I got asked this question one day, a few moments before I said goodbye to my research group and goodbye to Europe: What would you do for love? what would you sacrifice? I couldn't answer. I knew the answer wasn't what the person wanted to hear. However, all I could think was that I would give up who I thought I was and move anywhere to feel the connection that is love. That is what I did. I packed myself up from London and moved back home to California in two weeks. What I didn't realise was that I moved for the love of myself.
Like most people emotionally attached to science, it almost ruined all my relationships. I had to change friends everytime I changed countries. Romantic relationships, I preferred to have long distance. Books vs men is a Caribbean girl's inner war of the centuries. Maybe it is all the things of the past, and maybe it is all the fear of the future. But I never saw myself outside of science, and thus that was my main relationship.
To be fair, my relationship with science was a great excuse until I realised that it might be drawing me away from my family and ultimately, myself. It is funny how my thesis was based on the intricate details of mending broken hearts after a heart attack, but I didn't notice mine falling apart. I was consumed by finding the right material to buttress the scar in the heart after infarction, finding the right soluble cues to increase regeneration, all the while losing the contents of the heart itself- no, not blood- love for oneself.
The moment I landed at LAX, the moment I saw my brother and the rest of my family is when I felt for the first time, true love. I really enjoy and love my family, but it was the first time I made a decision that was for the love of myself. It was the most calming feeling. I felt stable, balanced, and open to listening to every word, bird, song, everything.
But you know what brought me to this point? Surfing. With every surf trip, I got a piece of me back. It is not expressed in such words but in the observation of the ocean and what it did to me. Then in the advice of the surf instructors and in the random bar nights in small towns in Europe over negronis, beer and maybe a tequila shot. Haha. Who am I kidding, I drink coconut water and ginger beer.
So what have I done for love? I:
1. Cut off all my hair
2. Stopped combing my hair (natty dread)- not 100% true.
3. Travelled alone looking for a surf home
4. Wiped-out until I screamed
5. Surfed until I had no words
6. Moved to California to connect: my family
7. Paid for surf training (#brokesurfer)
8. Deleted personal FB and Instagram (waaay before the hype)
9. Created this blog to take time to contemplate each interaction (a diary isn't the same as a blog)
10. Bought tickets for a surf competition in May 2018 (#wslfounderscup)
11. Bought an Indo-Board
12. Changed my eating. Ok, this naturally happened, and I am still wondering how my body just suddenly decided to be healthy. I swear my villi has a mind of its own. #tummylove
13. Stopped drinking. I can't believe this, the taste of my favourite drink makes me want to throw up. Ginger Beer is my life now.
14. Spent all my savings and more
.
.
.
100. Smiled.
I'm done for, aren't I?
Alright, enough mush!! Time for some fun!
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