Theloopylululog

The world can be a cruel, unforgiving, and terrible place for the silent, introspective little one who does not know they are different but is made aware of it, rather horribly, by everyone around them.

And it was to earlier versions of me.

The world can slowly turn these aloof ones into vengeful people unable to forgive, bottling up every pain, becoming antsy, and spewing angst at everyone and everything—someone who hasn’t yet learned to let go.

As it was the case with many versions of me.

If there is one thing Lulu of the past couldn’t process or figure out an easy way to learn, it was how to let things go.

She was criticized for being small, dark, reed-thin, and shy, with a stutter. From being called derogatory names like black bear, black coal (redundant much?), LCD screen, blackie, and black tiger (although I kinda liked this one) in school, to being termed unmarriageable for being size zero, with boobs the size of lemons and hips that couldn’t bear children (their words, not mine) by extended family—my younger self, much to my surprise, scraped through her life without taking any life or breaking anyone’s balls, heads, or legs…the works.

I am in awe of her for living a Gandhian life. But being nonviolent toward the world meant she projected it all onto herself. All the rage suppressed within made her a deeply conflicted, self-sabotaging girl, swimming in self-hate.

Much of the angst came from her finding it extremely difficult to let go—to forgive and forget. Peace was something she begged for in her prayers. Freedom from her memories was a superpower she deeply desired and asked every passing angel to bless upon her.

Alas…

It took me many moons to finally come to terms with my past.

So what’s something I’ve done my past self would be proud of?

Learning the Art of Letting Go and Forgiving What Cannot Be Changed.

Sometime in 2019, I fell deeply in love. Just like that. One day, I was single. The next, I wasn’t.

Being in love made me a bold, courageous woman, finally ready to cut the cords with a painful past and create a life on a clean slate, starting afresh toward a bright new future that was beckoning me.

Though the relationship didn’t last long, it taught me to face myself. The nakedness of the pain inside left me in horror. The sheer power of the volcano I carried within me left me questioning whether I had really succeeded in living a life worth its time and effort.

The relationship ended while I was in the midst of discovering who I was beyond my past. Feeling unanchored, I hit rock bottom; I was a tangled mess.

The default mode of my younger self screamed, “Suicide!” My wiser self chose the more difficult yet sensible option—therapy.

In hindsight, that would probably be the move my younger self would appreciate and be most proud of. She had wanted to check into therapy for decades. She couldn’t for reasons known only to her.

My older and wiser version did something my younger self didn’t have the courage or means to do.

I am proud my younger self lived by Gandhian philosophy, but that was a half-cooked life, lived by numbing her own pain while absorbing the pain inflicted on her.

Today, I am proud to live my life according only to Lulu’s philosophy of Hata Saawan Ki Ghata (for the uninitiated, it means something like “cut the crap, forget about it, and move on” ).

If somebody were to bully me today, I would make sure they paid the price. I would forgive them, but only after making it clear that I won’t take it lying down like my helpless younger self.

Today if someone makes fun of my life or my life choices, I don’t stop to explain, clarify, or justify myself to them. Neither do they deserve my time, nor do I deserve to waste it on them.

I know one thing: I am living the life my younger self nearly gave up on, a life filled with self-love, self-esteem, self-respect, self-acceptance, and self-forgiveness.

The life she didn’t get to live, but would be proud of me for living it as fully as possible.

And that is all that matters.