It took 19 months, a second wave, and the urge to get my fingers typing again. Blogging has always been cathartic, a great way to spill my anxieties into the internet void. Thinking maybe I could write any troubles away, and hoping that it would all be okay in the end.
It's been a process.
I have been blogging on-and-off for six years now. I started when I was sixteen and I just turned twenty-four barely two months ago.
The past six years can only be described as tumultuous as expected. The movies and books I watched as a kid never quite prepared me for what young adulthood would actually be like. I laughed a lot, cried a lot and I grew up. Hopefully for the better. And this little corner of the internet has been with me, through thick and thin.
It's been the corner I have been able to share makeup tips, and fashion inspiration, and complain. Mostly complain if I'm being honest.
Every few months or so, I would read back old blog posts from different eras of my life. My eyes passing through the screen, wondering why I barely recognized myself. I don't look like that anymore. My hair is much longer and dyed brown, I have put on healthy weight and my smiles are real this time. The colours seem more saturated.
I find that good.
It's like an archive of my mental state at that specific moment. I am reminded of nights I would write than study or walks back to my student dorm while I listen to the same Taylor Swift song on repeat. It is the long car rides in silence with people I don't see anymore. It is crying on the bus after a day in London. It is youth captured forever on the internet.
Funny how life passes so fast.
At twenty-four, I know I still got a lot of life to live.
I am not where I thought I would be when I first started Hey Bash. I am much older but still itching to make the silly decisions that sixteen-year-old me would have wanted. Experiencing as much as I can, then a little bit more.
I hope you'll join me.
With love, Bash
instagram: @bashharry | tiktok: @bashharry | twitter: @heybash
Bet you wanna skip my calls now,
Well guess what? I like that."
Whether sarcastic or otherwise, its concept rings true to me. A generation without love as a necessity or opportunity. We have made unloving mainstream. Breaking hearts and having hearts broken is an infinite cycle we play every few weeks.
Never. I've got plenty to spare. Wrapped in bows to give away like gifts to strangers. Truly, I think I yearn for it. Just as many now do and always have. The desire to feel loved and be in love isn't new. All the great stories were built upon it.
Romeo & Juliet.
Orpheus & Eurydice.
Paris & Helen.
They all ended in tragedy. So few good stories end happily. Yet we still crave it. The feeling of love, forgetting that it will end as does all things.
And that's okay.
To be young and in love is beautiful, even if it is temporary. Even when you know it is temporary. Even when you know heartbreak is inevitable. It becomes valuable.
They tell you, "I'm here, I'll always be here." In a fleeting moment of bliss, you believe them. You kiss their forehead and whisper, "I'm yours, as much as you are mine."
And you almost believe it.
After all, they are only temporary.
It sounds silly but there's something right about being in your own bed. I spent three years moving houses, sleeping in different beds but never feeling quite right. When I came back home, I laid on my old bed and slept till the afternoon. I woke up in a familiar place, sunlight peaking in.
I felt safe, I felt good.
2. OPENING UP TO SOMEONE
I never heard a term for this until my first year of Uni. Late night in the James Owen Court Halls, a friend and I had tea without creamers, sharing stories from Brunei and Kenya among others. I remember seeing his eyes glint as he went on, missing his friends across this wide world. It was a feeling I knew well. Later, he thanked me for this 'DMC.'
"What's that?" I asked.
"Deep Meaningful Conversation, D.M.C."
Oh.
3. ACCOMPLISHING A LIFE-LONG GOAL
Last year, my first pilot premiered.
They hired me as a writer, so I wrote the repilot of their miniseries. I was too busy and exhausted to get excited over it then, not to mention I was 8000km away. Now though, I think about my first professional writing experience. It was recently nominated for Best Asian Drama at the First Asia Content Awards.
I did that, no one can take that away from me.
4. FINISHING A GOOD BOOK
There are some books that get you emotionally invested, your eyes glued to the pages. This happens sometimes but rare enough that it leaves you drained once you closed the paperback. Your mind racing from the plot or the prose. It's rare that it happens now, but when it does...damn.
If I could recommend a book, that would be Angie Thomas' The Hate U Give or It's Not About The Burqa: Muslim Women on Faith, Feminism, Sexuality, and Race.
Both are amazing.
5. LONG WALKS ALONE
A little melancholic but I like it.
When I lived closer to town and the nights were colder, I'd just take walks. I would grab the closest jacket and head out the door, just to walk from one end of town to the other. I'd sit outside with my headphones in to sit somewhere new and scenic, on bus benches as I watch drunks coming home from the pub.
It was just the right kind of loneliness.
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.
My Three Stories of Sexual Harassment
Now, I can look forward to the blog posts I will write this 2018. Goodness knows how those will be.
JANUARY
- Posted my thoughts on 2016 where I questioned why the year felt so horrible. Long story short, mental illness is still stigmatised but rather than repress, it's better to seek help. Which I did in January, and I am so proud that I did.
- Invited to my first London Fashion Week. I consider it a great (if not terrifying) learning experience, meeting new people and realising I wasn't alone in the madness. It was four days of clothes, shows and more clothes. By the end of it, I was so happy to be back in Exeter. You can watch My Fashion Week Vlog here.
- After three years, three dentists and too much paper work, I took off my braces. Finally. Once the dentist pulled the metal cage off, I saw my teeth bare for the first time. And realised how small they were. One insecurity lost, another insecurity gained.
- Visited my friend in Cambridge. He claimed Cambridge was prettier than Exeter, and he was right. It was beautiful and scenic, and made me feel more disappointed I didn't get into University of Cambridge.
- I watched Jon Bellion perform. It was my first concert, a small arena in Shepherd's Bush. I waited half an hour before he came on stage. He sang my favourite songs. The crowd cheered on, and I screamed my throat away. It was amazing.
- Watched Harry Potter And The Cursed Child. The security personnel told me I was the happiest fan he ever met. I told him I didn't know I was watching until two weeks before. Meeting the original cast and having them sign my book was truly a dream come true.
- I published an article for Accessorize, writing tutorials on How To Tie Your Hijab. It was an incredible opportunity for a small blogger like me. When they approached me, I immediately said yes. How exciting it was to write for them!
- Apart from a bit of heartache but nothing crushing, June was quiet. I came back to Brunei, spent three weeks sleeping in the day and celebrated Eid with my family. It was relaxing and I loved it.
JULY
- Published Head in His Clouds. I wrote this prose back in May, spending a majority of June perfecting it, and met with photographers to see it come to life. The photos resonated with the post. To this day, It is perhaps my favourite piece I published so far.
- Attempted VEDA and succeeded! Well, 95% but that's still an A. I filmed and uploaded a video every day in August, ranging from Literal Five Minute Makeup to Spoken Word to Carpool Karaoke. Most of the month was spent working in creating daily, I almost forgot I turned 20.
- Went to my second London Fashion Week. I found myself experiencing a full week of LFW, with invitations to, at least, one show a day. It was such a long week that I had to condense each day to three different posts, chronicling Day 1, Day 2 & 3, and Day 4 & 5 respectively.
- Performed in Exeter for the first time. I took the initiative to join the Creative Writing Society, which in turn, inspired me to perform Head in His Clouds. My friends watched and clapped, they never saw me perform until then. I hope they enjoyed it.
- Did Three Days of Halloween, or alternatively titled Three Days of SFX Makeup which I haven't done in years. I dressed up as a half-ripped face skeleton, then scarred Red Riding Hood then Corpse Bride. Guess which is my favourite. (It’s the one where I painted my whole face blue)
- Joined University of Exeter International Forum Market. The BruEx Society was invited to join, selling our local food on campus. I dressed in a traditional Baju Kurung, forgetting it was 2 sizes too small. Regardless, the society raised money and shared a little bit of Brunei to our university.
- Went to EUFC Christmas Dinner. A lot of my friends are fencers, and somehow, I’ve managed to infiltrate the club much to their displeasure. As such, I went to their Christmas Dinner and had a wonderful time feeling festive with my friends. We danced the night away, with joy stitched across our sleeves.
Now, we have 2018 to look towards.
Candy cotton skies, swirling purple and yellow and reddish hues, climbing atop the world. Then drifting off to sleep by dusk.
2. My Family.
7020 miles away, through an 18 hour flight and 2 transits. They annoy me, they bother me, they irritate me but I miss them regardless.
3. Friends.
The ones I have now, and those I once had. We fill rooms with our laughter. We sing out of tune in cars. We loved so much and yet it still wasn't enough.
4. The Weather.
Cold wind brushing against skin, turning my cheeks pink. The layers upon layers I wear to brave the air. It's a small reminder I'm no longer in tiny South East Asia. That makes me so happy.
5. Sweets.
Delicate hot chocolate or sour gummy bears, anything I get my hands on. I love biting into a lolly, and finding a surprise. Candy will always be my favourite sinful treat.
6. Strangers.
I meet some wonderful people I know I will never meet again. They tell me stories of their grown-up children, or how pretty my dress looks. Those kind smiles I receive outweigh the glares I get.
7. Flowers.
I will be first to admit my distaste for them as gifts, but the first to mention my favourite are white roses. If we never had flowers, they would have never inspired poetry. What a dull world to live in.
8. Ink.
My fingers are perpetually ink-stained from bad pens. I don't hate it though. When I notice a blue spot on my finger or a short to do list on my palm, I know I'm writing and that's all I want.
9. White Noise.
When I forget my headphones, I listen to the silence instead. You hear cars driving by, old women speaking in their native tongue, bells ringing and coffee machines buzzing. The world is full of music.
10. Neon Lights.
Especially at night. The bright signs of corner stores and cheap food joints excite me more than they should. It reminds me the night is awake, even if I am not.
11. Long Walks.
I walk more now. Over 10,000 a day almost everyday. Living far from friends will make you move. I often complain as I am late. But I need those quiet walks alone sometimes, it clears my head.
12. Home.
A home doesn't have to be a house, but it could be.
Where I slip my stockings off, make hot Hibiscus tea, and unwind in an unmade bed. Sometimes, it is another place like a familiar cafe where the cashier knows my order before I speak. Other times, it is a person who shares the same story over and over but I still act surprised at the ending.
Whatever, wherever and whoever home is, I am happy to have a home.
It's those minute things I love, ones I'll forget until they are gone. Though I'm not festive, I like to take this time to acknowledge my luck and privilege many don't have. There are people without homes, sleeping in streets this winter, and we can do little to help.
But we can still help.
Centrepoint is a UK-based charity, aiming to help and sponsor homeless youth. More than 150,000 young people are homeless due to finance, abusive families, mental illness etc. Centrepoint provides housing, health support and life skills during these times.
You can make a one time donation of £18 to fund a safe place, or monthly £5 donation to pay for vital basics. The money will provide young people with a future, which is something we all deserve.
Thank you so much.