by Gilda Francesca G. Flores
I never really liked living my life as if it were a piece of fiction, but there were certain moments I wish did not happen at all. Turning pages was never easy, especially when they carried the burden of reality and unbearable emotions. Starting a new chapter was also the same struggle; while a blank page is enticing and refreshing to look at, you cannot easily pretend to start anew and carry on. Sometimes, you’d even get a paper cut.
During my second year in law school, I dated a schoolmate. We met through some classes and got to know each other even though we were situated in different places. What started out as friendship and casual conversations turned into a romantic relationship, something I did not expect, but was, for the most part, happy about.
That was, until our relationship ended during our exams.
Undoubtedly, taking my tests with a heavy heart was traumatizing, I couldn’t even put into words what I truly felt back then. It was only during my healing stages that I was able to deal with the pain.
When I was trying to move forward, I promised myself I wouldn’t use work and tasks as a means to cope. I owed myself time, I deserved that. I couldn’t help but think of all the instances I used law school and other activities as an excuse and an unhealthy practice to resort to when the world wasn’t on my side or when things went astray. It just seemed logical to focus on my studies and responsibilities and instantly forget everything that had transpired.
“Priorities,” I’d say, hoping nobody would call my bluff.
Applying the said logic was already a fatal flaw in itself. I forgot how to be kind to myself, how to be comfortable in my own skin—scars and all.
I would purposely hide behind the guise of my readings and pretend to be fine the next day. My pride would scream and fill the void with the statement: “I am a law student and nothing should distract me,” as if I had nothing else to blame and as if my feelings were not valid.
When I detached myself from the idea that I had to keep on accomplishing something in order to feel like myself again, there was, admittedly, a lot of discomfort in doing so. Although at some point, I felt more connected with who I was and what I could still become. I was ready to face my reality again, the new chapter I was eager to write.
Due to the nature and intensity of our studies, as well as the environment we are in, we have grown into a bubble and a false belief that making mistakes and taking time for ourselves were discouraged. That should not be the case. In the pursuit of helping humankind, we also have to be human by being kind to ourselves first. We can only get by if we allow ourselves to breathe.
I am certain there would be more challenges in my life other than relationships that turned sour. This time, however, there was nothing to distract me. I am now more than willing to overcome adversity without any reservations or hesitations. We can make-believe all we want, but fiction has to end too.
We have been unkind to ourselves for so long that we often refuse to acknowledge this common, unhealthy behavior. Thankfully, it’s never too late to give ourselves a chance.
THE BARRISTER 