We're Still Human

Chapter 37: I Dream to Be Free

Heading back to Melbourne with more than just a clear mind and some sanity is something I never expected. Of all the ways I thought this year would go, it was never going to go like this in my head. Having both your sanity and close friend back is such a flex that can't be shitted on even if you tried.

With one week away from our last semester at Riveria, Kendall and I have been writing down our wish-lists for Christmas as well as figuring out where we want to go for University. For me, I want to stay close to home and figure out what I want to do, and this might mean staying behind while everyone else leaves. I've had much time to think about what I want to do with my life after school, and no one really knows about this but me. Kendall has been super supportive, but after the whirlwind of a year I've had so far, I can honestly say that I might need a break.

I close the laptop, which had a music program tab open, as Kendall comes into our room again. I haven't had the chance to move back in with my family, and even though my mom and I are slowly talking more, there's still one more conversation that needs to be had before I can even consider going back. She's been quite receptive so far, and hopefully, with this meeting I'm going to have with her tonight at the Plaza, she'll understand me and I'll hopefully understand her.

Anyways, back to me and my girlfriend.

Kendall takes my medal and wears it, biting the gold. She yelps, before throwing the medal on the bed. "Fake gold."

"We didn't go to the Olympics, Kennie, it was a local tournament." I chuckle as she sits beside me. "2028 next though."

"And I'll be right behind you on that," she says, kissing my cheek. "I hope you know how proud I am of you."

"You made it abundantly clear last night," I joke, before taking her hand. "I don't need you to say it, everything you do is enough to show me that you care."

"No, but I want to say it, Yas," Kennie comments. "I really feel like you've found yourself a little bit more each and everyday, you know. When I met you, you used to hide so much shit from me, I thought I'd never figure you out."

"Well, have you figured me out yet, Kennie?" I smile at her.

She stands up, helping me up as well. "I don't think you can ever really figure someone out, you know. I just like to think that once someone shows you who they are inside, there's a whole universe inside of them to explore." I fight back my tears, and she raises her thumb to my left eye, a tear falling onto her thumb. "And God are you one heck of a universe to explore."

I hold her hand to my face, the tears doing it's thing. She pulls me in for a hug, and as we embrace each other, my mind, once a whirlwind, goes incredibly quiet. This usually only happens when I'm with her, and the thought of even just being separated for uni just...hurts.

But if there's one thing I learnt about myself this year, is that it's okay to choose myself sometimes.

"Kendall," I whisper. "I have to tell you something."

She lets go of me, her eyes welling with concern. "Hey?"

"I'm scared," I admit. "I'm scared of the future and what it holds for me. It's like...I know what I want but with every fleeting second it just gets so hard to choose me and give a middle finger to the rest of the world. Everytime I think of just trying to do something for myself, or even just what I think is best for me, I...my mind goes into autopilot. It stops when...when you hold me." I close my eyes. "I'm scared I'll lose you no matter what I choose."

"Oh Yasmina," she whispers, pulling me into another embrace. "Whatever you decide, I'm here for you. We'll make it work, we have always made it work, okay? I'm not going anywhere, Yasmina. Never." She rubs my back. "Whatever you do, wherever you go, there will always be someone on your side, and that someone will be me, no matter what."

We hug each other, and even with the future being a bit uncertain for me right now, one thing is for sure;

We'll always have each other's back.

***

I play with my medal, looking at it as the evening breeze brushes my face. My mom's supposed to be here any second, and with each second that passes, my heart beats a little faster.

I flinch as a hand rests on my shoulder. Turning around, my mother, donning the shirt that I bought her when I was thirteen and a pair of sweats, stands before me. It's one of the few times I've seen her dressed down in public, and I don't know why she even wanted to dress down this much. I dressed to suit her usual attire; a blue dress, with blue eyeshadow and my hair in a slick back pony, compared to her look. It's not like her, and this terrifies me a little bit.

"You look beautiful," she compliments me. "You have my eyes."

I nod, swallowing hard. "I have your stubbornness, too."

My mom laughs, and then grins at me. "My daughter."

I look at the medal, potentially regretting what I'm about to do. I hand it to her, and she looks at me wide eyed, confused. "Here, it's yours."

She shakes my head. "Yasmina, you earned it."

"I know I did, but...but this is me taking control of my own narrative and life," I say firmly. "For a long time, I felt like I've been doing things to please you, to make you love me for me, and I realized...I don't have to lie or keep up a facade just to make my own mother happy; my mom should love me for me, just as I am." I look at the medal, my hand still reaching out to give her. "And in some ways, I think I really wanted this medal to show you I did it, and I did it because I wanted to, not because you wanted me to. So here's me, doing what I want to do again, and giving this to you as my last act of doing something just to please you." I swallow again. "I'm choosing me, mom, and I'm choosing to be free."

My mom stands there shellshocked, refusing to take the medal. I stand still, the silence between us again, scary. My mother shakes her head before looking away, and then back at me. She takes my hand, and holds the medal as I let go of it. She refuses to let go of my hand, and instead, inches closer to me, holding the medal to my heart.

"There has never been a moment, where I wanted you to feel like you had to destroy yourself just to earn my love." She sniffles. "I should've never tried to turn you into a mini me, and I am sorry for how bad it hurt you, for how it shaped who you are today. You are a beautiful, headstrong girl, and I am sorry that your being has been shaped by my mistakes." She presses the medal against my chest a little harder. "And you're right, you do have a choice in how you want to live, and I should be able to help you get to the best destination possible, but not because I want it to be where I am or where I was at your age. I'm no longer the driver of your life, I am the driving supervisor, here when you need me. You are the driver, and this medal isn't mine...it's yours. It was meant for you."

In an instant, I crumble in front of my mom. My knees buckle underneath me, and I'm on the ground, bawling my eyes out. I place the medal beside me as my mom kneels, hugging me.

"You have no idea how much this means to me," I cry. "You...you have no idea."

"I'm sorry it took me this long to see you for you, Yasmina." My mom hugs me tighter. "And you will never have to earn my love, ever. I love you, just the way you are."

To hear those words from my mother heals an unknown scar that I had in my heart. A scar that is inflicted by those you love; a parental scar. I used to think some scars could never heal, and they'd just carry on until you try to tattoo them over with destructive behaviours in order to heal yourself, but those type of scars need healing that can come from you, and from the person. The person just has to be the push for you to heal, whether good or bad, and for me, she gave me the good push. I can finally heal, and heal well. The only thing is, this won't be done alone; my mom and I have some discovering and healing to do together.

"And the girl, that girl you got is a good one," she whispers. "She's a good egg."

And to hear this, solidifies everything I've just said.