My journey that never ends

By the time you finish reading this, nothing and everything will have changed. Hopefully, we will look forward and onwards, but for now, I will take you inwards and backwards.

My foot is steady on the pedal, and logically, that should mean we are moving on, shouldn’t it? But no, this road will lead to nothing and to nobody. Except for yourself and your thoughts, should I do my job correctly.

Golden hour is the promise of something new, the calm before it all starts. I breathe in the air from my open window, grab my coffee, and gulp it down. I let out a high-pitched laugh. Finally, I’ve done it. I packed up and left. No plan, nothing except my car, some CDs, and my need to drive as far away as possible.

On purpose, I’ve chosen a route that never ends. With loads of snacks and some old pop songs on, I’m having a moment, a sad moment, but it’s my moment. My very own.

Growing up invisible, I always dreamt of this day, the day when I could pack up and leave. “Wouldn’t anyone miss me?” you ask. Give it a few days, and someone might notice I’ll answer. It’s as sad as it sounds, and you won’t ask more; it’s too uncomfortable. We stay silent instead as the road goes on.

What made you feel like nothing? We think for a moment in silence. For me, it was the teachers not noticing me, the other kids never choosing me, my parents wishing I were someone else… You want me to stop?

So essentially, I am leaving nothing as I have lived like nothing. Am I naive, hoping this road will change me and make me someone? Am I delusional, thinking I could finally be someone else? Who do I even want to be? I never asked myself that question, have you?

Food for thought, I guess. Where does one even start?

I turn the music up, my feet stepping along with the beat, and in my mind I’m pretending to be in a music video, we’ve all done that, haven’t we? I look sternly ahead. When I eventually stop, who will open the door and who will get out?

I know who I’m leaving behind, and a small funeral is held in my head for the last moment of being invisible. My life as I’ve known it is over now. It has to be. I slam my hands on the steering wheel to anchor my determination. Roughly, I pull my hair tie out and throw it in the wind; my hair is messy and free now. The new me is emerging as I fearlessly drive on.

In my rearview mirror, I see a version of myself I’ve never seen before. My cheeks are rosy, my curls are free and shining in the sun, but my eyes are still empty. There’s nothing there. Yet I know there’s a depth to me, there’s a spark somewhere. I don’t know how to find it after a lifetime, not even knowing I should have one.

The ups and downs will confuse, inspire, and cause despair. Don’t worry if it gets too awkward and dark. I’ve been there many times, and I’ll guide you as I try to find my feet again. The feeling of no one ever looking in my direction is not unique, yet it makes me feel intensely alone. In my attempt to fit in, I’ve disappeared.

Trying to look like everyone else with the clean girl aesthetics and hairdos did nothing except what it was meant to do. Make the real you blend in and become bland. Instead of being one in a million and proud, I turned myself into one of a million and sad.

The wind has made my hair messy by now, and the sun is hitting my face, bringing my freckles out. I look insane. I smile. Maybe not insane, maybe I’m just not used to myself? The true and unpolished version.

I steer the car with my knees as I pull the pearls out of my ears. Tiny and appropriate, they are, and off they go through the open window. I sing along as I drive faster. My messiness is making me eager to arrive. To get somewhere, but I need a break.

I turn the music down as I pull over to stretch my legs. The dirt is red, and dust quickly covers my trainers, not so white and pretty anymore.

I look around, the heat making it the perfect time to lose my cute cardigan, my white vest will do. My jeans are loose and comfy. I’ll grab some scissors from my bag and cut them off, the shorts showing off my legs. Legs that normally stay hidden. Not that anyone would ever look. Not that I’ve ever shown them off.

I stretch my arms out as I look around. The desert is red, rusty, and weirdly alive. I take a few deep breaths and start spinning around and around. At first, I feel awkward, stiff, and weird, hoping no one will pass me. No one does. This is a dead road going nowhere except in my mind.

I’m moving faster and faster until I get dizzy and fall to the ground. I don’t mind, it actually makes me giggle, and I don’t mind the little scratches on my hands as they hit the gravel. A big sigh escapes me. I hug my knees close and look around. A few tears fall down my cheek; they taste salty.

The relief greater than the sadness, and I feel like maybe not everything is lost. I brush the dust and sand off me as I get back to the car. One last look back as I drive off, fast, turning the music up loud. Somehow, the seat is more comfortable as my body sinks down, my feet on the pedals are more intentional, and my eyes are lit up. I can see it as I look in the mirror. I look at my eyes now, not back, please take notice I beg of you. Ignoring my own neediness, it still makes me smile as I drive on. Hopefully, you have a smile on your face by now as we drive on without an end in sight.

Don’t worry, I’m not done with the darkness just yet.

I throw the empty coffee cup on the floor; thankfully, I got my bottle of water still. This drive wasn’t planned, and in my usual ways, I’m unprepared for this road. When the water is finished, there’s nothing left except snacks. Is there a shop on the way? I don’t know. I just keep going, hoping for the best.

The landscape doesn’t change, the road is still mine and mine alone. I drive too fast to be legal, but I’m craving something; maybe risking my life is what will kick me into feeling alive? My itch isn’t scratched, and I speed up a little bit more. I sing along as loud as I can until my lungs hurt. My face is red, and my breathing is painful. I stop yet again and almost fall out of the car this time. I stumble forward until I find a rock to sit on. I hug myself and rock back and forth for a bit until I’ve caught my breath again. An empty feeling takes over. I just am. And I sit with that for a while. Minutes or hours, I don’t know. I sit until I get too cold to sit anymore.

My steps are surprisingly light as I eventually make it back to the car. Before driving off, I adjust my mirrors, clean the windshield, and slowly turn out back on the road. I hum to myself melodies that I’ve forgotten the words too long ago. I feel at peace.

Empty yet peaceful.

Mile by mile is passing as I’ve got plenty of fuel, and the bright sunlight in the sky reflects in my eyes as I take a deeper look. There is something there this time. This time, I don’t feel like I have to convince you. Or myself. I feel lighter, words are coming back to me, and I’m moving my body along with the song on the radio. The beat fills the car, my movements come easily, and I can feel myself smiling. It feels real this time. This time, I sing along effortlessly and in tune.

The road still looks the same as I look ahead. I look back, and it looks the same, yet the old me is no longer in the mirror. I see someone else. Someone determined to move on, someone with a spark in her eyes, freckles on her cheeks, and curls framing her face. This time, I grip the steering wheel, push the pedals to the floor, and breathe out easily. You know that kind of sigh that tells you, it will all be ok?

Yeah, just that kind, surely you can feel it? I look in the mirror and nod to myself. All will be well. We nod and drive on.