My first love

By Mimi

Human bends perspectives just like how a potter moulds clay turning it into different shapes of liking.

I realised this truth much sooner than I could comprehend. The summer which was supposed to be filled with warmth turned out to leave a wound which still bleeds. That was the summer I met my first love; he showed me the different facades people carry within them and the hidden part of human psyche. From then the season lost its tenderness to me and changed into a graveyard of lost innocence.

Surely, he was charming with his honey dipped lies disguised as promises. He was everything a teenage girl would crush on and eventually the path to maturity.

I experienced emotions which I have never heard of. For the first time I could describe happiness without stuttering. So, when the knife of betrayal pierced my heart, the line between joy and pain blurred dramatically. He used my love towards him to satisfy his desires and then publicly shamed me for it. My vulnerability was used as a weapon against me to protect his own pride while my opinions were locked away to protect my dignity. That is when I realised that the world isn’t a fair place, the upper hand is already designated to someone superior. My autonomy to explain my sufferings were taken away, while in the meantime the elders were weighing my identity against the dignity scale. Teachers who were entitled to protect me were the very ones who humiliated me in front of my peers, the place which was meant to be a safe haven was in reality a living testimony of my dishonour.

Sometimes I dream of that scared and isolated child, carrying the same face of mine yet unrecognisable. The pain has subsided yet the grief is heavy. The stares I received when my character was being dissected from the people, I considered friends has been permanently imprinted on my soul.  But I have transformed into someone my past self would have never imagined. I have healed myself and picked up all the shattered pieces. It was never easy. My biggest foe was myself, who doubted her potential and abilities. But with passing time everything becomes endurable. There will always be a crisis in one’s lifetime which will alter the way their brain functions, it’s totally humane to break down. There were moments where my eyes couldn’t find any beauty in life. It’s crucial in those times to not allow access to the thought of giving up. It took me a long time to realise, a story which is already written can be changed. It’s not the end, just the beginning of another one. All it takes is a voice, brave enough to question the ongoing unfair practices and inspire others to challenge it too.

It taught me not to ever bow down because the world demanded me to. The mere thought of noticing and accepting injustice didn’t align with my morals. Hence, I fought. Attempts to deliberately change the narrative won’t always bear a shape which is desired, in the end integrity triumphs.

Mimi is an emerging writer from India whose works are mostly driven by emotional turmoil.