Trapped In the Eyes of a Stranger

You get attached to a version of yourself that no longer exists. Or maybe you miss someone you haven’t even met. You constructed a character that only exists in your mind. You collected its positive and negative traits from both real and fictional characters. You have created other social and cultural rules that your morals approve of; a whole new separate universe that only you can understand; only you can live in.

The dilemma strikes harder after a while. You realise that your body is trapped in the country you are in, with all of its cultural, societal and religious concepts. The truth that your body and mind are two separate entities that refuse to collaborate or to coexist gets harsher as months and years go by. And as you grow older, your values, beliefs, and views develop rather than just change. You have read too many books that your brain cannot accept the norm or fall for the idea of repeated days, weeks, months, and years, and then dare to call it a life. You have involved yourself in situations and worlds in real life and literature that it became so hard to digest a routine or a monotonous pace of life. Your sense of belonging is distorted, and you cannot tell if it is in a bad or a good way. The same things that make you feel you do not belong are the same very things that make you feel special, that make you feel you. You are always the misfit, the weirdo, the odd, but you always viewed it peculiarly and uniquely. However, at some point, you start questioning yourself, you start questioning the abnormals that you consider norms and the norms that you consider abnormal, you start inspecting your oddity and think that you are worthless, helpless, and worse, aimless. The point is not embracing diversity, accepting all religions, or even just tolerance and adaptability. The thing is more complicated than that.

In other words, it is when you look in the mirror and think that you are trapped in the eyes of a stranger. You catch your reflection by the corner of your eye and you feel surprised that this is you. You stare at your face for ages, trying to familiarise yourself with its corners and edges but still, it looks unfamiliar. Your soul doesn’t feel home in your own body and your body reflects a character that is not yours either. You feel alienated from your physical body, room, home, town, country, and the whole universe. Your mind starts fighting, urging you to move your body to different place, countries, and nations, but still, you feel homesick. Your mind convinces you that maybe if you lost weight or gained some, if you changed your hairstyle, or if you changed the way you dress, you will know your physical self and feel home, but the outcome is shockingly discomforting. Your restless soul is still struggling to find its final solace, and you feel like scratching your skin off so your real self could be exposed, but it is unrealistic and undoable. After enough time, your mind gives up.

There is no place on earth that can contain your homesick soul, your homesick heart. But even when the body gives up, the mind won’t. Overthinking becomes a ritual that you cannot get rid of; creating wider and more complicated universes and worlds in your mind is endless, pointless though. Is it pointless? Is it better to live in one’s own universe rather than just being trapped in the physical world? We are already all trapped, but isn’t better to create fictional worlds within our minds to ease the pain? A human would think that this is a guaranteed way to understand his self better, but is it? You just keep on diving and diving and diving till you hit the bottom, and you realise that the ocean that you just dived into is just an abstract concept that your mind created to escape the land and be alone.

How could a human reach the ultimate understanding of what he wants? Or maybe we all know what we want, and we know exactly how to achieve it, however, the physical world isn’t helping. The physical world is just too ….. physical, too rigid. But the mind’s world is magical, mystical, interesting. It makes me go places, experience love with no limits, and have real fictional friends for a change. It sounds weird, right? Real and fictional friends I mean. How can fictional friends be real? Yes, they can. You just need to understand and remind yourself regularly that your mind created these unreal real friends, but they exist, they comfort, they confront even, and they accompany you in your loneliest days, because at the end of the day you stay alone at night and ask yourself, or your real fictional friends, too many questions that need to be answered or else you will go mad. A human already struggles to embrace the sweet insanity that is within but need not struggle further and not be able to converse with the people living within the abstract limitations of the mind.

Being trapped is not only physical but rather mental and psychological, leading women through an experience that only can be communicated and expressed with strength, not weakness. Feeling homeless does not mean that a woman has no home, but rather relates to being restless. Thousands of women around the globe would have though their life would have been different if they were bodyless or genderless, and as a result, they form an internal planet where they can shamelessly be who they really are.

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