I’ve been thinking about this a lot - more than I should lately.
The collective ‘We’ had said; University will be the best years of your life. When I asked why; they said it changes you. You'll grow as a person, learn somethings about the real world and maybe find a love or two. While it certainly has changed me, I don’t think it was for the best.
In truth; I'm leaving Exeter tired, drained - and a little lonely.
What happened?
3 years ago, I enrolled at the University of Exeter. A small city in Devon with a quayside and the highest tree-to-student ratio. I remember being excited to be somewhere new. It was unreal, I genuinely thought it was going to be for the best.
No one leaves Uni the same person they came. For instance, I don’t wear braces anymore among other differences. My hair has grown out and I embraced the sun. Some things stay the same though; my eyes slant when I smile and I still have no idea what I’m doing.
Honestly, I don’t. I’m surprised I made it this far.
Uni makes you feel both empowered and undermined. Everyone deserves to be here, but do you? Maybe you had slipped through the cracks, like a leech sucking off academia. Hyperbolically, of course. The hyperbole stems from some truth though. That thought lingers until it overwhelms you. This Uni is real and this world is real.
Something here is real, but it’s not you.
It felt like I had taken this opportunity of a lifetime to make sour memories and heartbreak. I studied what I did, but never fully embraced the Uni experience. I never went out more than once a month and joined few societies. More late nights were spent watching Netflix alone than with friends. I lost interest in writing and blogging despite promising I would update.
Instead, I missed friends and family. 8000 miles away with a 7 hour time difference. I’m not a texter so I rarely responded unless to send an appropriate cat gif. Everyone close to me was growing up, and the people around me were too grown up. Uni had not turned out the way I had expected - it was stagnant, tiring.
Hills don’t like me very much and the sporty lad culture clashed with my idealization of Uni. I wanted stories from Exeter; of endless nights and strobe lights. Instead, they were sleepless in a cluttered bedroom. The stories I do have are traumatic, boring and loveless. I wish they were better, then they’d be worth telling.
This isn't supposed to sound like I'm whining. I'm not.
I am forever grateful that I have had this opportunity. I got a Law degree from a Russell-Group University, I have made some life long friends and learn a few deep lessons I will carry with me forever. This isn't a complaint, just reflecting on University. It wasn't the best, but it wasn't the worst.
If I could change anything, I would have set reasonable expectations on myself and University. I'd manage my time better and perhaps traveled more. Regardless, life moves on and so will I.
Were your Uni Days what you expected?
Everyone loves and hates Instagram.
We share articles about how Instagram affects mental health, leading to rises of depression. We complain about people who like to take pretty photos and caption something nice, if not a little superficial. We don't like Instagram, but we use it anyway. It's the #1 social platform now.
I'm not here to complain. Rather, I'm here to ask a simple question.
Did Instagram Kill Blogging?
I ask this hyperbole of a question because it's been on my mind for years.
I haven't posted regularly on this website for years, inconsistent posts perhaps every other month (if at all). I'd blame a hectic University schedule but a part of me knows that's not true. In truth, I felt the blog had become repetitive. All thanks to Instagram.
Blogging has become a different scene, slowly shifting to short-form visual media that Instagram has captured. Captions are now longer, pictures dynamic and easier to maintain an audience with just a simple follow. By comparison, on a blog, you'd need a Bloglovin, Twitter, email subscription or Instagram to get notified if you aren't checking every day.
It's exhausting to blog, especially if you're just one person.
We're a society that prefers short-form content, easily digestible on Twitter or Instagram, but that's not necessarily a bad thing. It gets to the point and easy to access. Instagram has connected people in ways I can't even fathom, not the way blogging has.
That said, I prefer written content, both in terms of my own content and others. Scrolling through blog posts about the mundane lives or tips I can just do a quick check on. I think Instagram has diminished the need for blogs but it hasn't taken away my love for it.
It's true that I don't post as much anymore but I want to start. Blogging on the site won't be my main focus, but it'll still be my little corner of the Internet. I also have a space on Youtube, Twitter, and of course, Instagram.
Great segway, I know.
What are your thoughts?
Do you think Instagram has killed the blogging industry?
I can't believe it either.
Since I was 18, I wrote a '___ Things to Know' every year (except for 21, that was a video), and now here it is again. A compilation of short reflections from the past year, seeing how much change there's been. A lot.
Here are 22 Things to Know Before Turning 22.
2. You'll lose friends, that's okay
3. Own up to your mistakes. Admit, acknowledge and reflect
4. Find time for your hobbies, even if there is no time
5. Be alone, physically and personally by yourself. You'll miss it
6. Life can be overwhelming, take a step back and breath
7. It's okay to cry, it's not healthy to cry every day
8. Never let someone make you feel bad for doing something you enjoy
9. Wake up early, it's quiet in the morning
10. Long walks are good for your health
11. Embrace your 20s, it's so lively
13. You're allowed to like cheesy music
14. Don't be afraid to say 'I love you', and to stop saying 'I love you.'
15. Speak out even when no one wants to listen
16. Be proud of your achievements, you deserve it
17. Travel more, please travel more
18. Save money, even if it's really REALLY hard
19. You'll make friends in the unlikely of places
20. Help when asked, and offer when necessary
21. The sun is good for you, go outside
22. You'll be okay one day, just know that for now
What are the things you
need to know before turning 22?
It's been a while.
We haven't seen each other but we're still here, typing away into an existence that I don't know who else is reading. The tabs are up, photos are edited, all I have to do is hit Publish. It's harder than I expected.
I'm nervous to start all over, something old but still new. We'll have to try again. So I guess, let's get you updated.
Here's what I've done in the past year.
JANUARY
Went to Valencia, Spain with my housemates. Valencia is beautiful, it's January weather is pretty and cool, compared to the UK's dreary winter. The trip itself was bittersweet. In hindsight, it might have been one of the few times I felt good this year. Like everything was going to be alright.FEBRUARY
Was a guest speaker on Exeter Feminist Society's Body Positivity Panel Talk. FemSoc was so kind to invite me to discuss my personal struggle with body positivity especially as a WOC living in the UK, and being a content creator in the 21st century.Competed in UniSlam 2019. It was my second time joining with the Creative Writing Society, this time in Birmingham. I got to meet the amazing Melissa Lozada-Olivia, who was a judge. By the end of the three days, I somehow ended up dancing the night away with a bunch of poets and drag queens. I loved it.
MARCH
Let's skip March. I don't want to talk about March.
APRIL
Traveled to Venice, Italy. I say traveled but it's more appropriate to say 'ran away'. I didn't tell my parents I was going until I sat in my airplane seat, snapped a quick photo and said bye. They weren't very happy. Regardless, being alone in one of the most romantic cities in the world, I learned a few things. Particularly, a newfound love for solo traveling.
Watched Tessa Violet in Camden. I freaked out, I freaked out hard. She was tall and pretty and smelled so nice. My sister and I jammed along to her songs in a small set, singing our hearts out with some 'Bad Ideas' and 'Crush.' What a fantastic nice.
MAY
Finished my only exam, the final one at that. In three hours at the Amory building, my degree was finished and I breathed a sigh of relief. The first thing I did was go home and take a nap. Thank god, Uni was over.
Escaped to Paris, France with my sister. Just a few days after my last exam, Syasya and I boarded a coach from Victoria Coach Station to Paris, France. It was an exhausting nine-hour bus ride for three days. Paris is strange, beautiful in the expected places but nothing more.
JUNE
Traveled to Malta for a quick getaway. A young adult's party place but it wasn't what I expected. Though the Valletta streets were beautiful and the Blue Lagoon was amazing, I wish I did a few things differently. Malta was a bittersweet adventure, beautiful but a bit of a mess.
Flew to Budapest, Hungary and felt like a princess. It was a harrowing journey, I canceled my hostel last minute and searched for a new one just before my flight. It was all worth it though for just a few moments alone at the Fisherman's Bastion and the heated pools of Gellert Baths.
JULY
Oh wow, I actually graduated. Three years of law school for a piece of paper, three years I'll never get back. I'm thankful this part of my life is finally over but I know I'll miss it. More than anything else, I'm happy I survived with my head still attached to shoulders.
Visited a friend in Brighton, my second time in the rainbow city. It's the perfect Summer scene to rest and relax under the sun.
AUGUST
Came back home. My friends surprised me with a surprise afternoon tea.
Two friends came to visit for Brunei for a short while. Georgia stayed for a few days, while Zahra spent 7 hours exploring before her flight back. It was great to show my UK friends around my home.
Turned 22 years old with a birthday party. Family came at 3, friends at 5. We spent the night singing our lungs out with some karaoke, and taking swims in the pool. For the first time in a while, I felt at peace with growing up. 22 isn't going to be so bad.
2019 has been wild, and it's only September.
In just nine months, I've explored eight different countries, fallen in and out of love, spent too much time crying over things I shouldn't have cried over. Life is weird, what was important in January feels small now. I'm not complaining, just contemplating.
Whatever happens in the next few months will happen regardless, I'll just have to let it happen.
In just nine months, I've explored eight different countries, fallen in and out of love, spent too much time crying over things I shouldn't have cried over. Life is weird, what was important in January feels small now. I'm not complaining, just contemplating.
Whatever happens in the next few months will happen regardless, I'll just have to let it happen.
What have you been up to
this year?
Call it soul-searching or a spontaneous adventure.
It was more likely an outburst spurred by frustration.
It could've been any country, any city in fact. My mind wasn't working right, and I was so desperate to do something stupid. The night before, I looked at Oslo and Copenhagen. Anywhere cheap and pretty would have sufficed. Instead, I settled on a romantic round-trip for one to Venice.
A few days later, I took the train to Bristol Airport and sent a quick text to my parents as the plane took off. They weren't happy. Only when I landed in Italy did I realize, 'holy shit, I'm all alone.'
I had nothing to run away from except crippling stress and frustration, and the need to do something with my life - a void that has yet to be filled. Calling my trip a quick getaway or holiday would be more realistic, but my melodramatic self refuses that. I ran away from my problems and that was that.
What had caused me to go to Venice was an amalgamation of problems. Most of them due to my own senseless decisions. I made mistakes, I was wrong and I was alone. Loneliness when you thought you were loved aches. There was a kind of guilt. I was shamed, deserted and in my head, I deserved it.
You can only take so much at once.
I don't condone running away from your problems, but taking a break helps.
God knows we need it sometimes.
What was an impulsive opportunity became one of the best trips of my life. It was cathartic. Venice was beautiful as expected, and I left calmer than I had been for the last few weeks. I walked along the narrow streets, ate amazing Italian cuisine and learned how to take better self-portraits. Most of all, I learn that loneliness isn't necessarily a bad thing.
Sometimes, it can be a wonderful friend.
I don't regret solo traveling at all.
If possible, I recommend solo traveling to everyone. Learning to love your own company is forced upon in a new place. I'm definitely going to do it again, preferably with a better state of mind. Perhaps Paris or Malta once exams are finished.
Until then, I'll just keep dreaming of Venice.
Where are you off to next?
My skin isn't too bad.
For the most part, it is clear with a few spots here and there. One thing that remained persistent over the past few years is my milia. These small white bumps on my nose and underneath my eye seem to grow regardless of how often I exfoliate.
I met with Tao Skincare Clinic to see how we can remove them.
Milia are small white bumps formed when skin flakes or keratin are stuck underneath the upper layer of the skin. They aren't usually painful, they're just there. They've been there for a year now, no matter how much I exfoliated.
While I had them when I was younger, they became more pervasive since coming to the UK. Most likely due to the weather and forgetting to wash my makeup off often as I should. Since there was no way to remove them at home, I decided to see an esthetician.
They literally put me under a microscope.
Each pore and imperfection noticeable as I laid flat on the bed. "They should pop right out," she said, brushing her fingers against my skin. It wouldn't hurt, just little prickle.
We used needling at first. We prepped the skin first, cleaning the area with a cotton pad. Then, she took a sterilized needle, sharp to the touch, to prod the skin. I could feel the scratches, like a prick. A shard of glass pressing against the skin.
Once the skin was crossed finely, she applied pressure to the cyst. Gunk oozed out underneath, leaving a small dot of blood.
Some seeds were difficult to remove so she used electrolysis. Another needle hooked to a machine that poked under the skin, zapping a bit of heat to disperse the cyst. It sounded terrifying, electrocuting yourself in tiny heat strokes. I've never felt anything like that. The tingling sensation around the skin wasn't painful but I did hold my breath.
Afterward, she cleaned everything up with witch hazel. In just under twenty minutes, we were done!
Before & After
I had some scabs for a few days but nothing too obvious. Rather, just a bit of redness that faded away. It's a subtle change but made me feel relieved, as the bumps were pestering me for the past few years. Thanks to Tao Skincare Clinic, I feel so much better.
For more info, you can go to their website here or contact them at 01392 273 860.
with love,
Bash.
*provided a complimentary procedure
in exchange for post*
*insert
'you're so racist to white people'
comment here*
'you're so racist to white people'
comment here*
"We're living in a post-racial society."
"I don't see colour."
"You're exaggerating."
I am not writing this for white people. I am writing this for catharsis.
The acceptance I am not going to please everyone, especially those whose ideas are already set. I am too SJW, too PC, too feminist. I've become so desensitized that they aren't insulting anymore. I find those people ignorant.
I'm making mountains out of molehills. It's not a big deal. Stay quiet, stay complicit.
"You're doing this for attention."
"I don't see colour."
"You're exaggerating."
I am not writing this for white people. I am writing this for catharsis.
The acceptance I am not going to please everyone, especially those whose ideas are already set. I am too SJW, too PC, too feminist. I've become so desensitized that they aren't insulting anymore. I find those people ignorant.
I'm making mountains out of molehills. It's not a big deal. Stay quiet, stay complicit.
"You're doing this for attention."
It's scary to know you feel different because you are different.
They don't see color because they never needed to confront their race. Worried that the color of their skin affects reality's perception of them and vice-versa. I walk a dangerous line every day, trying to fit in without erasing my Muslim and Asian identity - just enough that I don't get called a terrorist on the streets anymore.
"No, you're prettier without your hijab."
"Take that thing off."
"You don't really believe, do you?"
I hear people comment at the expense of us. My first reaction is to shout and cause a scene. Instead, my lips are tight and they stay silent. I can't challenge people who have made up their mind. It cannot always be me who educates the uneducated. It's mentally exhausting to explain basic human morality to people who don't want to listen anyway.
When someone looks at me, they think Asian. They think immigrant. They think 'you don't belong here.'
That's fine. I don't want a place that doesn't want me.
For my law modules and my own commitment to read books written by women of colour this year, I've been reading intersectional feminist literature. One book that came highly recommended was Why I'm No Longer Talking To White People About Race by Reni Eddo-Lodge. The stories of Black struggles in the UK hidden in history.
I am not black. I will never learn fully understand their struggles in an ever-divided society, but I can relate. The colonization of Brunei, the White Rajah of Sarawak, and the lasting effects of colonialism. We will never know a life without British invasion because we still reel in the effects.
The past is the past, but we are still affected now. That doesn't change. Systematic oppression and casual racism still strong, and the rise of racially-motivated attacks are ignored by the public. I can't keep screaming or else I'd lose my voice.
There's no point to this post. It was written after finish a good book, and having one too many conversations where there was no conclusion. Rather than attempting to reaffirm bias, stop instead. Challenge the bias and listen to the minority.
I will start talking when white people start listening.
I'm still here, still breathing, still alive. Just tired.
I'm growing a bit more tired every day.
School life, personal life, and professional life seem to clash every other day. It's a perpetual balance except everything's falling and the metaphor is all wrong. I know I complain too much. My therapist thinks so too but she phrases it differently. Figure out what you want out of life, give yourself space, take a break. So I did.
And I hated it.
I'm not suited for a quiet life.
As melodramatic as it sounds, boredom is my worst fear. I realised that after three months of silence on this blog. I wanted to write but lacked inspiration, I didn't have to write, I needed the space. I crave the silence but I know if I had a day of nothing, I'd grow anxious. I would start another side-hustle whilst learning how to juggle and do the splits. I'd make myself busy.
Not a good idea for someone who is physically, emotionally and mentally, a f*cking mess.
I know I'm a mess.
I once cried to models at an ASOS photoshoot I organized because I thought I hadn't eaten the whole day, only to find a half-eaten veggie wrap in my schoolbag. That was my dinner in the evening and breakfast the next morning.
I'm the most functional dysfunctional mess you'll meet, but I'm still a mess nonetheless.
Work is piling up, law school makes me cry, graduation is looming over me, and don't get me started on relationships. My life is crumbling. I'm barely clinging on with chipped nails gripping at the edges. At least I'm still here and alive.
Sometimes, I think that's the best thing I do now.
"I'm still alive and I have to stay alive," has been my main mantra since I was nineteen. I don't know if that's a good thing anymore.
I'm about to graduate. That terrifies me. It's the time where I need to find a place in this world, wherever that is, or else I'm going to float through as I have the past three years. I'm not ready at all. Staying alive is great, I'm breathing and I'm okay. I just have to start living again.
God help me.
How was your 2018?
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