill song? Weird, but I find that to be the kind of aesthetic my love would be like. I love stability, regularity, reliability. I like being fun and spontaneous too, but that’s not default for me. Being me, it’s not been easy to understand and love love. I hated that I felt so attracted to being in love. And not once have I been the victim of falling in love with the idea of being with someone rather than said someone himself. Not great, but we get it, right? It’s just how it is for everyone out there. Some people realize that after being in a relationship, some while being in one, and some, not unlike myself, before that.

I have fallen in love with actual people as well. I was brought up with really sound standards as to what to expect from life, love and boys. But there are those days when I get a little courageous and being realistic is not the point anymore. There are days when I dream of love, of being in love, of dancing in the dark or running in the rain, of listening to music in a coffee shop or cooking dinner together. There are those days when asking “how was your day?” doesn’t feel a million miles away. On those days, smiles don’t feel forced, they feel optimistic and even realistic. On those days, butterflies are not something to regret, they are something to be enjoyed, something to be happy about because on those days it feels possible, it feels like it can actually happen. Those days have a weird glow to them, they are a little more colorful than usual, they feel regular but somehow spectacular. Those days make me feel brave and happy. There are these days when fantasy collides with reality in an almost believable way.

But there are just those days. Time is not usually so kind. Or maybe it’s me. Maybe I’m not being kind. Because there are those days when love feels cold and harsh, almost punitive. There are such days when being in love feels like a burden or a guaranteed disappointment. There are those days when you’re afraid to hope because it hurts. There are days when love is not at all attractive. On those days you look for ways out, you thank God you’re single or pray you would be. On those days, burdens cloud the sky of dreams. Because on those days reality feels too real and love, much too far away.

I hope you won’t get me wrong. I don’t see love as some kind of drug, even though I know others have associated the two. I think it is as much rational and volitional as it is emotional. But you see, love makes things a bit different. It helps you see things in new lights, lights that are not visible to the eye clouded by reality. There is this craziness in love that provides opportunities otherwise invisible.

I know being in love and love are not the same thing. You can only be in love for so long and that feeling fades away. Yeah, that’s when real love steps in. And it’s not clear skies, picnic dates and cute kisses, it’s genuine hard work. It’s asking “how was your day?” and actually listening patiently. It’s cleaning the dishes even if you don’t feel like it. It’s saying “thank you” even when you’re mad. It’s choosing a hug over an argument. It’s having that difficult talk. It’s hearing and caring even when you feel like you’re about to explode because “he just doesn’t get it” or because “she always makes it about herself”. It’s hard. For real.

What I just named are a few of the things I thought of but there are obviously some even more serious issues that inevitably appear. Why? Because we’re different as men and women, because we were brought up in different families and environments, because we don’t understand the world in the same way, because we have similar needs that are met in different ways. Because it’s just not the same person. Commitment is costly.

And please don’t come for me for saying this, but I think it’s also so beautiful. I don’t mean that as pleasant or pretty looking. I mean that as inspiring. Facing all those things and choosing to stick together is the kind of thing that makes me dream of love, of real, committed, unapologetic love.

The realest kind of love is the love that fails but doesn’t give up. The love that stays. The love that makes us hope and dream, the love that gives light to ordinary and otherwise terrible days.

It’s the stability, the commitment, the vulnerability, the choice. That’s what makes love even more attractive to me. Those of you who have already walked this path will probably have a bittersweet expression on your face. It really hurts, doesn’t it? Losing that makes you feel hollow and humiliated. I have been heartbroken even though I never got to be in a relationship. I’ve been told I wear my heart on my sleeve. I guess that’s true, but I still can’t help myself. It’s a lesson to be learnt in all of this of course. I don’t have to be stupid about it, but also, hope, dude! Dream of love again! It’s not dead.

The very Being that is Love is alive and we have access to the most beautiful love to ever exist, but I mean even more that that. I mean even with other people. Romance isn’t dead. Sure, there are a lot of manipulators and people trying to take advantage of others, but I genuinely believe there are good people out there. People who dream of love the same way I do. The kind of people that are willing to learn from their mistakes, people willing to compromise and bend so that love works.

Choosing love will mean making changes that are otherwise unnecessary. It’s not that it’s something wrong with you, but in order for love to work, you just gotta change and choose again and again to stay and make it work.

There is much more to be said about the greatest idealization in our modern world. But I just mean to say:

Isn’t love so beautiful sometimes? It just makes you want to fall for it again. It might break your heart and you know it, but it’s just so, so, so hard not to say yes. There are those days when fantasy doesn’t feel wrong and when dreaming feels like endless possibilities.

You do have days like that, don’t you…?

No, I haven’t died and yes, technically I’m still writing, but I haven’t lately. It’s been too long and I’m not proud of myself for not keeping my word. I also should have let you know. I don’t even have a good excuse. And yeah, I don’t have a long confession today, but it is about a very significant change in my life. So, now that we are back at it, let’s dive right in.

I have some rather BIG news:

I’m moving back home!!!

Yep, back to that stuffy apartment (if you catch my first confession reference)… That’s insane!

I really wanted this. I knew I wanted to change my job for a while now. But the thing is over the last three months (save for the time I’ve been home) I started feeling really stuck. Like there is no more place to grow, to evolve, to become better, different. Now, of course the whole thing could be changed if I change the circumstances here, but that’s gonna take time. I need to breathe now.

I’ve been praying about this particular matter since December and, while I was at home, everyone I met asked me if I’m not considering coming back. My grandma asked me before, but not people in church and friends. This was the first indicator, but I let it sit there to see if it meant anything. My own desire, which was born around November, and which kept growing until now, was another pointer in this direction. The last missing piece was when I finally found a master’s that I actually want to study. It’s in Bucharest, close to home. I looked here too, but it just didn’t click. The moment I saw that program though, it literally made a clicking sound in my mind. I knew it was it. So, take all the latent want and combine it with actual reason to leave other than that I don’t like my job anymore and you’ve got me leaving Oradea for good.

It still sounds crazy to my ears whenever I say I’m leaving. Don’t get me wrong, I’m super excited about it and I’m 100% sure it’s the right thing to do, but it’s the place where I spent my last 4 years. A lot has happened and now that leaving is set in stone, I’m starting to experience a lot of lasts.

Last time I see downtown…

Last time I eat here…

Last time I travel here…

Last time I see them…

You know, there is that melancholic feeling that makes the sweet memories bitter. It had to happen. I’m glad to have experienced so many great things that I would have a lot to miss, but you know, that also makes it painful to say goodbye. I anticipated it, but I’m not sure that I’m ready. I don’t think one can ever truly be ready for that. The moment to say goodbye comes and you just have to.

When you have to leave a place you’ve been in for as long as I have, it feels a bit… unfair eventually. Our lives revolve around ourselves and we like being valued and appreciated obviously. When you’re ready to leave a place there is this desire that appears, the desire to be missed. You want to know that you mattered enough so your absence would be felt. We all want to know we had an impact on others’ lives because then we know we were valuable enough.

It’s a weird felling. I know I want to leave, but as time goes by, I become much more aware of all the things I’m losing if I leave and all the unpleasant responsibilities I’ll be taking on. It’s scary just in the sense that I’m a much too comfortable individual. I know it’s the right thing to do, but it’s still sad leaving. It’s been quite a long time since I’ve had such an emotionally charged experience. The crazy part is I haven’t been feeling much about it and I’m starting to realize why. I closed myself off because I guess somewhere subconsciously I thought it might be too painful to live the full range of emotions it entails.

To be fair, I don’t think I should be depressed all the time I have left just because I’m leaving, but I think I might’ve really shut the feelings down this time. If there is any emotion that I know like the back of my hand, that is melancholy. Might be part of why I kept it on the down low. But to be honest, I’m not so sure that sounds like me. I don’t do that. I never not feel my feelings. Yeah, I try to drown them off, but not completely push them out of the way to the point I don’t even experience them anymore.

It's quite a dilemma. Now that I’m thinking about it like this, it might be that I kept myself a little too off the real world. I have been living in alternative worlds a lot lately. Between Criminal Minds, American Housewife, YouTube, Netflix games and all the other types of content out there…I’ve been quite off reality. Was it wise? Absolutely not! But still, it was a choice I had to live with now.

As I was battling this weird tension between feeling like I needed to feel more and not actually feeling it, do you know what my dad said? So beautiful! He said “you’re allowed to suffer” and if it was just that, it would’ve been very sweet, but ordinary. He knew the whole thing would sting, but then he didn’t end there. He continued with “and then you’re allowed to stop suffering”. Simple words, but they really hit me! Yes, it is painful to leave things and especially people behind, but then you don’t have to let yourself get broken by that. You can feel the hurt, but you are allowed to stop hurting too. It doesn’t mean the people didn’t mean enough or that you didn’t love them, but that there is a limit to the brokenness to maintain yourself and move forward. I think I felt so guilty about not feeling things so intensely this time because I knew I would’ve been hurt if I found out the people I cared about wouldn’t be hurt to see me leave. But the truth is no one benefits if we all fall apart. So, I believe me having a little less intense feelings about it up to this point is not the worst thing I could do to these people. I care about them. I will miss them. I will remember them with sighs. But I will also move on and enjoy this new side of my life. I’m curious to discover who I am when I’m not here anymore. Who is this Kate that moves back in with her parents? Who is she when she starts a master’s? Who will she become taking care of her grandfather?

Who will I be in this new era?

P.S.: I will have a second part coming to this confession because I gotta let you know how things are going after I got home, so stay tuned!

I have been going through some changes that I’m super excited to tell you about, but I can’t right now. I just can’t decide on how to go about this, but I will. I promise. I’m not giving up. I have every intention to take up writing seriously again, but I will after things get sorted out a bit. Sounds reasonable?

I’ll see you next month! 😘

Substack recommended me some articles I might be interested in a few days ago and the first title caught my eye was “what women don’t understand about men”. I was like, “sure, tell me what I don’t understand.” It wasn’t sarcasm, it was curiosity. And I came stumbled upon one of the most beautiful pieces of writing. I don’t recall having ever experienced it before, but I kept wishing it wouldn’t end, that it would just go on and on and on. The message itself was honest and vulnerable, but the way it was said moved something in me, it pulled at the strings of my heart. I wish I could coherently explain exactly what it was that it did to me, but I can’t. I was just fascinated. It felt like my heart tingled and I was in a state of what I would now call a revery.

Gor, the author, made a very strong first impression on me and, as I kept reading other pieces (like next time we talk, you’ll talk, i’ll listen), the beauty didn’t fade. I just love his artistry in writing. It is a kind of thing that I deeply resonate with. I never knew I craved something so personal, so raw, yet so poetically wrapped that you get lost in the beauty of it, finding yourself back at the end. The more I read, the more I love it.

Sure, not all of our values coincide, but that’s not a problem, it’s something to be explored and I love it, every minute of it. I have never done this before and I’m not sure that I will again, but I must recommend that you check his articles and poems out. His wording is exquisite. That’s how I perceive it at least. I know it’s not for everyone and I’m sure not all individuals will see in it the same beauty I do, but it made me experience something I hardly ever did… I was “drunk” on the beauty of art. The message, the phrasing, the pace, the style, the emotion, the honesty, even the choice of ending sentences where they did…everything felt right.

But that came at a price. While I was being swept off my feet by a stranger’s words, I started doubting my own. I was so fascinated by what he did that it started feeling like I could never express myself as well now. I had seen something I didn’t even know I desired and now I had to go back to writing my own sentences that might not be as well paced as his, my own ideas that might not resonate as well as his did. I had to craft my own way forward, but it felt like I didn’t know how to anymore. I started doubting myself.

But then, my bestest friend read a confession of mine (Why change when you can be comfortably miserable?) and even though she doesn’t particularly like this style of writing, she teared up. I was moved. I was encouraged that there are still things to say. I might never impact others the same way Gor impacted me, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t have any effect at all.

My sentences will have their own pace. My word choices will carry their own weight. My ideas will resonate with their people. Artistic experiences like this are rare and I’m grateful for having had it, but I choose to move forward with hope and another beautiful experience in my repertoire.

In my confusion, trying to process all of this, I started looking through some files I had on my Drive and came across a folder with “Notes”. These are things I wrote back when I didn’t “officially” write, yet. I had a “merry christmas to me” (misleading title…) and a “SCREW YOU” (please excuse the language, but I was going through a really rough patch back then – my first heartbreak), but what caught my eye was a document I named “How to tune one’s soul”. This is the most confession-like thing I wrote back when I didn’t even know I resonated with something like this. I just wrote whatever went through my head. The title definitely promises more than the text delivers. It’s sloppy, and it’s exaggeratedly paradoxical; I loved being vague and metaphorical. I thought it made everything sound more interesting, cooler. But there is truth in what I thought back then. There is encouragement woven through even if it’s not very masterful. It is something I wrote probably about two-three months before finishing college. I thought I’d share it with you.

And I know I preached about the art of moving on, but I feel like I have to go back for a moment, to find some support in what I already created so that I can find the words to continue. My perception on the ideas themselves has changed. If I were to write with the same metaphor in mind now, it would look very different, but there is a beauty in seeing how I’ve changed. If you’ve been reading a bit of what I write, you will probably be able to spot what is similar and what isn’t. Either way, I thought it might be a fun read, maybe even an encouraging read. For me it was a tad cringy, but even if that’s what you think, I’m fine with it. Think your own thoughts about it. Experience it your way.

“Did you know sunsets actually have a direct connection to one’s soul? Or is it just me? I’m pretty sure we can all agree that they are much more than just pretty colors in the sky. They vibrate to the frequency of our souls. Can you imagine just sitting on the rooftop of a big building and watching the whole city spread below you like a chaotic chessboard? The dim lights make it look bearable since you can’t figure out the details anymore. But you can still see the pawns frenetically running through the streets, the knights in shining armors advancing with every green light and the king slowly falling asleep. It is exactly because he gets sleepy at this hour that we get the beautiful painting in the sky. The queen is ready to take on her role soon enough.

I find the complementarity of the sun and moon to be inspiring. It is exactly because of this harmony that we get to enjoy the sunset. It is them coming to terms with each other, handling over duties and trusting each other to do what they can’t for the moment. Isn’t that just lovely? I would think so as I watch the sunset.

The wind is cold even though it’s summer. I absolutely love that. I think it’s the perfect fit for the landscape in front of my tired, puffy eyes. The chilling sensation on my skin is refreshing while my soul gets warmer. Suffering has the tendency to drain one out, but sunsets always defy that. No matter how upset, sad, angry, confused, frustrated, lost or lonely you feel, the slowly dying light of the sun manages to tune your soul to healing. It works without fault for me at least. You might think that I find this reassuring and beautiful and you would definitely be right to some extent, but there is a catch. When I do feel that down in the dumps, I find it very annoying that the sunset is so beautiful and peaceful. I get angry at the cool wind brushing against my skin. I want to argue with the beauty in front of me. It just feels so unfair that it gets to be so fine while I can’t seem to piece myself back together!

While I struggle to accept and make peace with it, the lights get even dimmer and night closes in. I lost my chance to heal. The lights are out now, and the night hides me… but it never heals me. Hiding in the dark might do some good, but it definitely doesn’t work the way I want it to. Concealing isn’t healing, after all. Gosh, how sad I am! What am I even supposed to do with this suffocating emotion. They say I should just not live according to my feelings, but how do you do that really? I’m having a really hard time going against my very nature. You know how melancholics are…we always have something to be sad about even in happy moments.

Another thing I like about the sunset is that it’s a border line. Crossing it either way leads to a completely different period – either day or night, but the sunset is the perfect middle ground where there is neither full light, nor entirely dark. I happen to be standing on a border line myself, but that is life-wise. Finishing college is much more boring and sadder than I ever anticipated. I guess there really are no special occasions in life, just events we care about more or less. Mostly I am regretful over my youth. Yes, you will say I am too young to be talking like that, but the truth is that is exactly what it feels like. I never make enough of anything. You can’t. I know that now and it’s just so desolating. I hoped to make the happy moments even more worthy of remembrance. Guess that’s not happening, huh?

Have you ever had that feeling that there is a song that describes way more than just words could? Have you ever found yourself more in a song than in your own consciousness? I have, quite a few times at that even. It’s weird in a pleasant way. Oh, by the way, could you tell that I love paradoxes from everything that I blabbered about up to now? There is quite a “scientific” reason for that. I am one myself. I run on paradoxes and extremes. Remember the saying that extremes attract each other? Well that definitely seems to be the case in my life. I am hot and cold, I’m yes and I’m no, just like Katy Perry once put it. But at the same time, I’m loyal to people and responsibilities. I burn myself out for the sake of others and then I somehow find myself to be… horrendously selfish? How can that even be? Great question indeed…I’m still figuring it out as I get to experience new things.

There is a constant in all this mess though, that is, people. Be it suffering, stress, sadness, or anger, or on the contrary healing, peace, happiness, or calmness, they are always, and I mean without exception, related to some person in my life. Most of the time it’s just a layering of events and people contributing to my states. Unfortunately, most times the bad people have a deeper impact on the short run than the good ones, but, man, do I have some awesome people in my life! I don’t need much. I’m good with my handful of close people. Not to say that I need no one else ever, but they are definitely the foundation to me staying somewhat stable mentally. Other people create contexts in which I can manifest and know myself better. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not really all about self-development, but I am all about self-knowledge. I want to know what I feel, why I feel it and how it affects me in the bigger picture. I want to learn empathy.

One thing I would love more than probably anything in this world would be to get to live others’ lives for short periods of time. That would be awesome. I want to see how celebrities struggle, how rich people are lonely and how men fight their way through this tough life. I want to understand it all. I want to grasp even the smallest details. I want to see what it is like outside my head… But not really as you can tell already. Since I still want my authentic self to register the other experiences. They are only meant to improve this self’s understanding. I guess I do like me better than I thought.

Speaking of which, curious about my latest discovery? Either way, if you’ve made it this far through this anarchy, I guess you will be. I realized that flaws are what make relationships effective for the imperfect beings that we are. It is only through them that we get to become better and grow together. It is hard times that create ties and challenges help us bond with each other. Definitely not new information, but it was new in the way I perceived it. For the first time I thought that the difficulties I anticipate someone will have with me might actually be beneficial to him and our relationship.

The conclusion…we don’t really do that here since this text is only a record of a few hours’ stream of consciousness. Enjoy the sunset! The border is a beautiful place to be in. You can be both pleasingly melancholic about what has been and fearfully hopeful for what is to come. Such a bitter-sweet experience, such a calming, but hurtful place to be, such a sunset! And us…we are very much like sunsets too. We have many nuances to us and can be different depending on who is watching, as well as when and where they stand relative to us. Some call it a prism, some name it a multi-faceted diamond…I call it a sunset. At the core, we are very sunsety really. I believe that is why so many people find so much comfort in this moment of time. It’s like hearing a future version of yourself advise and calm you. It’s just the perfect way to heal and get better. Sunsets are very much like mirrors…I think that may be why some really hate it. It shows them too clearly who they are and who they could be. The harmony, the musicality of the picture is so beautiful that it can annoy, just like I confessed earlier. Sunsets just hold that power.

You feeling in any possible way? Just take a few minutes to absorb this brief window of healing. It is probably the most powerful tool to heal…that is secondary to people [and God], I mean. There is nothing that can ever beat the effect of a healthy relationship with a level-headed person, but sunsets just have a magic touch on human souls. They seem to work surprisingly over the tuning of one’s soul. Interesting argumentation, right? Convincing? …meh, a bit I guess, but it should resonate with your soul. If it does, then I did even more than I could dream of when I embarked on this journey of confessing my sudden discovery. And remember, even in heartbreaks and hopelessness, sunsets are still freely accessible! And, yes, crying is encouraged to heal as the beautiful landscape spreads in front of your tired and puffy eyes, on the rooftop of the big building, with the city slowly adapting to night. And who knows? …since we are on the same rooftop, we might even get to cry together and heal as we watch the perfect representation of our sufferings and hopes. <3”

I was actually quite surprised by what I chose to say and how I did it. If I could choose such ideas and words during a time I didn’t even know what I was doing, then there is plenty of hope for the future. I’m not lost or anything, just a bit disoriented and scattered. For that reason, I used the support of old writings…

I tried to make sense of this experience that was so special and new and this is what I came to. Art is beautiful and I really love that word. I think it does art true justice; it has such a poetic ring to it for me. I love reading what Gor writes just like I hope others love reading what I write. I will definitely continue. I can’t imagine my life without writing anymore, it’s like my soul’s breath. It’s mandatory for my overall health I think :) Sooo, no backing down for sure. But I still have to work through this period. It might be a combination of factors – it most probably is – but I love that I could experience this.

Today’s confession was a bit of a compilation, but I hope you could still follow along.

See ya soon!

goransh's substack

a journey through quiet battles, inner worlds, and the art of becoming.

H i i i !

It’s a sheepish greeting.

I know I’ve taken way too long to write here. There are a few excuses I could use, but I don’t think that’s very helpful for you… or me. The idea for this confession has been in the back of my mind for weeks really, but I just couldn’t bring myself to actually write it. To be honest, I didn’t know what to write per se. I knew what the title would be and I knew what experience it was connected to, but the rest was blank for a long while.

Another thing I want to share with you is that I started writing about two weeks ago. I only got to finish it now though. The first half is written somewhere in the midst of the problem and the ending is written after it happened. Ok, so let’s jump into it!

I don’t know about you, but I found myself in vicious cycles these past weeks (…months if I’m being honest). What does that mean? After being home for a while, things started getting more and more comfortable and I got to do a lot of things that I enjoyed, not bad things initially, just things I really liked, things that made me comfortable. As time went by these not-bad things became more and more like a prison. We all know that once you get comfortable it’s hard to get out of that place, especially voluntarily. And in that context, sin started creeping in.

I became a dopamine junkie. Putting personal pleasure above everything else means above my relationship with God too. So, reading the bible, praying, going to church, these things just didn’t appeal to me anymore. They sounded like a rule to be followed instead of a relationship to invest into.

But I was very aware of it, so what happened is I had a kind of conversation, brief and vague, with God where I just said something like:

Look, I know that what I’m doing is not the right thing to do and I kinda know what I should be doing, but if I’m being honest, I don’t really care right now. I know that this means I’m rejecting you, putting you in the back seat, keeping you at arm’s length, but I want to do this. I want to live in my comfortable bubble and I want to not have to think about you all the time and feel that I’m doing something wrong, I just want the freedom to do what I want for a while. I know I’ll regret it, but I’ll deal with that then and I know this is wrong, but I’m going to do it anyway.

I never waited for a response; it was really a statement, not a conversation. I wouldn’t have cared what it would have been anyway because I knew what I wanted: I wanted to do things my way and be free of the “restraints” of Christian living. It felt genuinely liberating for a while. I experienced regret every now and then, but I kept going. It felt good and I was doing my own thing without anyone whispering I’m not doing the proper thing. I’m not sure what you might imagine that means, but it’s not really so much about what I chose to do – because they were not all bad things –, it was more about the attitude. I had no reason to be tired and I was really nicely cared for throughout, but I just felt like I couldn’t breath spiritually anymore and I just needed a break. So I took it.

Like I said, it was awesome for a while. I was enjoying myself. But the reality of the choice I made crept in every once in a while. At first I just said I’d deal with it later…but as time went by, I started to realize I don’t think I can deal with it anymore. They were fleeting thoughts, but I sometimes realized what a big jerk I was to God, turning him down, turning my back on him, and I started feeling like I don’t deserve to fix things now. I was too far gone and there was no way I could make up for the time I had lost, the time I had used irresponsibly. So, what I decided to do was continue to ignore it, pretending like the problem isn’t there. It worked only partly because the weight of it all was growing on my shoulders.

There were a few times when I decided to sit down with God again and just tell him what I had done and say that I’m sorry. It didn’t really work… I didn’t really mean it. I wasn’t sorry for what I had done. I was sorry they were not what I should have been doing when I wanted them to be. So, nothing happened.

While this spiritual turmoil was happening, I also started experiencing emotional distress. The thing is, there was only so much I could do a whole day in front of the computer. There were creative endeavors, and I loved them, there were relaxation things, funny things, entertaining things…but they all fade away at some point. You reach a point where a number of activities does not respond to your needs anymore. We all need contact with others, and I had little of that; we need to go outside, and I didn’t do that; we need good rest, and I slept chaotically; we need proper nutrition, and I didn’t give attention to it; we need responsibility, and I hardly assumed any. Bottom line is, I was not doing the things that are necessary for a balanced life, but I was doing a lot of those that threw me off that balance.

So, I was comfortable in a sense, but I was also very miserable. It wasn’t ideal, but it is somewhat sustainable. It wasn’t all good, but it was partly good and it’s not like the Christian lifestyle was much different. I felt terrible during those times too and I was struggling but also felt good at times. It didn’t really seems like much of a difference, so I started asking myself: Is it worth it trying to mend this? And if so, why?

The answer didn’t come to me for a while.

I waited and I prayed a little bit. It felt like I needed motivation to try again. I had abandoned God, but I wanted Him to prove to me that He’s worth coming back to. Well, actually… the truth is I felt so worthless I was sure there was no way He would take me back. Sure, grace covers all and we can’t sin as much as God can forgive…. yeah… I knew that, I had heard it, but I couldn’t believe it anymore.

And that’s where the magic started happening. It started slowly and very subtly. I had subscribed to this guy, Jake YuJune, on YouTube that makes Christian videos a while back and suddenly I started getting notifications about what he was posting. To me it really seemed like I had not gotten a notification before this time, but maybe I was just inattentive. Anyway, the point is that they came almost every day. And the titles started speaking to me. They were encouraging but convicting. The feeling that I got was that God started speaking to me personally. As if He was poking me in the side like “I’m not gone, even if you disappointed me”. I also have a widget on my phone home screen that displays the verse of the day from YouVersion. They started getting more and more specific too about the things I was fighting. There was an interesting combination of reminders of love and verses of conviction that allowing sin into your life is a choice and it has serious consequences, but it always had a glimpse of hope. It made me think that maybe there is a way out, maybe I have not yet reached the ends of grace, maybe, just maybe there was still something to do about my situation.

But God still gave me space. He didn’t force Himself on me, He just started making His presence felt again in my distress. Around this time, I started going back to church too. I can’t say that the messages felt particularly personal to me, but what helped was reconnecting with people. They weren’t my closest friends or anything, but just meeting people, smiling at them and them smiling back stirred something in me. It gave me hope that maybe the isolation I had felt trapped in wasn’t all impossible to overcome.

I still did not read my bible during this time and prayer was rather sporadic, not really something I insisted upon, just more of an instrument I went to every once in a while, hoping that something will happen eventually. I really needed something to happen to me or in me or something like that, something that felt like outside of me, something that would “compel” me to change.

The biggest problem I had, I think, was that I didn’t exactly feel guilty anymore. I was guilty about the state I had come to be in, but not about the sin itself. And then it happened. One day, I did something I didn’t think I ever would. And then I felt it, that overwhelming sensation that it was wrong, that I was wrong. The next day I tried to drown it with things and it worked for the most part. Until night came again. I was so overcome with guilt that I couldn’t sleep. I wanted to cry, but just couldn’t. I didn’t feel like I had the right to. So, I sat there on the bed looking at the ceiling in the dark.

That night I tried to remember the truth that I always preached to others, I tried to remind myself that there is forgiveness for anything and everything, that Jesus has already paid it all and that I could be restored because of what He did, regardless of what I did. But it just didn’t work. My heart was heavy, my eyes open wide and my mind spiraling. But I finally had an idea, why not go back to Scripture instead of trying to remember ideas about forgiveness? Why not check again for myself what God said about forgiveness? But then another problem arose. Where do I find those scattered verses? So, I did what any human in my situation would do: I asked ChatGPT for verses when you feel like you’re unforgivable. And I just read through them. It gave me courage and I realized I needed more. I knew I wanted and needed to pray for forgiveness, but none of my words seemed truthful, they all felt stained and distorted. So, the next prompt was “what are some psalms about repentance?” It gave me a few options. I knew psalm 51 was the most famous repentance psalm, so I wanted to try another one. I read two, but they didn’t really capture what I wanted to say, so finally I gave in and turned to psalm 51. I read it out loud. And for the first time in too long a while, I meant it. Some tears fell, though not as many as I would have expected. And I experienced it again, the sense of peace that comes from forgiveness. Even now when I think about it, I don’t feel guilty. It’s not mine anymore – it is washed away by the blood of my Savior.

And as far as inspiring stories go, this is perfect so far. But the thing is I didn’t die yet. Thus, two days after this big redemptive moment, I sinned again in the same way. I was devastated. I thought I had a breakthrough, and I fell short again. What was I doing with myself? And I had to remember that forgiveness covers all shortcomings, even the redos and the agains and the not-quite-yets.

Am I done? Of course not. I know it wasn’t my last battle. I am aware I will sin plenty more before the Lord calls me home and I know I will regret all of them, but I also know the depth of forgiveness and how much it can cover. I turned my back on God willingly and He still held His hand out and met me where I was. He was the one who lifted me up when all I did was play in the mud of my own misery. He loved me when I couldn’t even bear to look at myself anymore. I was a huge jerk and God didn’t disown me.

But let’s be so for real for a moment. Am I not being a little too dramatic about all of this? I mean, wasn’t it ok though? Why shouldn’t you do this? Cause the truth is experiences like these really help you see God in a different light and His power shines through, his grace overwhelms and his love humbles. So why not do this as a way of getting the best of both worlds, right? We get the freedom to indulge however we want and then come back to God and experience the riches of His forgiveness. Sounds like a pretty sweet deal, but it’s deceitful, just like all the pleasures of sin are deceitful. They are real but perverted and the price is much higher than advertised. Somebody once said that sin will take you farther than you’re willing to go, keep you longer than you’re willing to stay and cost you more than you’re willing to pay. And I can vouch for that. I decided I wanted to adopt this mentality that I knew was wrong form the start, thinking it might not be as big a deal or that even if it was, I could deal with the consequences…spoiler: It was a huge deal and I couldn’t.

(Slight tangent: If you want to talk to someone because you’re struggling with the same things, feel free to hit me up.)

I decided that putting myself first and all of my old nature’s desires was a good idea. It was a horrible idea! Just like all muscles get weak when not used for a while (something I know more about than I ever expected), spiritual muscles weaken when you let go of the armor of God. Getting out of the battle is NOT an option. And I’m not saying that metaphorically. You literally do not get out of the spiritual battle as long as you are alive, but the devil will try and deceive you that laying down your armor is the equivalent of getting out. IT’S NOT. It simply makes you a very easy target. God is fighting for you, but you have to let Him do that. You have to stay on His side of the battlefield. He will go to the ends of the earth for you… He got me back, but it’s a really terrible thing to make God do. He offers anything and everything we could ever desire. Don’t run away from Him!

But honestly, don’t take my word for it. God knew we would be inclined to do stuff like this, so Paul addressed it directly in Romans 6:

¹What shall we say, then? Shall we go on sinning so that grace may increase? ² By no means! We are those who have died to sin; how can we live in it any longer? ³ Or don’t you know that all of us who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? ⁴ We were therefore buried with him through baptism into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life.

See, dear one, in Christ we are a new creation with new desires, with new understandings, with new life. Sin will always appeal to our old nature and Paul himself recognized that tension in Romans 7:

¹⁸ For I know that good itself does not dwell in me, that is, in my sinful nature. For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. ¹⁹ For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing.

So, yes, sin will call, and we will unfortunately answer many times, but we must never allow ourselves to dwell in sin. God gave us freedom even from ourselves. We are not slaves to our desires anymore. We are free to choose godliness. We won’t be able to all the time of course, but we must try and fight the urge to become slaves again to the ways of the evil one. Sometimes we are the evil one, tempting ourselves to think that we don’t need God anymore, that we can do better without Him or that He is better kept at a distance. Compromises don’t work in the spiritual world though. It’s either or. And if you’re not with God, you’re definitely against Him.

It's not a fight I’ve mastered, but I’m relearning that it’s not really my fight anyway. As a child of God, He is fighting for me and another spoiler for y’all: GOD WINS. The war is won, but we must choose to act in battle with that information in mind. We must be victorious in Christ, with Christ, through Christ because we already are.

Ok, you might say, how do I do that? You don’t. It’s not something that is in your power to do. All you must and can do is stay close to the One that can. Paul’s solution to the dilemma of spiritual struggle comes right after the passage I quoted from Romans 7; in verse 25 he says, “Thanks be to God, who delivers me through Jesus Christ our Lord!” So, it is Him who does the delivering. Just allow yourself to be delivered. Surrender to Him! Let Him do what He does best. Trust Him and stay close. He’s got you. He loves you much more than you could ever comprehend.

If you’re struggling with sin too, regardless of the nature of it, know that repentance is the ONLY option. But the beauty is it’s not only an option, it’s a promise: “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.” (1 John 1:9)

God answers honesty. If you want help, He will offer it. He met me even before I knew I actually wanted to change. I wouldn’t have vouched for my sincerity and He still decided to love me. There is no holding back from Him because He’s simply that wonderful. Fighting alongside God is not exhausting as long as you keep your eyes focused on the right “Thing”. Whenever you focus on other things more, the cruel reality of the battle overwhelms. But don’t lose hope! God has such a kind way of turning your eyes back on Him. Just let Him.

Why be comfortably miserable when you can be changed into the image of Love Himself?

Do you ever get in the mood to be sad?

I know it’s kind of a stupid question. You don’t want to get sad ever, only…what if you did? What if there were those days that begged for you to be moody? Don’t you ever get that? I certainly do. Just today I woke up somewhat flustered. I dreamt a lot last night. I can’t remember anything, but I can recall it was long. It made reality feel strange and forced when I woke up. This is a day that begs for sad music and moody vibes, like an autumn aesthetic when you get trapped outside without an umbrella. It’s nice and refreshing, but…wet and uncomfortable.

You know me, I write. Lately I’ve been writing quite a lot. It’s my way of breathing, of airing my heart if you will. I can’t even believe it took me so long to figure it out, but there is sure at least one downside to that.

Allow me to clarify. I’ve confessed before that I’m not one for writing fiction and I still somewhat stand by that. It’s beautiful, but the need for polishing chips away at the authenticity of emotion, something these confessions abound it contrastingly. However, I recently started a project where I do get to write fiction, and I discovered I love that too. There is a natural appeal in it now that I gave it a try. It challenges me, it entertains me, and it makes me want to discover more of the story myself, as if I’m reading it for the first time. But…spending your time with characters can make real life tricky.

I am a very empathetic person. One of the reasons I resonate with cinema so much is particularly my ability to live each story as my own. That is also the main reason I enjoy stories in general, regardless of form. Like I said, the beauty of getting to discover my own story and getting to know my own characters makes writing feel surreal, very attractive, immersive…too immersive.

When you start living in your head for too long, reality starts making less and less sense; it becomes more of a painful burden to be endured rather than a bittersweet clump of things to be experienced. Yeah, and that’s exactly how it’s been for me. I love stories, but they are much too powerful to be taken lightly. There always has to be a healthy balance between what’s real and what isn’t. Escaping to a fantastic world is good and desirable every once in a while, but being too cut off will affect one’s ability to perform in the real world. Now, my case is rather particular. I am somewhat immobilized and cut off from the world partly because of my injury and partly because of my lack of friends, but there is more to it than that. If I keep going after the thrill, then life will be too bitter to endure. Everything is possible in fairytales. Stories allow you to be anyone, do anything, live any life you want without much effort and consequences. That is a power which must be wielded wisely. I find myself not so wise in this respect. I adore that freedom and the oceans of possibilities…

And, on days where life feels like a little too much, what else would you want other than escaping to a world of your making (or someone else’s)?... a place where even conflicts are carefully crafted, where nothing has to go horribly wrong (but if it does it gets fixed), where miracles can happen, where love is real, where pain is poetic…

Why is this state so intoxicating yet so charming? Do you ever feel like this? Like all your world will come crashing down if you don’t enter the viny ethereal arch inviting you inside the story? Do you feel like you need a new world, a place of reliable comfort and magical (as in “not your current state of things”) plots?

There are these days when sadness is the only appropriate response, a day when feeling melancholic is like second nature. There are these days where words carry endless weight and the scenery outside looks dull, colorless. A day where “Those Eyes” by New West hits different, pulling at a string in the heart left untouched for a while. Maybe you’re not going through heartbreak, but it feels like you should, like you kind of are.

…those days

Hugging your knees under a blanket feels like the right thing to do. Looking out the window to see the same thing feels strange. The light is wrong. The walls don’t want to move, and you are stuck typing your feelings away at a computer. How strange indeed!

What do I want to say? I, unlike many times, actually don’t have a point with this. I’m overwhelmed. My heart feels pain from unknown causes. There is no diagnosis, no logical explanation. There are possible leads, but no definitive answer. Just words flowing one after the other on page, trying to make sense of it all.

The silver lining…there might not be one. But that is not to say this is pointless. It’s just so strange and such a fascinating feeling. It weighs on me but I cannot fight it… I don’t wish to. There is something almost ceremonial in this. As if I get the chance to experience bits of alternative realities, of things that could have been or that could be. I encounter all sorts of people, doing all sorts of heroic and terrible things.

Getting to know my own main character feels close to heartbreaking. She is so hurt and in need of love. She puts on such a tough front, making so many bad decisions just because she couldn’t get what any child should have – unconditional love. This shouldn’t be a fight; it should be a guarantee. How very sad! I made her, but she has a mind of her own. I can see her face, her expressions, her gestures and it makes me sad for her. I long for her to find the proper way about life. I long for me to find that.

Does life not get very confusing at times? So demanding and so not rewarding…long-term things are strenuous. It’s a “trust the process” kind of thing, but what do you do when it really feels stuck and like it’s not going anywhere? Of course, you must push through. I know that and I’m definitely not saying I’m giving up on everything because I had a weird day. Today I just felt enveloped by this veil of profound sadness craving the escape of stories. I’m (unfortunately) not one to read books, but I just had to. I needed to create my own movie, to revere at the pages flowing before my eyes. This day is what I picture those aesthetic pictures of the fall mean. A hint of sadness, maybe even sorrow, but experienced in the comfort of your place, whatever that might be. Quite like this…

A good story will always take you places and show you the new, the undiscovered, the forsaken, the desired…all that could have been and that could ever be.

Am I lonely? I guess… Am I moody? Kinda… Am I sad? Yep. Am I just not getting enough sunshine? Probably. Am I all of them? Maybe. The thing is, as scattered as these thoughts might appear, they are exactly what went through my mind. I’m sure this is not an isolated experience, but I do know it may take various forms and also differ in intensity. And as weird as it might sound, I love feeling like this. It’s a state of mind where I feel like I can get acquainted with a hardly present part of myself. But I must be careful. Too much inward is not good. But you knew that…I just wanted to share something very, very, very raw, present, unedited.

I don’t know whether to wish for you to experience this or not (regardless of whether you have or haven’t already). It’s at least interesting and at most intoxicating, but it’s quite a thrill.

Sooo…feel like putting on some sad music and getting acquainted with a new story already?

P.S.: Sorry I was late again :(

For the music today, I really wanted a specific song, which I can obviously not put here without breaking the rules of copyright. For that reason, I’ll give you a link and you can play it in the background on YouTube as you read. I loved the vibe of the song and it went perfectly with what I was going for today. The message itself is not the same, but they are both melancholic and somewhat sad.

A normal human life is made up of different stages and nowadays more than ever we like to emphasize those transitions from one stage to the other and even make a big deal out of some. You know, at first, they are the non-walking to walking stage or non-speaking to putting-your-first-words-together stage. Then they get further apart; so, from being a child, you become an adolescent, and a young adult, and then a fully-fledged adult. Transitioning from one to the other gets more difficult as time goes by because the responsibilities reserved for each get increasingly more demanding. Of course, the skill set to match is presumed to have been acquired in the previous stage. Moving through life has never been easy for anyone because we all struggle with something, but I find that particularly those instances where you can actually feel the transition are the most difficult. First, you have to leave home and be in kindergarten. Then you move on to school. Before you know it, you’re in high school getting ready for college. And after college, you have to get a job and be as independent as possible. That’s adulthood nowadays.

For me in particular, the transition from finishing college to moving on to whatever was next was very difficult because I was scared. On the one hand, I knew vaguely what my path should look like; you know, the typical get a job and then maybe continue with my studies and try to get married. And to be honest, it was because I wanted those things, but, on the other hand, it felt like I had no idea where I was going and like I had to leave behind the best days of my life. It might be the media virus that affected me or maybe it was just the fear talking, but the truth is I really didn’t want to move on at the time. I liked it a lot, being a student, the friends, the free time, the relatability around campus, the volleyball…it really felt like all the best things were over for me.

It was around this time that I decided to watch a series called Twenty-five Twenty-one and, boy, did it come in like a wrecking ball! It’s a Korean series so I understand it’s not for everybody. I won’t give any spoilers, but I will describe a scene. I’ll leave a link for a short video here for you if you want to learn about it a little before moving forward. Fair warning: there is mild cussing in the video, but it really does a good job at explaining the beauty and meaning in the series. If you’re purely interested in the story, here is another video for you so that you can get an idea. If you happen to want a more detailed review, here is another video to help.

At first, we meet the main character, ex-fencer Na Hee Do. She is currently a wife and a mother. She and her daughter go on a trip to her mother’s house (or something of the sort. I can’t remember the reason, but they end up there). It is there that the daughter finds her mother’s old diary. And that’s where our story begins. It’s a typical story in a story kind of thing. It’s not very frequent, but we go back and forth between present and past, learning about the mother’s teenage years and her perspective on them as an adult. We learn about her dreams, her struggles, her love life, her friendships, basically her evolution all together.

There is one scene in particular that stuck with me profoundly. We are in the past and we see Na Hee Do and some of her friends making a short trip to the seaside, enjoying the sun, the water and, of course, each other. At the end of that scene, she says it’s one of those moments that seems to last forever. Then, we cut to the present and the daughter talks about how she also wants to go on a trip. Na Hee Do explains that it’s not possible and that she also couldn’t go because of her training when she was young; she was a fencer and her daughter was training to be one. The girl protested because she had seen the pictures taken there. Na Hee Do is confused because she can’t seem to remember the moment her daughter is talking about. At this point, we are all shocked (at least I was).

“You had these pictures taken as if the moment would last forever”, her daughter explains.

“Nothing lasts forever. Everything is temporary…”, she makes a small pause and continues “…and that’s not always a bad thing”.

Just like then, this scene still makes me emotional. It spoke directly to my heart. It was exactly what I was struggling with: the fear that I would forget some of the most precious moments from when I was young. I know I’m not old and I was all the less then, but the transition felt like a seal put on my youth and the beginning of getting older. There were many things on my mind at the time and I cried numerous times. I was angry, sad, scared, melancholic, excited…

Because this is a very vulnerable confession, I’d like to share one more thing with you, a note that I wrote one night, while trying to detangle the plethora of emotions storming inside. Here it is:

“If I'm being honest the responsibilities might not be the hardest to bear. To be completely frank, I'm absolutely terrified at the thought that this stage of my life is done. I'm scared to face the new and I'm full of regret. I think I will miss it the most and, even though I say I don't have time, I will never get as much time as I do now. I just want to cry for this ending, for saying goodbye to such a wonderful time of my life and of my youth. I don't want to grow up anymore. I know I'm acting like a kid but I think I might still be one. I'm so not ready for life.

I hate how time passes by. I hate that I will soon not be young anymore and that I will have missed out on my own life. I hate endings and I am scared of new beginnings. What do I do with such heavy thoughts? How am I supposed to go on with such a burden? How do I say goodbye to my best days, my best friend, and my youth? How do I suddenly live like an adult? How am I supposed to take it all in?

I am scared, sad, and lonely. There is this void in my chest. I hate that I have to live by memories. I hate that I have to have real worries now. I hate that I have to be a grown up and take responsibility for everything. I hate that I can’t be young and careless. I hate that I have to get lonelier. I hate that I have to face life head-on. I hate that I missed out on so many things that I could have done. I hate that life goes by like a flash. I hate time because it's so impatient. I hate that I won't have the time to worry about such things again. I hate that this is so much to take in.

I feel so sorry for me that I just want to cry. I want to indulge in such childish behaviors. I hate that I’ll reminiscence about writing this with bittersweet memories. Let's just say I hate everything because I am so scared of the world. I'm worried but, most of all, I pity future me for having to grow up and adapt to a ton of new things. I hate melancholia! It's taking away my joy. Since I hate endings so much, let's not end this properly and just leave it like that, with a lot more to say that may be spoken only in the mind and in my dreams maybe. I hate that I have to put the period at the end so I won't ”

*exhales*…I was afraid about a number of things, but by far the most terrifying idea was that I could never re-experience the beauty that was college. That may be why I had to continue after a while: “But I guess I still have to say (for my very aching heart) that I will remember you stupidly beautiful and unnecessarily sad period of my youth. I hate how I love you!”

… I loved and hated it, the proper dynamic to make sure I can never let go of it. I didn’t know how to move on. I thought I might grieve for it for a very long time. I was aware I’d let go of it eventually, but I didn’t want to let go. I wanted to make those moments last forever.

However, as Na Hee Do explained, the reality is nothing lasts forever and everything is temporary, both the good and the bad. And that’s not such a bad thing. Having moved onto the next stage, I’m happy to report it doesn’t suck just because it’s different. It sucks for many different reasons. ;D

Ok, I’m kidding… partially. :)

It’s true that we can move on from the things we once loved and treasured. Some things we genuinely will remember forever and keep precious in our hearts, like this experience for me for example. Other things we will forget regardless of how amazing they were, and I can tell you I don’t remember most of my college years. But that’s not a bad thing. It’s necessary to move on with life even though it’s painful. Saying goodbye to good things is always difficult and that’s ok. I believe it is a great blessing to have things to miss because it means you had the chance to enjoy something really special. And also, letting go of something makes space for something else. And I have had great experiences since then too. Growing up can be challenging, but it’s not impossible and it’s also not sad and overwhelming all the time. Yes, there are struggles, but there is also plenty of hope and scope for good things. Where there is God, there is hope…and God is everywhere.

I find it so funny that I wrote about how I hated the idea of thinking about that period with bittersweet memories and yet ended up writing about it. I expected it. I knew myself enough even then.

And I also understand it can sound so silly knowing my age. Yes, it was merely two years ago. But it genuinely feels like a lifetime ago. The moment I stepped into this new territory, it felt like my life was reset and that I was all the way back at square 1. It may sound silly, but it’s genuine and I’m sure I’m not the only one that felt like this about this transition. Maybe you’ve already been there and you can understand the melancholia. Maybe you haven’t and you’re scared just like I was. I think there is beauty in experiencing that kind of grief, so don’t be too hard on yourself. Let yourself experience the emotions without letting them take control over your life. You might hate the idea now, but there is something quite charming in reminiscing about the past.

Moments don’t last forever but that’s not always a bad thing.

This week I’d like to share another meditation from my daily bible reading. To me, it felt like an eye-opener even though I am beyond familiar with the text. Actually, I bet you don’t have to be a Christian to know the text I’m talking about. The typology created by this parable has been largely used in literature worldwide and it typically speaks for the story of redemption. That is true and we will mention it since it’s part of the message, but there was something I never quite put my finger on before regarding the older son in the Parable of the Prodigal Son.

Here’s the text (Luke 15:11-32) in case you’d like to familiarize yourself with it before getting to reading the mediation:

¹¹ Jesus continued: “There was a man who had two sons. ¹² The younger one said to his father, ‘Father, give me my share of the estate.’ So he divided his property between them.

¹³ “Not long after that, the younger son got together all he had, set off for a distant country and there squandered his wealth in wild living. ¹⁴ After he had spent everything, there was a severe famine in that whole country, and he began to be in need. ¹⁵ So he went and hired himself out to a citizen of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed pigs. ¹⁶ He longed to fill his stomach with the pods that the pigs were eating, but no one gave him anything.

¹⁷ “When he came to his senses, he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired servants have food to spare, and here I am starving to death! ¹⁸ I will set out and go back to my father and say to him: Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. ¹⁹ I am no longer worthy to be called your son; make me like one of your hired servants.’ ²⁰ So he got up and went to his father.

“But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him.

²¹ “The son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’

²² “But the father said to his servants, ‘Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. ²³ Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let’s have a feast and celebrate. ²⁴ For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’ So they began to celebrate.

²⁵ “Meanwhile, the older son was in the field. When he came near the house, he heard music and dancing. ²⁶ So he called one of the servants and asked him what was going on. ²⁷ ‘Your brother has come,’ he replied, ‘and your father has killed the fattened calf because he has him back safe and sound.’

²⁸ “The older brother became angry and refused to go in. So his father went out and pleaded with him. ²⁹ But he answered his father, ‘Look! All these years I’ve been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. Yet you never gave me even a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends. ³⁰ But when this son of yours who has squandered your property with prostitutes comes home, you kill the fattened calf for him!’

³¹ “‘My son,’ the father said, ‘you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. ³² But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’”

This parable will forever hold one of the most comforting and powerful truths in the bible.

This younger son asks the father for his part of the inheritance. We might also understand part of how rude such a request is even today, but it was even worse in their context back then. It was beyond rude. An inheritance would only be divided once the father was dead, but this young fella could not wait any longer. Not only was he brazen about asking for the money, but he also left the home with this newly acquired wealth. Even just reading it, I would go “ok, rude!”

And so, he leaves for a country far away where he can do whatever he wants without anyone scolding him or keeping him in check. I feel like a lot of us want that and not just in our daily lives with our parents or partners, but with God too. We wish we could do whatever went through our heads without there being consequences to that. Impossible, as we shall see. So, my guy goes away and he parties hard until he loses all the money. But, surprise! A famine! And there he was bare-handed and hungry. Notice that none of the people he spent his money on even looked in his direction when he had no more to offer them. They literally left him for dead. They could hardly care less about this guy. And so, he “began to be in need”.

He somehow managed to find a workplace where he fed pigs. He was in such a dire situation that he longer for the pig food. I’m not sure that any of us have the slightest idea what that would mean…being so hungry that you drool over pods. For most of us that would be outright disgusting, but my guy had NOTHING to eat. He was desperate. But he has a revelation!

I imagine he shakes himself up and then has a sudden thought. In his father’s house, the servants lived a rather comfortable life. They had significantly more than he did at that point and that gave him an idea. Of course, he understood how stupid he was and was ashamed. He didn’t have expectations of forgiveness or reinstatement in status; he just wanted to be given a job in the house so that he would have something to eat. Interestingly, here he also mentions he had sinned against the heavens. It’s hard to understand precisely what he was referring to, but I think a pretty good guess would be his disrespect towards his father and his sinful lifestyle in the foreign country. He understands that his transgressions were not exclusively against his father, but also against God. Good lesson to remember that sinning against other people is still also a sin against God.

Alright, so he decides to try his luck and comes back home. The parable doesn’t mention it but I wonder how he travelled back; it was a far way country so the journey must have been rather long. I also wonder what might have gone through his head; he might have made about a million scenarios about how the meeting would go. He might have even prepared some sort of back-up plan or maybe he was ready to accept his doom, but the thing is he makes it back home.

The most beautiful thing in verse 20 is not just that the father displays the most wonderful love in welcoming his son, but rather that he had been waiting for him to come back. We are told that he saw the boy from a long way off and he ran to meet him. The father had every right to be upset and to chastise his son for his behavior, but his heart of fatherly love met the boy where he was and accepted him exactly as he came. He didn’t even wait for the son to make his way back to him, he met him on the way.

The son starts his prepared speech to explain his unworthiness and to ask for mercy, but the father doesn’t even let him finish. He calls the servants to tend to his son. Not only does he take him in, not only does he allow the son to maintain his privileged position in the household, but he treats him with the utmost kindness, giving him only the best of what he had. He doesn’t just welcome him, he makes a celebration of his son coming back home. He is genuinely overjoyed about his son’s return.

But let’s not forget there is an older son as well. When all of this feast was underway, the older son was out in the field. He comes back and is surprised by the commotion so he asks around and finds out what the whole thing is about. His reaction is a bit unexpected. I get that one would be confused and maybe reluctant, but he gets angry, so angry that he refuses to take any part in what I think he might consider a “stupid” celebration. But we are soon to discover why.

The father finds out about his older son refusing to join, so he goes out to persuade him to come. This young man lets it all out now. He must have been a really obedient son, one who did his father proud, a hard worker and an honest man, but he feels wronged. According to him, his endless sacrifices had earned him a lot more than he was given. The truth is that treating the younger son the way the father did, was an unexpectedly gracious move. The older son doesn’t want any part of it. He seems to be a justice-oriented person, one who believes that people should be rewarded or punished based on the quality of their actions. It would make sense that in his understanding he should be rewarded with a feast and his brother chastised.

The father sees things differently though. In his understanding, all that he owned was rightfully the older son’s. We remember that the younger son took his part, which meant that all that was left was the older son’s. The father had already given his everything to the young man, but it looks as if he didn’t understand what he had; he felt like he had to keep working to earn all of the things which he already had from the father’s perspective. I’m sure the father appreciated his efforts, but it does seems rather silly if you look at how the misunderstanding appeared. The father gave everything, but the son thought he still had to earn it. He was angry that he didn’t get the recognition he was working for, but he actually already had it.

The father tells his older son too that the real beauty in all this celebration is that the boy decided to come back after going astray. It didn’t have to do with earning something, like the older brother thought, it was grace and love. The father was glad to see his son trying to make amends for his mistakes; he was just glad to have him back home where he could take care of him and provide for him. He must have felt the same way for the older son, but he probably never got the memo.

For the father, it never was about their actions, it was more about who they were to him. He loved them dearly and he wanted to offer them only the best. He still respected their choices though, even though I’m sure he didn’t agree with all of them. He wanted to lavish his love onto both of them. The one who though he had earned his rightful share of love was upset that his efforts were not the ones that dictated the results because it made him feel like all he did was for nothing and he could’ve just enjoyed being loved without wearing himself out. The younger brother, however, got to enjoy the full extent of his father’s love; he was unworthy. But he proved that there was nothing he could have done that would make his father turn his back on him; he must’ve felt reassured and loved beyond measure.

I really feel for the older brother though. It must be terrible working so hard for something just to realize you had it the whole time. One silly example of that in my own life is what happened during a math exam. I had this geometry problem where I had to find something out. The thing is I needed the triangle to be equilateral, I think (or isosceles). I spent all of the time I had trying to prove that in order to be able to move forward with the demonstration. I couldn’t. After the exam was over, I looked over the problem again and it was right there, right under my nose, it was in the text of the problem. The triangle had always been equilateral, but I didn’t see it until it was too late. I was obviously upset about it and I think this is what the son must’ve felt like. After putting all that effort in just to realize he didn’t have to, it must’ve made him angry. In real life, it is devastating when you find out that you wasted all your efforts for something that was right there in front of you. Some might grow to find comfort in that, which is what the father tried to help the son do, some might not. We are not told how the son reacted or what happened afterwards, but the typologies are created.

I think one of the reasons why there is not much emphasis on either of the son’s reactions is because the main idea is to understand the father’s heart. Undoubtedly, the parable talks about God’s love for us. Whether we are the classical “prodigal son” type or the more overlooked older son type, God has enough love and grace for all and he invites all to take part in his love plan of salvation. The key element of the parable is not the sinning or trying, but repenting. All it takes for God to take us is and lavish his gracious love on us is repentance. Be sorry! Turn from the life of sin and trying to earn his favors. Accept his grace revealed through Jesus Christ, the One who dies so you could live.

He will do everything to bring you close. All you have to do is come to him. He will meet you on the way because he is more eager to have a relationship with you than you are to have one with him. He is more eager to lavish you with love and grace than you are to be treated this way. We can all agree that being treated like this is a dream come true and, very obviously, we all must want that very much. Can you even begin to imagine how much God can cherish us if his desire to love us exceeds our desire to be loved?

Today, I decided to share with you some of my thoughts while I do my daily bible reading. Lately, I adopted a new way for it. I found a bible reading plan for 40 days that focuses on personal growth. Because the texts are rather short, I decided to enhance my experience by writing out some thoughts about the reading of the day. The first day was an absolute hit and I fell in love with doing this.

Everything that I have read so far was spot on what I needed to move forward with God. It addressed the issues I needed to confront and it made a real difference in my daily routine as well. Because of the beautiful impact of it and because of the undeniable power of the biblical truth, I decided I would share a meditation on one of those texts today. Temptation is something every individual struggles with, so I really believe you will be able to relate. The reference is James 1:13-18. Just to make things more accessible, I’ll put the text below in the NIV translation:

¹³ When tempted, no one should say, “God is tempting me.” For God cannot be tempted by evil, nor does he tempt anyone; ¹⁴ but each person is tempted when they are dragged away by their own evil desire and enticed. ¹⁵ Then, after desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and sin, when it is full-grown, gives birth to death.

¹⁶ Don’t be deceived, my dear brothers and sisters. ¹⁷ Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows. ¹⁸ He chose to give us birth through the word of truth, that we might be a kind of firstfruits of all he created.

Temptation is one of the most prevalent realities of being a human. We are tempted in many ways and have various weaknesses when it comes to doing the right things according to God’s standards. Having to live a life like that is very frustrating for someone genuinely trying to do the right thing because no matter how much help you get and how strong you want to be, the reality is that sin is not extinct from the world yet. Trying to live like a Christian in these circumstances is indeed awfully frustrating at times and makes you want to be able to pass the blame somewhere else.

I guess this is exactly what James talks about here. We might want to blame it on God because He’s sovereign, but it doesn’t work like that. First of all, He just doesn’t do it, it’s not his nature. Secondly, even the thought that he might somehow be tricked into it is ridiculous. He doesn’t choose to tempt anyone, and he also cannot be convinced to. Thus, the only reasonable explanation is the one we wish to avoid, that it is the evil desires in us. If we become enticed by it, then desire inevitably leads to sin; and the terrible consequence of sin is DEATH.

But let us not despair because the Father we wanted to blame for our sinfulness is actually a great helper and gift-giver. He chooses only the best gifts and then offers them to us. The One living in heavenly lights and who never changes is the One who chooses to give out the best gifts to His children. And above all He has offered, He offers freedom through truth. He makes us special, the first fruit of all he created. He gives us a special title and a great blessing of being made free from sin.

Now, we can enjoy not being under the dominion of sin; it has no power over us if we do not give it any. It even mentions it before. The desire itself doesn’t mean sin, but if we are enticed by it and put it into action, then it’s sin. It’s frustrating to live in the presence of sin and the reality is we will still be enticed by our evil desires. The good news is that it is not Him doing this to torture us, it’s our doing; plus, he gives us good gifts from above, like the freedom found in truth. The reason why this is good news is because we can be sure that God doesn’t trick us. His intentions are always pure and what he focuses on is helping us to fight the evil within. We may not be free of the presence of sin be we are free of its power.

So yeah, even in our misery in fighting temptations swarming inside us, there is plenty of hope. God is good, he provides everything needed and he set us free already, so there is amazing scope for victory over sin in the life of a believer. Admit your weakness, accepts God’s gifts, trust Him and fight your evil desires. Don’t let yourself be enticed. Choose the victory that Jesus made possible!

I wish I had a good excuse like having too much to do or some impossible artist’s block, but that is not the case (un)fortunately. I had a lot of time on my hands and, while I do have some responsibilities to take care of daily, that doesn’t mean I don’t have any time to spare for writing. Also, it’s not really a complete lack of inspiration to write, but rather a complete lack of motivation. I have experienced a weird feeling with the long series of suffering’s end. It felt and kinda still does feel like I have nothing more to say. Of course, I am aware that is not truly the case, but I find it difficult to get started on anything. I feel a bit of pressure to make something great and widely helpful, like providing some sort of never-seen-before insight. I know that my previous confessions were not all that ground-breaking, but I felt genuinely satisfied with the vast majority of them… now that’s just not the case. I had several ideas and quite a few drafts on stand-by, but nothing seems to be working out.

Lately, I have had a broken feeling. It feels like I can’t get myself together, like pieces of me are slowly drifting apart from each other. I want to put in effort to make something good, but things are just not going my way.

Luckily, I am aware that this is merely a period of time and that things will get better probably very soon. Until then, I wanted to share how things were going and to try and give a reason for the belated confessions.

I hope you will be understanding and patient!

Let’s hear from each other soon! :)

P.S.: If there any themes in particular you’d like me cover, please feel free to tell me in the comments.

It is the interview of my sweet little cousin. Her name is Rianna and she is the youngest person to participate in the series, I was genuinely intrigued to see what her perspective about such a profound matter would be. I’ll let you discover the answers below.

If you are interested in connecting with her, you can always contact her on her Instagram account at rianna24.9.

Q: Describe suffering in 15 words or less.

A: Suffering is an unhealed wound.

Q: Describe your experience with pain and how it impacted your life, your development, your relationships etc.

A: Grief has changed my perspective on every aspect of life. It transformed me, shaped me, but also strengthened me. It was not only a wound, but also a life lesson.

Q: What do you think of creating a hierarchy between physical and emotional pain? Is there a worse one? Why?

A: I would say that the two are distinct, but that they can cause each other. Physical pain is concrete, and in many cases you know the reason for it. Emotional pain is felt more deeply from my point of view.

Q: Why do you think we suffer? Which was the cause? And is there a purpose to it?

A: Suffering strengthens us and shapes us as people. We don't want it, but it makes us what we are.

Q: Are there any benefits to suffering? If so, do they make it worthwhile or just bearable?

A: The benefit of suffering, from my point of view... It would be the fact that it makes you stronger, more empathetic, and that it helps you see things totally differently once you start getting acquainted with it.

Q: Are you a religious person? Regardless of your answer, please explain how you think this aspect impacted your understanding of and experience with suffering.

A: I love God! Religion has often given me the strength to overcome certain situations. I trusted in God and in the power of healing, and He showed me that I had reason to believe in what others call "just a story".

Q: What do you think is the proper perspective on suffering? How should we address this inevitable reality?

A: I believe we should accept it and see it as a constructive experience.

Q: Any further advice or observations? Feel free to add whatever you consider important which was not covered by previous questions.

A: My advice: Don't give up, every pain has a cure! 🤍

The interview below is that of one of the most hurt people I have seen, yet one of the warmest. My grandma didn’t have any ideal circumstances in her life and was hurt in many ways by many people, especially the one who was supposed to be her closest partner, but she never succumbed to her situation; she always rose above the hurt. She kept the family together and invested her everything into bringing up my father and his sister. The dedication and love that she has in her heart are always surprising and endearing.

She is very kind and attentive to other people and their needs. She puts others above herself and there is literally nothing she would not do for the people she loves, regardless of how much we might hurt her. She is one of the people who embodies Christ’s love most beautifully. I hope all of her experiences and hope will be helpful to you too.

Q: Describe suffering in 15 words or less.

A: Suffering is the state of someone enduring pain or a trial.

It can be either physical or mental and it can be caused by multiple factors, such as:

• War;

• Illness;

• An accident;

• Unkind words or actions from people, especially people close to us;

• Sensitivity to others’ problems;

• Suffering of the soul.

Since all of us are born in sin, we all experience suffering some way or another.

Q: Describe your experience with pain and how it impacted your life, your development, your relationships etc.

A: Pain is frustrating. It can interfere with sleep, work and daily activities. For me personally, pain has affected my life – I would close my eyes and feel helpless. It feels terrible living in fear. I used to live in a world of fear, a hopeless world and I could see no way out. I desperately wanted to leave that world, but the only ways out were taking my own life or doing something to the man causing all the suffering.

I later found the answer I was looking for. I thank God because He never left me alone, but stayed next to me and helped me find balance.

Q: What do you think of creating a hierarchy between physical and emotional pain? Is there a worse one? Why?

A: In my opinion, emotional suffering is far worse than physical. When I was insulted or humiliated, I felt like I was worthless and the world I had built kept crumbling. I felt I had no energy to move forward and I had no wish to move forward. Physical pain is tough enough, but as we all know, it passes with time; emotional pain lasts in time tough, and it can be vastly prolonged.

Q: Why do you think we suffer? Which was the cause? And is there a purpose to it?

A: Nobody escapes suffering; it’s just part of life. However, it seems that some people experience it more than others – some older and some younger, some earlier and some later. Nobody made a contract with God to be spared from it, but He never gives us a suffering that we can’t handle. He never promised we would not go through hardship, but He did promise to be with us through it. It’s important that we don’t get stuck in self-pity. The holy Word says that “our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us.” (Romans 8:18) This encouraged me, and I understood that Jesus suffered incomparably more. So, could He who understands suffering not be with us?

Suffering brings us closer to the One who suffered, the One who also said there is an end to it.

Q: Are there any benefits to suffering? If so, do they make it worthwhile or just bearable?

A: Pain is not our enemy; it makes us more aware of what is happening to us. The benefits that suffering brings cannot occur in its absence.

• You can learn to live differently than you have in the past;

• It makes you more ready, stronger, more experienced;

• It grounds you, making you aware of how blessed your life had been before suffering appeared and, even though you can’t change the past, it gives you the opportunity to change the future;

• Pain brings us closer to each other. There is a saying “A friend in need is a friend indeed” and it’s true. The support you receive from the people close to you helps you strengthen your connections.

So, yes, I believe there are benefits to suffering.

Q: Are you a religious person? Regardless of your answer, please explain how you think this aspect impacted your understanding of and experience with suffering.

A: Yes, I am a believer. Suffering is an inevitable part of life. It is defined as a state of the soul caused by the lack of a desired good.

We are beings with a body and a soul and these two wrestle against each other. Apostle Paul talks about this in Romans 7. There are two laws – the law of the body fighting against that of the mind; the defeated will suffer. God made humans to be joyful, but the real joy is waiting after the earthly life and, to get there, we must now endure suffering as payment for sin, for the offenses caused against the Creator. Suffering is redemptive though and it represents a sure way to eternal joy.

Pain is actually proof of God’s love for humankind, as Hebrews 12:6 points out, “For the LORD disciplines those he loves, and he punishes each one he accepts as his child.”

Let us embrace pain, so that we can say as Job once said: “may the name of the Lord be praised.” (Job 1:21b)

Q: What do you think is the proper perspective on suffering? How should we address this inevitable reality?

A: Earthly hardship is not worth considering and that’s not because it’s easy to endure, but because it becomes insignificant when looking at the eternal joy ahead of us. Ephemeral things like injustice and pain will not last, but what is endless – the eternal weight of glory born from this pain and our desire to forgive – will.

A calming thought for me is that every trial God allows in our lives is a puzzle piece that only He can place correctly where it should go.

Did I miss the timeframe? Yes. Am I sorry? Yes. But I think what you are about to read will quite sufficiently explain the lack of material lately.

In our day and age, time is a very expensive currency, and we find it difficult to choose what we must trade it for. Time is our most valuable resource and the one we can never seem to get enough of.

But what if we did?

What do you think a world in which we actually get all the time that we want would look like? I think, contrary to popular belief, that we would not make use of it very well. And that is something that can be verified. Every resource that is found in abundance is less valuable and paid less attention to. The reason we all dream to have the time to do all that we want to is exactly because in our society time is very difficult to have for yourself or your family. If we got time endlessly, it would be less valuable and we would surely live more carelessly. This has been proven by every attempt at writing a story about an immortal human among mortals. What they want all the time is to be able to die because they have so much of a resource that they get tired of it. The beauty in life comes partly from its ephemerality.

This may have sounded quite philosophical even though short, but it’s an introduction I considered necessary. Today I’d like to share something I learnt while being bedridden because of my broken leg.

During this period, time is all I had. I could barely do anything and was not required to even though I could have done a little more. I was protected and served. So, since I could not be of help I was left on my own with lots and lots of hours every day.

In the beginning, it was terrible. Time seemed to pass so slowly, thought I would not see the end of it and that was because I was in pain, but after that, things got pretty much back to normal. I could do any activity that I would have done on my own other than cooking. So, there I was with plenty of this really valuable resource.

Spoiler: it did not go well.

In the first weeks, I decided to take some days and not think about work at all, I wanted to just relax and rest. And I did that, but then it got me in the habit of doing only what I wanted. Laziness started settling in and even the little that I had to do – I was working on a translation – I found myself unable to do. I chose to be miserable but comfortable. It might sound insane and quite paradoxical, but it’s true.

I felt like trash. Since I could hardly do anything, the little that I could do should have been a no-brainer, but it was actually a lot harder than I had expected. Once you get in the habit of using time only as you like to, which in my case included not-very-helpful activities, it’s hard to go back. That is a similar feeling to what we experience when we come back from a vacation but then have to get back to work. It feels unnatural and very difficult to get back to doing the things we are responsible for. A life free of responsibilities sounds fun and exciting until you try it for more than a few days. Regardless of what you might be responsible for, there is a sweet period of time where you can go without it, but then it starts all feeling meaningless and lonely. Sure, maybe there will be some things you will never miss, but there will definitely come a time where you find yourself missing some of the things you had to do. I know I did…

I am aware that my situation is a very particular one and that it is not a perfect example for what I said because of my inability to do most things, but that is also part of why I consider it relevant. I didn’t have to do anything. Every need was taken care of, but I felt so miserable not being able to do anything helpful. Sure, it does not cover the plethora of situations in the world and I am well aware that any overworked person will continue to dream of a life free of responsibility and abundant in free time. I don’t think it’s wrong, but I find it a bit unhelpful. As someone who has experienced literally not doing anything on a few occasions, not just now with a broken leg, I really do not think any person should give in to living a life in which they do only what they want to. That is animalistic and miserable. I will not get you where you think it will and, trust me, I really wanted it to work. It just doesn’t.

My point is not that we should work to death or not take vacations; dreams are beautiful and even motivating sometimes. What I am saying is that dreaming of having all the time in the world to do only the things you want will get you to very dark places that are awfully difficult to get out of. Both time and wants should have a limit for them to be truly valuable. We all know that an utopia is a terrible idea, but I’m not sure how many have actually experienced a part of it to testify. I am here to tell you I’ve tried it and it doesn’t ended well. This recent experience has simply reminded me of the dangers of letting myself go.

Time is valuable which is why it should be used wisely, not only on yourself. Wishes are good only as long as they are submitted to the One that is always good. I remember I heard Jordan Peterson say once that there is no difference statistically between thinking of yourself and misery. Being selfish will get you exactly that, misery.

So, in case you didn’t know or had forgotten, you can rest assured that a life free of responsibilities, one that is always about you is not what you dream of. There are plenty of wonderful things that come from thinking of others and doing uncomfortable things. Maybe you think it’s obvious – for some it is – but that was not the case with me and I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one.

I might sound like I’m preaching what I don’t live, but the truth is that I’m saying it specifically because I didn’t do it properly. I got to see the dark side of being self-involved. As terrible as they may sound sometimes, responsibilities contribute to our sense of purpose. If you can but choose not to contribute to society, you will feel like garbage.

I’m truly unsure about it might sound like to someone reading. I can understand it feels a bit out of place and maybe not very coherent with the theme we’ve been tackling this series, but it was something I really wanted to share because it has caused me significant sorrow.

I used to be responsible to a fault and I don’t mean that in a good way. I was overfocused on work, but that extreme exhausted me and sent me the other way across; I became driven by emotion and have a tendency to do what feels right and what I want to, particularly with my free time. Eating chaotically, sleeping at ungodly hours or not sleeping at all, watching sickening amounts of content and holding my flag with pride is foolish. Even though I saw it led nowhere, I did it more than once. Will I do it again? It is unfortunately very probable, though I wish to avoid it. But having been there a few times, I truly know it’s not a dream. I think quite a lot of people can relate to these choices, especially the younger generations, but I just wanted to remind you it does not end well.

God was graceful enough to give me a mentor to keep me in check, so I can see the right path again, but the truth is it’s still difficult. I get it… But there is hope!

I’m sure you might be able to recall a time you were proud of what you accomplished despite the difficulties. That is what I’d describe feeling alive as. True beauty resides in those uncomfortable conversations, tough choices, difficult situations where meaning prevails.

This might be redundant or sound funny…either way, I believe what I said even if I find it hard to apply all the time.

So, just in case you need a reminder, the uncomfortable takes you on the most challenging adventures with the best outcomes, so try not to avoid it. To be honest, it’s not that you could, but it would help a lot to embrace it rather than try to fight it😊.

Let’s get growing then!

I have literally just yesterday realized how long it’s been since I last posted and I’m sorry I didn’t keep my promise to post weekly.

Nothing particularly disturbing happened; I was just distracted and a little bit out of things to say. Some call it a writer’s block…the point is I’m having a bit of a harder time creating something right now, but I have no intention of giving up. It turned into some sort of unintended break. I hope that won’t be a problem. As things stand right now it’s a bit hard to say when I will have the next confession. I’ve been writing some drafts, but nothing seems to be going anywhere worth your time. I will try to not delay it past next week though.

Thank you for you patience!

This is the first one I’ve done with a man. The person is dear to me and I believe there is depth to be discovered in his rather short answers. His experience with pain moved me any time we talked about it.

He chose to remain anonymous, but I believe that does not affect the way you can perceive his understanding on this topic.

I pray there will be plenty of helpful information here for anyone reading!

Q: Describe suffering in 15 words or less.

A: Loneliness, brokenness, pain, rebellion, disorder, punishment, correction, curse, teacher, disharmony, expectation setter, tool, text.

Q: Describe your experience with pain and how it impacted your life, your development, your relationships etc.

A: Father, wife, pastor, myself. These are the main four sources of suffering for me. I haven’t suffered physically in an impactful way. Yet, my father taught me what fear, anxiety or uncertainty mean; my wife enforced upon me the meanings of guilt, incompetence and inadequacy; my former pastor showed me what coldness, rejection and being cancelled mean; and I, above all, proved rebellious, selfish, unwise, impulsive and away from God, to name only a few triggers of suffering. Loneliness, I guess, is the deepest form of pain I have experienced so far. I feel awfully uncertain when it comes to making decisions and having initiative. Conversely, I need constant encouragement and validation from those close to me.

Q: What do you think of creating a hierarchy between physical and emotional pain? Is there a worse one? Why?

A: I wouldn’t know. Significant physical pain has avoided me so far. It depends on the intensity of it. I would always choose the less intense one, whether physical or emotional. And yet, we cannot clearly separate the two: one type of suffering invites the other.

Q: Why do you think we suffer? Which was the cause? And is there a purpose to it?

A: Essentially, we suffer because we rebelled against God and, consequently, live in a fallen world, corrupted by sin and decay. Yet, suffering has a purpose; as everything in the universe, it is ultimately for the glory of God. (I know these statements are charged with intense emotional triggers. They beg for explanations, which can be deemed as unsatisfactory, to say the least. I myself doubt them sometimes. The excruciating “Why, God?” is still meant to be wrestled with. Yet, hope remains and suffering has purpose. It is up to us to interpret pain biblically.)

Q: Are there any benefits to suffering? If so, do they make it worthwhile or just bearable?

A: The benefits of suffering are not guaranteed, nor are they immediate or always visible. So, in many circumstances suffering seems to lack purpose and this is many people’s conclusion. Yet, suffering must be interpreted. Depending on our worldview, suffering can be understood to have benefits. Within a Christian paradigm it is worthwhile. (see below)

Q: Are you a religious person? Regardless of your answer, please explain how you think this aspect impacted your understanding of and experience with suffering.

A: I am an evangelical Christian. The Christian perspective is particularly productive in understanding suffering. It can be punishment, correction, a teacher, the price to be paid for loyalty, providence and much more. Suffering is an offering the believer brings to God.

Q: What do you think is the proper perspective on suffering? How should we address this inevitable reality?

A: The proper perspective is the Christian perspective, which, based on revelation, teaches us that, fundamentally, the multifaceted aspects of suffering must be understood from eternity’s perspective and interpreted with the souverain, just, almighty, loving God in mind. He was in Christ, while dying on the Cross, to reconcile us with Himself.

Q: Any further advice or observations? Feel free to add whatever you consider important which was not covered by previous questions.

A: God, in the incarnate Christ, had a first-hand experience of suffering. Not only does He understand it empathically, but He also experienced it, even to death. The suffering God is a debatable concept, yet not without biblical support.

12:30 p.m.

Some friends and I arrive in the parking lot. We get off to head into the building where a generous, kind lady from church had invited us to have lunch. There is a little square separating the parking lots, so instead of going around a car to continue, I take the shortest route, straight across the little square.

“Oh no!”, I think as my right leg fails me and I approach the ground. I thought it would be embarrassing, but before I complete that thought, a shock of unexpected pain moves through my body.

I reach the ground and turn over and I see it. My left ankle is in a very unnatural position. The pain suddenly gets intense to the point where I panic thinking I might pass out. Everyone panics. They try holding me in a somewhat comfortable and stable state, they call the ambulance and try to calm me. I am panicking at this point and it’s hard to catch my breath. I cry and I suffer.

12:40-ish p.m.

The paramedics arrive. They ask all these questions and try to assure me in what seemed to be a very detached tone. They secure my leg in a little “wrap” and move me to the ambulance. I think and weep to the hospital.

12:45 p.m.

We are at the hospital and I wait to be looked at.

12:50 p.m.

They take me to a room where they take a radiography of the leg. Sitting on that table is vey uncomfortable and still significantly painful, especially since they took the wrap off.

The doctor looks at me anxiously and tells me, “You have a really nasty fracture and a dislocated ankle. We’ll have to take you in and schedule you for surgery, most probably for Tuesday.”

(This is not my exact fracture. I was not given a photo, but it’s the closest to what I had that I could find online. My external fracture (on the right of the picture) was longer; the bone broke diagonally, like I tried to show in my little drawing on the second photo, the one on the right.)

I am somewhat calm. I listen and nod my head. They move me somewhere in the E.R. because the first have to put my ankle back into place.

01:00 p.m.

They move me to a bed to put me to sleep and then put my ankle back. I sit there and chat with the nurse. We discover we had a common acquaintance. After a few failed attempts, they secure the little thing for the IV’s. The resident doctor tells me I might be able to have the surgery today.

As I am sleeping, I dream of screaming as I’m lying down. Only later did I find out I was actually screaming in real life unconsciously.

The feeling when I wake up is the best I had experienced while in the hospital. My leg feels warm and finally secure in the cast.

01:20 p.m.

I get moved to a salon and I meet the brother and sister that were with me when the accident happened. They are told I’ll need a few things, so they go fetch them. Meanwhile, I get acquainted with the ladies in the salon.

03:00-ish p.m.

They are back with the things and we talk about what happened, what it would be like and they strongly assure me that they are more than willing to help with anything I might need.

06:00 p.m.

The surgery gets scheduled for today and I sign some things before that.

06:22 p.m.

I get moved towards the operation room.

06:30 p.m.

I am in the room. They try to find my veins and ask me a bunch of questions that I had already answered a number of times before. They explain the anesthesia process and they do it. It is a really weird feeling as I can’t feel anything below my chest.

The operation goes smoothly. I get a little sick but it passes and I also struggle with breathing because my diaphragm was perfectly relaxed. They give me some oxygen and I encounter no other problems.

08:00 p.m.

I am waiting to be taken back into the salon.

08:15 p.m.

I am back in the salon and just sit there. I am told I might feel nauseous, and I do for a few hours. I can’t sleep, I just keep my eyes closed.

_____________________

After a few hours the anesthesia wore off and I started feeling my leg again. I was not in pain, just discomfort. That is probably because I was given painkillers right after I came from surgery.

I don’t want to talk in detail about the first night, but what I can say is that it was difficult. A lot of new things were happening and sleeping was a real struggle because I was terrified to move my leg even an inch.

In the morning I saw what the surgery looked like in the picture they showed me. Again I wasn’t given a radiography, but I found something similar online.

Like the picture, I have one screw on the inner side, a very long one, and on the other side I have eight short screws.

The rest of the stay at the hospital felt insanely long. Sleeping was difficult the next night as well. I got along nicely with the ladies in the salon. One of them acted almost like a mother to me since I was alone.

I had the siblings as visitors on Monday too. It was the first time I actually understood the meaning of having someone visit you in the hospital. It made life seem normal again and for a little while I wasn’t just a girl with a broken leg, I was also me and I could smile sincerely.

Getting out of the hospital was an adventure in its own right. I walked my first significant distance with the walking frame and moved to my dear friend’s house. I waited for dad there.

He came in the evening and we went back on campus to spend the night before heading home. When it was just the two of us in the room I finally broke down and cried, you could even say wailed.

You see, in the hospital I was not allowed to cry. What I mean is that people kept telling me I’d recover fast because I’m so young and that I didn’t have it as bad as it could be. I didn’t mind at the time. I viewed that as encouragement, but when I was with him, I could finally cry and allow the emotions I didn’t even know I had repressed to come to surface.

The way home was long, but not terrible. Getting to the second floor to the apartment my parents live in was the biggest struggle by far. For the next week or so I was in pain. The leg itself was not too bad, but all my muscles were aching and my palms too. I was really struggling for a few days. I knew what I believed, but the pain was clouding my judgement. To be fair, I have a pretty low threshold for pain, so that might why, but the truth is it was really difficult the first week home.

After that I started adjusting both physically and mentally. My muscles ached less by the day, I could understand the situation more clearly and the future didn’t look as scary. Also, I started sleeping better and not waking up a few times a night.

Today is the 20th day since the accident. I can say I got the hang of things around the house and I even use my hands as much as I can to be of help. The visits to the doctor I hated and will probably continue to do so, but the reality is I am thankful for how things are now. I’m not in pain, I can sleep very well, I can help with a few things, I can relax, I can write, I can talk to my family, and I can enjoy their presence for far longer than I had planned to; this is probably the biggest advantage. I am really glad I can be home for a few more weeks.

This is the story of the first time I broke my leg.

The rest remains to be seen… :)