turning twenty-two

I had intended to compose and post my Syawal blogpost before getting to this – but I'm turning twenty-two on thursday, I need to let out what I need to let out.

right.

recently, I've been recalling a lot of memories that I've had from when I was sixteen years old. that year was a year of immense change for me, and I never knew how far I would grow after the incidents that had happened on that year.

back then, I knew I was going through something, but I just didn't know what. I had gotten closer to several of my classmates, and I let myself be influenced by their presence. not to say that I regretted those friendships – I don't – but perhaps I could've made wiser and smarter decisions.

I disappointed a lot of people, especially myself. but I didn't let that phase me – I kept pushing myself until I snapped. and that was scary. I was taken out of school before the term had ended, but I was given a chance to move on to the next year so that I could complete my IB diploma and graduate from SOTA. initially, I had planned on leaving SOTA and go to Ngee Ann Polytechnic, because they had courses on Early Childhood there. however, our school system would render me unqualified to switch schools just like that.

what with my diagnosis, and the pressure placed on me as a student, I knew that I had to stay strong and fight. not everybody gets second chances, so I was determined to better when I started the school term again as a year 5 student.

of course, my classmates and close friends noticed how different I was.

I became so quiet and distant that the question, "why are you so quiet?" became a daily occurrence. I never answered, for the fear of them not accepting me, and because I didn't want to have to explain myself.

I came clean about my condition to a few friends at first, and after a while, they apologised for asking why I had changed.

several months passed, and I kept my head in my books and studied harder. I did grow complacent after the first semester, but after receiving my results and having consultations with my vice-principals (and several other teachers who knew) – I took it as a wake up call.

it's not easy having to wake up and battle your mind every single day.

six years ago, I was deluded – thinking that I was capable of handling everything while maintaining my grades.

...and this happened again two years ago.

now that I'm re-starting the semester as a year two student, the bitter memories that came before the first time I was a year two student in university have been lingering on my mind too.

my hesitance an indication of my reluctance to share what went down back then – but I've learnt a lot from my past.

1. do not over-commit:

I've been wondering what CCAs I would take up during the next semester, then I realised how packed my schedule is. I'm already working on the weekends, and finishing my diploma in Islamic Studies (I only have two modules to retake and I'll be done!). also, I've promised certain mothers to tutor their children on the weekdays, and I don't go back on my word – especially when it comes to education.

I would love to re-join Aikido again, and maybe even MJ – but it's best that I take it easy this semester. I'll probably just go back to MD if they'll have me.

2. be sincere in your apology:

saying sorry first matters. back in 2015, my pride blinded me to thinking that everything would be alright – despite the errors that I've made. you can't undo what has been done – the best thing you can do is to be sincere in your apology, and to not repeat that mistake again.

we all make mistakes. that's because we're human.

what matters is what we do after that mistake. if we truly want to become better versions of ourselves, then we have to be sincere in our apology, and our actions thereafter.

forgiving ourselves matter too.

there are countless of times that I've thought about a mistake I've made in the past, and regretting it instantly/start feeling remorseful about it – but then I remember that that was in the past – and the past is aways behind you.

say sorry to yourself, then don't repeat that mistake again.

3. letting people go:

there are many times in my life that I've thought about the people who were once close to me, and how utterly enamoured I was with them and their presence in my life. but people come and go, and I have to be okay with that.

I've had to distance myself from overbearing friends/classmates at certain times in my life, and that's okay. everybody has choices and options to make, and them leaving me/us growing apart is a normal part of life.

when life does give us a chance to get back together again, it's up to us to take that chance or to leave.

4. holding onto the people who matter:

after going through what I've gone through in my 21 years of existence, I realise how holding onto the right people matter. these people are the people who encourage you to pursue your dreams, and who confront you because they know that you can grow into a better version of yourself.

5. knowing your limits:

as a continuation to point number one, knowing your limits is important. pushing yourself too hard to complete whatever you need to complete when you're overcommitted can affect your performance as a student.

6. sorting out your priorities:

this is especially important when you have responsibilities to uphold and duties to complete. back then I didn't think much about the deadlines, and simply did what seemed right. I neglected what was crucial, and prioritised the tasks that I would enjoy doing more.

having that sort of mentality/behaviour took it's toll when it came down to final submissions/assignments. when it came to delivering what was expected, I could not deliver to the best of my abilities because I had too little time.

I used to be able to complete what I had to complete as quickly as possible back in freshman year. but we live and we learn, and I've learnt how important it is to set practical expectations on yourself as a student and how time management matters.

7. Allah first, always:

she writes as her last point. but really though – when you put Allah first, there's a lot of hidden blessings that come your way. I thought about including this point as I was praying Asar earlier.

...

now that I have a somewhat better control over my life, I just hope that I can continue being a good/better version of myself: the me who is a daughter, student, writer, teacher/tutor, and friend.

ready to write her next posts,
this girl you call nurul.

ps: with only ten nine days left of july, I'm going to try my best to post the blogposts that I've promised myself to publish this month.
pps: the photos included in this post are those I took back in 2011, back when life was much more simpler for me.

Reaching July

how is it the seventh month of the year already? the year I turn twenty-two (although I already am twenty-two in the islamic calendar) has been really amazing and meaningful so far. by the time I reached july, I thought I would have been done with all the stories (including the illustrations/covers) that I owe my publishers, I'll be re-starting the next semester as a year two student in NTU, ADM, and I'll be (I was about to write financially stable) pocket strong (as one of my auntie besties/ex-colleague from Singapore Art Museum once told me).

I wrote a letter to june, and I wanted it to be month of healing. it was, and I am so, so grateful. growing up isn't easy – but I made it out alive and well. my education/academic path seems uncertain for now, and that's fine. after explaining my situation to a closer soul sister from school, she assured me, "...and don't worry, there's more than just one path in life. isn't that what makes life interesting."

that's true.

I may not even be graduating from NTU, and that's okay.

I've been recalling conversations that I had with my foundation classmates during freshman year – and how several classmates had to struggle with their pre-tertiary education before attaining a spot in university.

I always told them how I never wanted to be in ADM, because I never wanted to pursue a degree in the arts.

"six years in SOTA was enough. I grew to hate what I love, and to take a bachelors degree in the arts was the last thing I wanted to do."

but back then I had limited options. my international baccalaureate diploma score wasn't the most amazing – yet, I was offered a spot in this school – so I accepted it. initially, I wanted to take my diploma in Early Childhood Education/Psychology at Ngee Ann Poly, then continue taking my bachelor's degree in Early Childhood Education at Singapore Institute of Technology (because the IB diploma could not qualify for the course offered at SIT).

now there is an option to pursue what I've always wanted to: a bachelor's degree in Early Childhood at Singapore University of Social Sciences.

I suppose that the events that have unfolded in my life so far can be taken as blessings in disguise. when I had my Girls Day In with my closer girlfriends from SOTA, one of them told me that my parent's decision to make me continue my tertiary education locally was a good thing. I know how advanced the Early Childhood Education scene is in Sydney and Melbourne – but my parents discouraged me from applying to overseas university for the sake of my mental health.

back when we were SOTA students and attaining our IB diploma was our priority (because we only had our PSLE and a "completion-of-four-years-secondary-education" certificate), my girls disliked that I wanted to go to a polytechnic, instead of a university.

"no, you would already have a diploma – so you should just further your studies in a university!"

when I got my results I was pleased with my progress – but I had certain conversations that brought my self-esteem down (leading to my severe depression, and the panic/anxiety attacks that came with it). I was so upset when ADM offered me a place in their school, but grateful, so I followed my parents advice and took it.

of course, I was overcome by insecurities by my fear of the unknown, but having heard stories from the people I met during my freshman orientation camp eased my state of being. we confided in each other and I learnt how they too, had to overcome their fair share of struggles to get to where they want to be.

if I hadn't gone to university, I wouldn't have met the people who become my friends. these strangers who share their load and burdens with me because we grow to trust each other inevitably become my family. and of course, I've had to come to terms with the people who have made the choice to leave me.

looking back at my life, and at the people who have come and gone – I can say for certain that everything does happen for a reason. whether that reason is clear to us or not (or the truth behind those reasons will be revealed eventually), everything in life has shaped us into the people that we are today.

I still remember the words I've read on the pages/wordpress/blogs from other individuals who have made an impact on my life as a fellow writer and human being. we've all changed – sometimes those changes are more obvious, while other changes that we observe are more subtle.

change is the only constant in this life, and it's necessary for growth.

we all have it in us to change ourselves for the better.

this Ramadan has certainly taught me how much I need to work on myself. the things I wanted to get done were finished – but there are things that I've yet to complete. we all have our limitations, flaws, and imperfections – those are the qualities that make us human.

this is the first of several blog posts I will be publishing this month (for I am swamped with writing at the moment). look out for the next few: those specifically for Syawal, and others based on the conversations I've had around love.

homesick for the warmth of my soul family,

this writer still writing,

nurulhuda.

Life updates 2.0

It's been a good 3+ months, m'dear

I've left SAM. Three months together – it was good while it lasted. At the beginning I was so excited. It'd be my first time ever experiencing a relationship like this.

Almost everyday I'd leave the house in anticipation to come meet him and the rest, my heart fluttering at the thought of being together for a whole day.

Learning under his guidance was enriching. Experiencing the fatigue was new to me. I'd been sheltered all my life; the others I'd nearly committed myself to were never enough.

Our lives got routinely towards our second month. I'd go over, set-up whatever was assigned and blazed through the first half of the day. Lunch became a mundane necessity that pulled me through the next half. Walking away from him felt like the only highlight of the day. I'd expected it, just like in the stories I've read and seen. Mentally preparing myself just wasn't enough.

Then I snapped.

It was terrifying. I hadn't expected this to happen to me, to us. Our other friends had to intervene. I was embarrassed, ashamed, and it was hard to face him again. Things couldn't go "back to normal" like they used to. It kept replaying over and over again in mind – it wasn't healthy – for the both of us, and the ones around us. Slowly, I started to distance myself, finding excuses not to leave the house. I was appalled at my own behaviour.

Two more weeks. Two more weeks and it'll be over.

I didn't think I'd ever hand to him that letter. I remember the first few days we spent together. I was so gung ho about it, so happy and willing to make it work.That was then, and I had to face reality. Two weeks didn't seem like much, given the time we'd already spent together, but it was excruciatingly difficult. Not just for me, but for my loved ones too. This relationship was costing more trouble than it was worth.

The days didn't seem to inch closer. They seemed stretched and far away, like I had to run a mile before I crossed the finish line. I couldn't run. I barely had the will to walk, let alone smile like he expected me to.

On the last day together, I was happy to be leaving. Which was sad, in a bittersweet way. There were so many pleasant memories we had shared with others but that one day clouded those memories.

Walking away from him felt exhilarating, given my state for the past weeks.

I'll still visit, see you soon!
I'll miss you, but you'll see me again.
Goodbye.

I hadn't announced my departure to the rest of our friends. I wanted to disappear and leave, as if my existence throughout my stay with him was like a dew drop rolling off a leaf. Beautiful, but temporary.


Nurul xx

ps: How's that for a bit of writing? I've hardly gotten in touch with my writer side – and describing a temporary job experience as a relationship was certainly worth the time. With all that said and done, I'll spend the rest of my July relaxing, crafting and having a meaningful Ramadhan.