Ever since I can remember, I recall feeling insufficient or incomplete in life. It’s like I have always been seeking and searching for something that seems elusive. Even while living with family, I longed to get out and discover my true identity and to ascertain for myself what it is to feel independent. I wanted to leave home, move cities, be that girl next door who’s got everything in her favour. I’ve been away from home for close to three years now, I’m living alone in a different city, struggling to lead and make choices that pertain to day-to-day living and chores, but something still eludes me. I’m not that chirpy girl next door, I’m a cynical and hopeless maniac, struggling in the rat race and trying to tell myself that there’s more to this. Hang in there. I compare my mental and monotonous struggles to the labourers hard at work and tell myself that I do not need to do such hard physical labour to fill my tummy and what’s more, I even get a few extra bucks.

The only time I didn’t have this feeling of inadequacy was¬† when I was living the life of an MBA student. I was living away from home, could smuggle some food from home, could ask for tickets to be booked by the parents and run home every time I needed to get a break in life, or when I was feeling broke, and I could just enjoy that solitude that my situation had to offer me. It helped that I had some very non-intrusive room mates and friends. We all just loved our space. I loved that space, and I loved me in that space.

Despite living in a big city, with happening people around (who I never meet, and when I do meet, end up regretting) I don’t have my space. I don’t have the opportunity to come home after a long day and feel like I’ve truly done something amazing. What usually happens is that I come home and feel sad because I have to do this again the next day, and the day after . It doesn’t make sense to me. And for me to be truly living, I need to know that I make a difference. It’s true that your job will not think twice about replacing you. What do you do then? How do you find something to do that will give you the respect you deserve and the space that you need to flourish?

I tell people that some things aren’t your cup of tea. Because honey, you’re a coffee lover. Who’ll tell me that and show me the way?

I keep waiting for someone else to give me that push. Deep in my heart, I know that none can do it except for one person.

And that person, I’m afraid, is me.