Social MirrorI am Megan and I have a Story

I am Megan and I have a Story

The world is not a strange place, but people are in fact alien to it. I am not feeling comfortable to be loud about all this, but an inner voice is telling me to be the talkative mime if I can’t be the silent scream.

I am scared, fearing that I will be like everybody else, like my family, like the stereotypical society which wants you to tap feet to their created euphony, whereas I want to hum to the chimes surrounding me.

While saying this, “tears welled in her uncontrollably, and she stared at me through them making her blue eyes look huge.”

The smell of coconut reminds me of her, still alive, still here with me, telling me to smile and keep on going.

When I was growing up, I wanted to be a dolphin trainer. I called SeaWorld and asked them how I can be one and they told me you have to be good at science, you have to do a marine biology course, you must have a passion for the marine life. Listening all this, I thought, do I really want to be this or is it just that I wanted to escape from the so-called estranged world and dive into the world where I can be myself, free, wild and just be.

There was a certain sense of sadness on her face that I felt while she was talking about her childhood dream, but no regret. The dream of becoming a dolphin trainer was her way of running away from a place where she felt smothered and where she doesn’t have to wear a mask to be like everyone else. 

It was Sep 19th, 2011, when I came to know that I have Hodgkins lymphoma. For people who don’t know that, it’s a blood cancer. I was 23 when the doctor uttered those unhearable words to my mom. A time when I had to be traveling, dating cute guys, being happy, but on the contrary, I was lying miserable in bed by this stupid cancer. I liked that people connected at that time, but I hated it when they referred me as the cancer girl and I never appreciated being called that because I was more than just cancer.

Cancer was a part of my life. I can’t erase it. It shaped my life in a way teaching me not to evade reality but to embrace it, but it didn’t define me. 

I missed my dad a lot, during the diagnosis. I never had a good relationship with him. Throughout my life, while growing up, I never got the emotional support, the emotional love that I always have been craving from him. I don’t know why, but I don’t blame my dad for that because this was how he was brought up. He wants to mend things now when I am a grown-up and I don’t need those wounds to be healed now, which has made me what I am at the moment.

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A month after remission

Not for once I feared death, not even the thought of it scared me. I knew that I will live because I had things lined up which I wanted to discover and those things were pushing me to be strong. I dreamt about my nana, short hair and wearing her floral dress. She died when I was five. “The shininess of sudden tears” gulped in while she remembered the time spent with her nana. I still remember vividly the time when I use to make lamingtons with my nana. The smell of coconut reminds me of her, still alive, still here with me, telling me to smile and keep on going. She made me feel special whenever I was around her. This thought of her being with me made me fight cancer, as I thought if I lose to it, I will lose my nana and I chose not to let go of my nana and the strength she gave me. Cancer was a part of my life. I can’t erase it. It shaped my life in a way teaching me not to evade reality but to embrace it, but it didn’t define me.

While listening to her, saying all this, I saw the innocence in her eyes. It reflected the side of human beings she couldn’t fight with, that is judgments. The “being” is always missing when their judgments creep in and start imbibing the life you want to live. Without even realizing how someone is feeling and what they are going through, they need to talk about it, just to keep their own ego sated and how good a place they are in. Sympathy is what they show to others when there is a need of empathy, but wouldn’t it have been an easy world if everyone thought so, being humans not just human beings. 

Like everyone else, I have also fallen in love and been hurt. I enjoyed both these emotions, one taught me happiness and the other a lesson. I don’t want to live all by myself. I want to share my life with someone, I want someone to hold my hand and make me feel protected, someone who when hugs me gives me the motherly air of approval that everything will be alright. But, somehow, the hurt part is inhibiting me from expressing my love for someone. It has taught me to trick myself into a false sense of happiness. I never liked this side of mine, but I haven’t won over it yet. Hope is what is telling me to keep on going and this faith of mine on hope makes me believe that I will overcome this needle of grief one day.

She finds peace and tranquility in the shades of trees where she grew up.

I am 27 now and feel like that I have lived a lot, but when I look back, there seems like a lot of gaps that needs to be filled, a lot of journeys that need to be made. My life, I always thought was unamusing but when I look back at the moments I lived and cherished, I doubt myself. I love to be wrong when these sort of memories reminds me that the people surrounding me have given life to what I assumed as a boring anecdote.

We were sitting in a park near the house where Megan spent most of her childhood and has so many memories attached to that place. She finds peace and tranquility in the shades of trees where she grew up. This is her veil when she wants to escape from the world and just be with herself. We all have these secret get-aways where we hide to be with our true selves. To many this might be another story, but to Megan, this is her life, her search for love and the undying spirit to be emotionally naked to the walls she has built around her. 


 

Comments (2)

  • Faizan Abbasi

    yes Megan story is touching
    Megan should live her life in her own way 🙂

  • Beautiful story, thanks so much for allowing us to have a brief insight to Megan’s journey.

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Melbourne, Vic
Australia
art@streetdiaries.com.au