I mentioned earlier that I missed feeling comfortable in my skin. In the last year, I have had ample time to assess and reassess why I thought and felt so.
New city, new country, new culture and new relationship — all of which did mostly nothing to make me feel out of sorts. It was the expectations that I put on myself (and then not meet them) that led to (and continually lead to) make me feel out of sorts. The realization came in small bursts but when I tried to apply it across situations that made me uncomfortable, I realized it was not the situation but what I expected from them situations.
It became an interesting journey, one that I am still on, of expectations. There are so many times in a day or week or month that I am unhappy or dissatisfied. I can choose to wallow in it or learn that it is what it is. This realization on your stomping grounds is good, even great but in a place where you know very few people and have fewer places to turn to for comfort, this realization, on some level, makes you feel truly alone.
That’s when I realized I wanted to feel comfortable in my skin again. I loved that feeling. In India it meant not caring what people thought of me, my looks, my choices and to be able to truly make decisions on my own. It means different things here. Here, where you are literally not understood, it means a whole different thing to just do your thing.
One year later, I feel like I am more in control of the ride on this roller coaster. But who knows? May be am just acclimatizing better and learning to say carmel (for “caramell”), red light, trunk and of course, the ‘zee’!