Phases. (Ameera 2020)

When I was 9, I moved out to a new state. We were settling here and I was anxious I couldn't fit in with kids from the Semenanjung. I had a weird dialect and it took me a while to pick up a new 'tongue'. 

It’s the beginning story of my life. I got to top the students in my class, teachers liked me. Kids who belittled me for having lunchboxes and being uncool could just watch me in guilt? Silence? Awe? I’m not describing the people as if I’m a main character now. I made friends, regardless of several schools I’ve moved to. Good friends. A good thing to get through anything.

13, I walked towards the school gate and thinking about freshies getting bullied and helplessly just lived through hell for the rest of their high school years. I got worried I wouldn't do well, disappoint my parents, or going to the hardcore rebellion phase. Too bad, I never had any of those memories. Should've made my dad gone crazy. Just because.

Things weren't as bad as in high school tv shows. I made friends, again. My friends' friends were my friends. I got to sit with the bright shiny ones, naughty ones, and cheeky ones. It was hard to fit in perfectly but well, it was high school. Also, I did fine in it. Hell, I'd go back and did much better. It wasn't that bad. High school was the best thing to ever happen to me.

At 18, I had to make my way to college. Some friends got to the same journey as I do, some had other plans. I realized that it wasn't necessary to progress and live on the same page with everybody else. Earning for a living at this phase was okay. Getting married was okay. Taking a break was also okay. When I thought about how was I gonna survive college, I asked a lot of questions to myself. What happened if I didn't end up doing my dream job? Do I have to switch all the plans? Of all the students here who perform well during high school, I get to be one of them? How in the world did everyone came from prestigious schools, then there's.... me? 

Life was too short to not live it and honestly a year in college, I did just fine. I got to be fairly involved in classes, I did my best as far as I know and I miss the cafeteria, the geeks I hung out with, the talks before lectures, and late-night crazies on my floor. I did average this time on papers, but it was okay. I was okay.

I was 19. University made me think of how exciting and tiring life would be. In 4 years, there'd be more people I had to engage with, stuffs to work on, and merits to achieve. I barely spent time with old friends from school anymore and the town seemed unrecognized. Sometimes when I walked to local places I just smiled at familiar faces when we ran to each other, not remembering how close we were. We just couldn't remember. There were a lot of things happening. Family and I moved out of the town for good, which made me even distant from everybody else. That was what plenty of years had done to us. We grew apart. We didn't cut off, we just grew apart. And I partly understand, even though I still think about it. 

Then, there is age TWENTY THREE, that seems to be unbelievably possible. Finally, I get to work on adulting plans, lots of plans. I still get scared. Get confused. Worried. But life would be much exciting with uncertain events.

Do I stop moving? The hell I do. I think the only way to find out of the future is to get through. And that's what I'm doing now. 

- Ameera (2020) Drafted for 4 years