...

It was always harder at night, when she couldn’t ignore the ache in her heart, when there was no work to keep her mind busy, no-one to crack a joke and make her laugh even if it make her feel guilty.

It was always harder when she had the time to punish herself, to wonder if things might had been better is she was different, if she was stronger, if she was enough.  

She liked being alone, or at least she had repeated it to herself so many times that she actually started to believe it, but being alone with her head was sometimes overwhelming.

She pads to the empty bathroom slowly, with a fake tranquility that she has learned to master. A glimpse at the mirror, wanting to find something she’s not even sure what it is, and then her body slowly descends against the wall until it touches the cold tile.

A long arm reaches for the switch turning the lights off, like she doesn’t want anyone to see it, like it matters, though she’s all alone. In pure instinct she curls into her own body, crunches in, as if she could protect her heart, shield it against the things she doesn’t want to fear but knows she can’t avoid. Pressing her hands against her head, her palms covering her hears, in a silly attempt to shut up the screams that are not happening anymore, but still feel real. Struggling to find a reason to keep believing, desperately not wanting to give up, and at the same time wishing she could vanish to somewhere else. 

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What’s the point of managing to touch people if you cannot touch the life you want?

There are choices people do about their lives I don’t think I’ll ever be able to understand. I’m not judging, I just don’t get how mess up someone has to be to want to harm themself.

It must be daunting not to see another way, it must be really sad to feel so trapped that you risk it all for 10 minutes of pleasure, it must be awful not to be able to stop, it must be terrible to be so desperate that you need to resort to this stuff to make you to want to live.

It must suck, I’m sure it does, and it’s a disease, whether most people are aware of it or not. And just like any other disease people didn’t chose to be sick, but unlike some other diseases these people can put an end to it. They need help, they need support, but most of all they need to want to get out of it, they need to realize they deserve better, that despite all the things that we hate about life, it’s still worth living.

We can say that we’re over, we can fear that the damage is too big, we can even say we don’t believe anymore, but deep inside the hope never dies, not when it’s someone you love, not when you’re sure that if they manage to get out of that hole you’ll forgive them everything, not when all you want is to be able to be look into their eyes and see the sweet innocent child you saw once. 

What Happens When You Live Abroad/O que Acontece Quando Vives no Estrangeiro

Nota: Versão Portuguesa mais abaixo

What Happens When You Live Abroad

It’s not often that I find a piece that I love so much. I do tend to find small quotes interesting, but usually when it comes to bigger works it always gets to a point that I don’t totally agree with the point of view. Today a friend shared this article and I couldn’t stop myself from reading it. It was long, but with every sentence I was more drawn to it. It’s not easy to explain or put in words something that is so unique, it’s hard to try to make people understand how much a single experience can change your life, change you, but this author has made an excellent work. This is about someone who knows what it is to live abroad (no matter for how long). I’ve selected the parts that I loved the most. I’ll leave the link below should you wish to read the whole article. For those of you who have lived abroad, I think that, just like me you’ll see yourselves in this. For those you haven’t and always wondered what cross our mind to do it… maybe now you’ll understand.

“So many of us, when we leave our home countries, want to escape ourselves. We build up enormous webs of people, of bars and coffee shops, of arguments and exes and the same five places over and over again, from which we feel we can’t break free. There are just too many bridges that have been burned. (…) Walking streets alone and eating dinner at tables for one — maybe with a book, maybe not — you’re left alone for hours, days on end with nothing but your own thoughts. You start talking to yourself, asking yourself questions and answering them, and taking in the day’s activities with a slowness and an appreciation that you’ve never before even attempted. (…) There is a certain amount of comfort and confidence that you gain with yourself when you go to this new place and start all over again, and a knowledge that — come what may in the rest of your life — you were capable of taking that leap and landing softly at least once. (…) So you look at your life, and the two countries that hold it, and realize that you are now two distinct people. As much as your countries represent and fulfill different parts of you and what you enjoy about life, as much as you have formed unbreakable bonds with people you love in both places, as much as you feel truly at home in either one, so you are divided in two. For the rest of your life, or at least it feels this way, you will spend your time in one naggingly longing for the other, and waiting until you can get back for at least a few weeks and dive back into the person you were back there. (…) To live in a new place is a beautiful, thrilling thing, and it can show you that you can be whoever you want — on your own terms. It can give you the gift of freedom, of new beginnings, of curiosity and excitement. But to start over, to get on that plane, doesn’t come without a price. You cannot be in two places at once, and from now on, you will always lay awake on certain nights and think of all the things you’re missing out on back home.”

Autor: CHELSEA FAGAN

Link for full article

O que Acontece Quando Vives no Estrangeiro

Não é comum encontrar um texto que adore. Tenho por hábito recolher pequenas citações que acho interessantes, mas no que diz respeito a peças maiores, chega sempre a um ponto que discordo de alguma opinião ou ponto de vista. Hoje uma amiga partilhou este artigo e não consegui deixar de lê-lo. Era longo, mas com cada frase ficava mais atraída. Não é fácil explicar ou pôr em palavras algo tão único, é difícil tentar que as pessoas percebam o quanto uma simples experiência muda a tua vida, muda quem és, mas a autora consegue-o de uma maneira fantástica. Este texto fala de alguém que sabe o que é viver no estrangeiro (não importa por quanto tempo). Seleccionei algumas passagens que gostei mais. Deixo o link no final do post para quem quiser ler o artigo completo.

Para aqueles que vivem ou viveram no estrangeiro, penso que, tal como eu, se vão identificar com esta obra. Para aqueles que não o fizeram e que sempre se perguntaram o que nos levou a tomar essa decisão... talvez consigam agora percebê-lo.

Nota: Isto é uma tradução livre da versão original escrita em inglês.

“Tantos de nós, quando deixamos os nossos países, queremos escapar a nós mesmos. Construímos enormes redes de pessoas, de bares e cafés, de argumentos e exs e os mesmos sítios vezes e vezes sem conta, dos quais não conseguimos escapar. Há demasiadas pontas que têm de ser queimadas. (...) Caminhar sozinho nas ruas, jantar numa mesa para um – talvez com um livro, talvez não – és deixado sozinho durante horas, dias no fim, com nada mas os teus próprios pensamentos. Começas a falar contigo próprio, a fazer questões a ti mesmo e a respondê-las, e a falar de actividades diárias com a lentidão e apreço que nunca antes sequer tentaste. (...) Há um certo conforto e confiança que ganhas contigo mesmo, quando vais para um sítio novo e começas do início, e conhecimento que  - aconteça o que acontecer no resto da tua vida – foste capaz de dar em salto e aterrar suavemente pelo menos uma vez. (...) Assim, olhas para a tua vida, e para os dois países que a têm, e percebes que és agora duas pessoas distintas. Por muito que o teu país represente e preencha diferentes partes de ti e do que gostas na vida, por muito que tenhas formados laços inquebráveis com pessoas que amas em ambos os sítios  por muito que te sintas completamente em qualquer um deles, estás dividido em dois. Para o resto da tua vida, ou pelo menos é isso que parece, passarás o teu tempo numa ânsia constante pelo outro [país], à espera que possas voltar, nem que seja apenas por algumas semanas e mergulhar de novo na pessoa que eras lá. (...) Viver num sitio novo é algo lindo e excitante, e pode mostrar-te que podes ser quem tu quiseres – nos teus próprios termos. Pode dar-te o dom da liberdade, de novos começos, da curiosidade e entusiasmo. Mas começar de novo, entrar naquele avião, não vem sem um preço. Não podes estar em dois sítios ao mesmo tempo, e a partir de agora, vais sempre ter noites em que ficas deitado na cama a pensas em tudo o que estás a perder no outro lado."

Autor: CHELSEA FAGAN
Link para Artigo Original

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There are things you like to explore,

Others you crave to debate

Things you want to avoid

And those you want to forget

There are topics you tend to obsess

Others you’d like to understand

Topics you prefer to ignore

And those you fear to face

There are people who color your life

Others who just make you laugh

People you don’t seem to care

And those you wish you could save... 

ESE - Going Back

The place hadn’t changed much, though it had been, what? Almost four years? No, the place hadn’t change much and though she had feared not to remember her away there, she had managed to arrive almost without noticing it. Sure it had been a while since she had last drove that road, but she had done it so many times in the past that she could probably do it with her eyes closed.

She parked in the half full parking lot and took a deep breath, it was strange to be there again. She was excited about the meeting, she was curious to see who else she would find, but for some reason she was slightly nervous too. It felt strange at first to walk those corridors, to see the current students gathered at the door, to look in the cafeteria and not recognized anyone. During a quick visit to the ladies room a girl referred to her as “Madam” and she wondered if she really had changed that much since the last time she had stepped on that building.

It was still early for her appointment so she sat down with her book in the cafeteria, like she had done so many times before. Everything seemed the same and yet everything was changed. She had been so happy there, more than that, she had felt safe, at home, but now that she thought about it she had never come back. Not once. Not until this day.

She remembered the times when the faces used to be familiar. It felt odd to be there alone, but at the same time it was nice to have the chance to slowly take it all in.

She focused on her book but never lost the track at time and at 12 pm exactly she stood and walked to the office she had visited so many times in the past.

“Do you still remember where it is?” the professor asked in her last email. That made her chuckle, if there was one place she would never forget the location was Professor’s Sofia office. A room that she and her colleagues had used often during her student years, where they would seek advice, ask for new material, complain about inflexible professors and unsteady colleagues. The professor was good, she would listen, she would understand but she would never give them full reason, she would never let them use it as an excuse not to do a good work, a great work. She set the standards and earned her respect. Despite being a professor, a figure of authority, someone who would grade their work, the woman was someone down to earth that they could usually rely on to help with whatever the issue was.

And that’s what she was hoping she would still find there. She was in one of those crossroads in life where she could feel the winds of change, the problem was that she wasn’t exactly sure which path to choose.

She wasn’t exactly sure what her expectations about the meeting were, after all, They never gave us answers in this school, she thought as she was getting closer to her destination, they always made us get them on our own.

The professor had told her she had a meeting at 11.30 am, so on her way there she wondered if she should knock, worried who else she would find in the office or if she would interrupt anything. All in vain, as when she came in face with the office the door was already opened for her. She stepped in the door frame and stopped, waiting for an acknowledgment from the other woman that her presence had been noticed. When her eyes rose from the work she was finishing and she greeted her, the younger woman curved her lips into a shy smile and went in. Suddenly she had travelled back four years in time and she was just a student again.

Apart from the professor , the office was empty, and once she closed the door the pressure was off. Alexis had never been a social butterfly, but for some reason this woman made her feel comfortable. It was properly not appropriate to confess but she was almost a mother figure, someone calm, put together and that somehow managed to read her like an open book.

Alexis was shy and reserved, but ever since the first year that woman had managed to see behind her walls, which was fascinating for her. She had an image that she had built, the one that most people saw, but the professor seemed to see what would actually go through her head.

The professor had once confessed her that she was very much alike Alexis when she was young, so the girl wondered if that was how she always seemed to be so in keen with her mind.

They talked for hours and though Alexis was not great in keeping a conversation, they had so many experiences to share that it just naturally happened. The professor seemed to understand her passion for going away and discover the world, but more important than that she understood how those experiences were important for her growth, which she always felt most people didn’t. Maybe she wouldn’t either if she had never gone to that school, where people taught her that knowledge is everywhere, is just a matter of opening our eyes and reflect about your experiences.

They made a quick break for lunch and Alexis joined professor Sofia and some other professors in the cafeteria. There, being recognized by the lunch lady, seeing the familiar faces from the professors that hadn’t changed much over the years and hearing them talking about the regular school problems she started to feel a little less of an outcast.

Once the lunch was over and the professors resumed their tasks, Alexis and the professor walked back to her office to continue their chat. There was no script, no topic and yet they managed to discuss so much. They talked for three hours and the time flew. The professor was one of the only people who could understand the temptation of wanting to go back to something she had left behind, as she had dealt with the same dilemma years ago. Maybe that was why her opinion seemed more valid, because Alexis was sure she knew exactly what she felt.

In the end the professor didn’t give her the answers (like she knew she wouldn’t) but somehow between everything they talked about, her ideas seemed to have settled. There were still no certainties about the future (there never really are, right?), but she could feel the wheels turning in her brain and the engine inside her head starting to work. She knew she would figure it out soon. 

Self-esteem and self-confidence

Self-esteem and self-confidence, how to go past the barriers?

The same comment over and over again. No matter what is the topic or how long you've been involved with it, the feddback is always the same: “You have the skills, we know we can do it, if only you could believe it... You can do great. You just need to work on your self-confidence”.

How do you even build self-esteem? I mean I understand how you can promote other people's self-esteem, but does one develops its own?

The first step is identifying the problem. That's been done, and there's no doubt about it, but what does one do with that information then?

It's funny how people's opinion about someone's capabilities and skills can differ so much from the perception that that person has about herself.

It's a small curse because no matter how talented someone is, no matter how much they invest in something they'll always be holding themselves back because they simply don't believe it.

And rationally maybe they even know it doesn't make sense, but how do you change something that is such a big part of who you are? Where do you even start?

Choices, choices

Sometimes is good to go away for a few days, take a step back from your life in order to figure out the future. You don't even have to conscientiously be aware of it, but being away gives you a different perspective. You understand what you miss and those things you are not exactly forward to come back to and that shows you where you truly stand.
Being away allows you to think about alternative options. An opportunity that sometimes we don't have when we get lost in every day’s routine.

All this thinking isn't necessarily easy or pleasant, because you may realize that once again it's time to stop procrastinating and make a change in your life. And yes, change is good ( even if we always hate it and try to avoid it at first), but it's choosing the right path that's tricky. It's good to have options, but it also makes everything so much harder. How do you ever know if you're making the right choice? How does one make sure not to waste any chances or knows what will be better for the future? How to be sure when it's time to move on even if we miss what it was?