Goodbye Forever, Nadine!
My friendship with Nadine was once an unbreakable bond, a bright light in my life that brought color to each passing day. But as time went on, I could feel it slowly fading away, slipping through my fingers like grains of sand. No longer did our conversations flow effortlessly, or our laughter ring with unbridled joy. Instead, it was replaced with a cold emptiness, as if our connection was nothing more than a distant memory.
Day after day, I watched as our friendship crumbled, crushed under the weight of excuses. Classes, family, exams – they all became convenient shields to hide behind, justifications to avoid facing the truth. And as for the other nonsensical reasons, they were just that: ridiculous. Petty tricks that masked the real issue at hand.
We used to talk about everything, including our most intimate moments. But now, it was as if those moments never even existed. Our nude time, once a source of comfort and trust, was now a forbidden topic. I couldn’t understand why. What had changed? Why were we suddenly strangers to each other?
As I tried to make sense of it all, a whirlwind of emotions raged within me. Anger, confusion, hurt – they all vied for dominance, tearing at my heart with each passing day. And yet, despite it all, a part of me couldn’t help but long for the friendship we once had. I missed her, my dear Nadine, but it seemed like she was slipping further and further away with each passing day.
Perhaps it was my fault for not trying harder, for not speaking up and fighting for our friendship. But then again, maybe some things are just meant to fade away, no matter how much we try to hold onto them. And as I watched our friendship disappear into the distance, I couldn’t help but wonder if it was ever truly real to begin with.
As our middle school days drew to a close, I yearned to catch a glimpse of her, to confirm if we would attend the same high school next year. With a trembling voice, I approached her only to hear the news that she would be departing the country indefinitely. In a bittersweet moment, we embraced, tears streaming down our faces, bidding farewell for what would be our final time together.
To The High School
I finished middle school and went to high school, but I still feel like I don’t belong. Those kids around me, they’re all different and distant from me. See, in my original country, they don’t have mixed girls and boys in schools. NO. It’s just girls only or boys only everywhere. My teachers, they were all women.
But it wasn’t just in school. It was everywhere. Home, work, school. Everywhere we went, it was the same. women were always being controlled, belittled, and treated like sex objects. It was like we were living in a different world, a world where women were second-class citizens.
The constant reminder that our worth was determined by our gender. The struggle to be seen as more than just a body, a tool for men’s pleasure. It was a constant battle, a never-ending cycle of fear and oppression. Worse than that, women there were completely convinced in this. They never feel the pressure, they never feel the need to change, on the opposite they would kill and stand against any call for their freedom or liberation. And I, just a young girl, was caught in the middle of it all. Trying to navigate this unfamiliar world, trying to find my place among these girls who were raised to believe that their worth was only skin-deep.
It was suffocating, overwhelming, and it made me question everything. My identity, my worth, my future. How could I ever fit in with these girls who were molded into society’s expectations of what a woman should be? How could I ever break free from the chains that bound me to this oppressive system?
These thoughts consumed me, haunted me throughout my high school years, and yet, I continued to fight. To rise above the expectations, to challenge the norm, to be more than what society deemed me to be. And though I may have been just a young girl, I knew that I was capable of so much more. That I was more than just a girl, I was a force to be reckoned with. And I refused to let anyone, or anything, break me.
I couldn’t resist the temptation to bare it all again, to embrace the freedom of my nakedness. Despite the risks, I returned to our garden time and time again, each time feeling a rush of excitement and thrill. The exhilaration of breaking free from the chains of fear and societal expectations was like a heavy weight lifted from my soul. Every moment spent in that garden after the moon had risen and the world had fallen asleep, I felt as though I was defying the very forces that had kept me oppressed for so long. It was a rebellion, a declaration of my true self.
As I shed my clothes and stepped into the cool grass, I could feel the gentle caress of the night air against my bare skin. I could hear the rustling of leaves and the distant hoot of a bird. The moonlight illuminated my body in a soft glow, igniting a fire within me that burned brighter with each step I took. My senses were heightened, my mind clear and unburdened.
In those moments, I was not just a 16-year-old girl, but a wild and untamed creature. My body moved with a grace and confidence that I had never known before. I reveled in the sensation of the earth beneath my feet, the coolness of the grass, and the sweet scent of flowers in the air. It was as though the garden was my own personal paradise, where I could be free to be myself.
As the night wore on and the world slept, I danced under the stars, my body moving in a primal rhythm. I laughed and sang, feeling alive and unshackled. And in those moments, I knew that I was breaking the spell and the oppression that had once held me captive. I was no longer bound by society’s expectations or the fear of judgment. I was simply me, unapologetically and authentically.
STAY TUNED FOR PART 7
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