hey friends,
I hope you have been taking care of yourselves lately.
earlier this week, I went to île-de-france to visit a good friend of mine who used to be my upstairs neighbor in beirut. shortly after arriving, I took a quick look out of her window and contemplated the building facing the one she was living in. I observed the small parisian apartments with (or without) thin balconies, all decorated for Christmas; the flickering lights and the mistletoes, red and gold ornaments embellishing the once-ordinary view my friend probably got incredibly used to, red ribbons and plastic greens keeping the cold windowsills warm this season. at that moment, and again during the brief walk I took around my friend’s neighborhood, I felt emotional. I think this moment was the one time I actually understood what it means when you say that “your heart is full.” I don’t know why I got so emotionally touched by people’s Christmas decorations, but something in me felt a grayish form of peace. I could feel the tides rising in my eyes as I walked in those narrow streets or looked out of my friend’s window, and perhaps in that instant I couldn’t truly pinpoint what I was thinking, but I think I can now. it’s this one time of the year when everyone agrees on one thing: no matter what happened to us this year, we will make Christmas look like Christmas. I think I got that emotional because I momentarily acknowledged how small we all truly are, each of us in our own apartment, each of us contributing as much as we can to this bigger-than-us annual season called Christmas, each of us leading a life that looks nothing like the life of the person who kindly complimented how beautiful our Christmas tree looks this year.
on a similar note, I was on facebook the other day when I came across this post:
all these people, driving along the same highway, each driver taking that highway for a different reason. the idea that society is just one big intricate network of individual lives, each walking through a unique course, sometimes meant to intersect or even intertwine, is something that never ceases to enchant my brain. this is especially true when you meet people of a totally different culture, yet realize that you all care for and stand for the same things.
before I continue, I’d like to share with you the chorus of a popular Christmas song in lebanon, entitled “ليلة الميلاد” (“Christmas eve”, in english), and that goes like this:
on Christmas eve, hatred is erased.
on Christmas eve, the earth flourishes.
on Christmas eve, war is buried.
on Christmas eve, love grows.
on Christmas eve, love grows.
I reckon that our life stories create within us complex collections of torments, insecurities, problems, health issues, highs, lows, successes, failures, relationships, failed relationships, and so on.
I’ve talked a lot about love on this blog, with strong emphasis on friendship love or the general love for people and kindness. but this year, more than previous years, I’ve had some problems with love because I felt like I had lost it.
my dad tells this story in which, at the end of it, he asks little me if I wanted to be a good person or a bad one, and to which I confidently affirmed that I wanted to be a good one. to this day, 15+ years later, I’ve lived by this promise, and I thank God for it every chance I get. and people love good people, right? if it weren’t the case, no one would ever be friends with anyone or fall in love with anyone. so, in super simplified math terms: individuals + kindhearted intentions + acts of service + reciprocated values = long-lasting connection + strong love.
this year, however, I happened to feel like I was difficult to love, as negativity and stress had taken over a significant part of my days. I felt like I was not offering others, who already had a lot on their plates, anything but that. I felt like all I did was complain about everything and show ingratitude. I tried not to complain as much to my lebanese friends who also had their heads under water. I tried to talk to my non-lebanese friends about other things, only to find myself recurrently talking about how overwhelming everything was. I felt out of place, not just within my friend circle, but within myself. I didn’t recognize myself, and I didn’t understand how I got there. my whole life I’ve been the one to encourage looking at the sunny side of things, so witnessing myself being that bitter and dissatisfied with most things did not sit right with me. this isn’t who I am.
interruption. I have always been a highly animated person who loves using bold facial expressions, as well as vivid, colorful, hyperbolic, or even oddly specific descriptions, to help people better understand the image projected in my brain. I’ve always been a little social butterfly (ask my parents, they can confidently confirm it), and one of the things I have wanted most is to be able to translate the images and the scenes in my head into tangible stories that bring life to conversations. I made it through all my school and college years alongside groups of wonderful people who were just as animated and loud and vibrant as I was, so never in my life with them, and with other people I met and befriended, did I feel like I was too much. yet, this year I did. I felt self conscious of how loud and expressive and gesticulative I am, sometimes thinking of a cousin of mine who is just as animated as I am, and who often got weirded out looks from other people who weren’t. I was afraid of having made someone uncomfortable with the volume of my voice, the expression I made, the things I said. I was self conscious about coming on too strong on others while just trying to make new friends and make them laugh.
I started feeling that this will all soon push everyone away from me, that people would rather spend time with others who are softer, quieter, perhaps less negative, perhaps more attractive, both inside and out. so, this year, there was a good period where I felt like I didn’t belong, be it with the lebanese or the non-lebanese, that people just would rather be friends with others.
oh, but I was wrong.
as I always say, our minds can really play mean tricks on us—and for reasons I will never comprehend. it is especially true in highly demanding and stressful periods where vulnerability becomes an entire state of being—you know, when everything, every action someone else does, every remark someone gives, or every slight change in someone’s behavior, feels like that thin needle that is about to burst your overwhelmingly inflated latex balloon. this is also especially true when you’ve been repeatedly humbled by your job and you feel like you will never be good at it. however, while this rough patch for me was, for the utmost part, temporary, I can’t help but think of people who perpetually feel this way. society has a way of making us feel bad for being sensitive and for “overreacting”, but I can assure you that, having experienced this only temporarily, it sucks to feel this way at all.
our understanding of what love is, changes from one person to the other, and it’s sad to think that people only expect love to be of grandiose magnitude, or that it has to constantly be visibily proven to be true. for me, this year, my feelings of being hard to love were proven wrong by the friends who give me space when I ask for it, but who still check in on me to make sure the distance isn’t making me feel more isolated. it was proven wrong by the friends who remind you that you are more than welcomed to spend Christmas with them had the situation back home remained out of control. it was proven wrong by the friends who know you’ve been overwhelmed, so they decide to invite you to go out and play board games to get your mind off of things. it was proven wrong by my parents who understand that I sometimes don’t need advice or that I can’t just forget about the negative thing I’m sad about, and instead allow you to feel all your feels. it was proven wrong by every “I saw this and thought of you”, every “we missed you over coffee/lunch today”, every “I’d love your opinion on this”, every “thank you for being you”, every “tu es une belle personne“, every “I see that you are overwhelmed, but it’s gonna get better.”
this year, I’ve used the term “to exist” a lot, in the sense of just spending time somewhere, without interacting with any element in your surroundings, just letting every element come and go, like it’s meant to do at that given time. but to exist is to go about life in its ups and downs and extraordinarity and mundanity. and without a doubt, there is love in existing. love is found in every “good morning” you get when you pass by a stranger or go into a bakery. love is found in the heart of the cashier who complimented my eyeliner color one day, and perhaps complimented other clients, even though she doesn’t know us. love is found in the heart of the person who throws breadcrumbs for the birds to eat. love is found in the hearts of people who, instead of getting annoyed by the elderly who need more time, either patiently wait for them or help them. love is found in the heart of my landlords, who, as soon as they met me, let me know that I’m part of the family. love is found in nature, when mama bird catches the worm because she has babies to feed. love is found in every shared cup of coffee, every “hey there’s this book/song I think you’d like”, every gentle ray of sunshine that dances on your skin, every new leaf your plant grows because you have been taking care of it, every time someone you don’t know on a deeper level remembers something you said to them and asks you about it, every time someone reminds someone else that it’s important to rest, every time someone would rather have you be under the umbrella instead of themselves, every time someone smiles when they hear the name of someone they love. there is love in existing, and the love we give always finds its ways back to us.
therefore, do not be afraid to be a little more loving than you are used to being. this could vary between people, but it is important to remember some key points here:
- life is not easy, and I know that there are a lot of societal expectations; we have to do this, but not do that, act like this, act like that, say this and not say that. but, despite all of this, it’s important to simply exist whenever we get the chance to. life feels a little more okay when you do.
- you are never difficult to love if love is everything you try to give—even if, in addition to the love you give, you talk about things that are less flowery. a negative thing doesn’t overshadow a positive one, but rather exists with it. you can be a kindhearted, positive, and loving person who goes through rough patches, and doesn’t feel like themselves during that storm. because, unlike what the movies tell us, no one actually smiles and dances in the rain.
- asking for space often comes with a lot of FOMO and sometimes even a lot of guilt, but this is a reminder that it is more than okay to ask for space. distance yourself a little if you need to until you no longer do. unfollow, disconnect, deactivate. say no to coffee runs or other gatherings if you feel like you need it. people who care for you will understand. it is an act of love in itself to give your loved ones some space.
- do not ever, EVER, think that your acts of love are for nothing. a good friend of mine once said to me “just because people do not reciprocate it, means that you shouldn’t have done it. on the contrary, you will continue to do it because that is who YOU are” (paraphrased), and I’m going to leave you with that. no act of love is ever wasted—on the contrary, it contributes to this bigger-than-us complex network.
- look for love in the smallest details, life will be a lot lighter once you do.
love shouldn’t grow just on Christmas eve, but rather every day, in every way. keep living in love, taking care of love, spreading love, teaching love, and accepting love. and merry Christmas to those celebrating and to those who aren’t for whatever reason. it is a season of Love for both, the religious and the non-religious, but don’t let it wilt after this. and to those for whom Christmas is difficult every year, a special thought to you. sending you all warm hugs and happier thoughts. xx
PSA: we made it, we’re ten years old.
ten years since the beginning of found a new home. ten years of talking about feelings and thoughts and love and friendship. thank you to every person who has ever encouraged me to continue writing and posting. thank you to every person who read my posts. thank you, thank you, thank you. ❤
