Blessed

I've been meaning to write this for some time now, and I often thought how I should apologise for not being around, or for leaving this space empty. But at the end of uni I figured I got sick of apologising, I apologised, apologised and apologised for everything, even the smallest darnest things, things that perhaps were out of my control. I realise now I shouldn't be apologising for just living my life.

I started this blog when I was 18, and as I look back at some of my posts, it caught me emotionally off-guard. It was like a book that almost hurt to read, the way it hurts to read the journal you kept when you were 15, something that reminds you of who you used to be and who you thought you would become.

This place has taught me many things, things that developed my love-hate relationship with it. I intended it to be a creative escape, where I could express myself, to share snippets of my life, and what I learnt, to be 'inspiring' and authentic.

I've since outgrown the 'words of wisdom'. Reading some older posts here made me want to crumple up inside. I realise now how it was a place where a naive girl in her late teens and early 20s believed she had so much power to inspire the world and dreamed about where she could make the biggest difference. It was an idealistic, feigned optimism that deserves its dose of reality.

It kills me how I didn't forsee it - how starting a venture to find myself also led to a rabbit hole of losing me. It started all innocent, clean and dandy, doing it for a cause, something I found meaning in. Maybe it was fueled by my desire to be independent, to earn some side money, to see where it would go. I didn't realise how this decision had led to compromising and betraying my principles, prostituting my blessings in the service of commerce.

A lot has happened in the last couple of years. I've been severely thrown into the depths of harsh reality of adulthood and endless rejection for the past couple of months, and I've questioned my own identity and who I am. This blog, for one, is named happy, as if demanding positivity and neglecting suffering. I don't believe that was my intention. As I've once said, happy was a tribute to my twin's name which means happiness in Arabic (though I'm now questioning this as I've found nothing online of its proof). I've been too disappointed with myself to be called 'happy', I've been too content to be called 'sad', right now, at least, it feels like I'm somewhere in between.

Yet I leave this place feeling blessed: what began as a passion project led to an inspiring community, of which I met such encouraging and genuine people from around the world. As I embark on the next phase of my life, I've decided to close this chapter here to rediscover myself and focus on my journey, while keeping that element of self-expression to the ones closest.

I think there's still value in happiness, joy. It's really easy to say how happiness isn't an emotion or a state, or a destination - yet I find myself constantly falling back on this, trying to find who, or what's missing that could possibly make me..a little happier. A good friend once reminded me happiness isn't about landing the next job, the next partner, the next anything. Coincidentally, I came across one of my old posts that reminded me of what it is: happiness isn't about having that constantly plastered smile, it's taking stock of your blessings and learning how to embrace who you are.

Dear readers, thank you so much for being part of this journey. It's been such an amazing adventure for the last 5 years, and I'm truly grateful for everything, alhamdulillah (thank God). And while I leave here with bittersweet memories, in some ways this has become a time capsule of 18 year old me, and on days I felt discouraged, it felt like letters to myself to remind me of what I was capable of believing. I hope, at least, in one way or another, it would do the same for you too.

♥, Dian