I’ve been struggling how to start this, but a conversation with a friend gave me the seed I needed.
He and I were talking about relationships; how love is blind. There is no rationality in it sometimes, that spark you feel towards another person. It defies logic, and it doesn’t matter the timing or circumstance, it just takes hold and you figure it out from there.
That’s the feeling. That’s the only way I can describe my relationship with Edinburgh.
Tomorrow marks an entire year as a resident of this precious city. I honestly can’t believe a year has passed. And as I write this from my bed, scanning the room in awe of all the memories I’ve collected, I can’t help but reflect on how I made it this far and how our love story began.
I’ve mentioned much of this in an older piece of writing — Through the Stones — but I distinctly remember leaving out the details. I didn’t want to rip down the wallpaper that masked the chaos inside my mind. I just wanted to put a fresh coat of paint over all the rust and pretend I was fine.
That mask made me so sad. I loved life, yet she was getting so hard to justify living. Too many punches. Too many heartbreaks. And at one point, I conceptualized living her for other people because I’d run out of reasons to live her for myself. Even worse, I was forgetting why she was worth living.
And then I asked the universe for a sign, to point me where I was supposed to go. I knew I wanted out of where I stood, a quicksand that would swallow me whole.
At the time, I was interested in Scotland. It felt ridiculous though to go and spend money on tickets to somewhere I knew so little about. However, at an indoor mini golf arcade one night, I’d won enough tickets to get a toy at the counter. I saw a myriad of items, but grew curious about the box of green toy soldiers. I asked if the box could be pulled out. Instead, the man grabbed a few of the figurines, placing them one by one in front of me, and in that dimly lit space, the first toy he pulled out was a little Highlander soldier with a kilt and bagpipe. My heart skipped a beat, as if the entire room could feel the jolt radiating inside me.
That was it. That’s all it took to buy a flight out.
In July/Aug 2022, I visited Scotland. First Edinburgh, then Glasgow, but then back to Edinburgh because I didn’t want to leave (for a multitude of reasons). I talk about this trip in my old blog site, Coddiwompling — which so happens I published on August 10th, exactly two years ago. It changed my life, and its trajectory. And it was all because of some little toy.
Fast forward to getting accepted to the University of Edinburgh for film studies, something that I never thought I would get to do in my life. It felt foreign, which probably suits since I completely uprooted my life to a different country. I was desperate to be back here, to give this a real shot.
Since moving here, I have experienced an amalgamation of emotions.
I’ve experienced fear — that I made the wrong choice; that I was never good enough to be a film student; that I was crazy to have followed my gut feeling in spending an ungodly amount of money just to live in a city thousands of miles away from my family and friends; that I’d fall on my face and be at a complete loss.
I’ve experienced courage — to put myself out there, even when my heart got broken; to join a run club when I didn’t even know if I could keep up; to continue visiting a gym when I felt inadequate and scared about my appearance; to change my dissertation piece from a performance piece to a personal piece.
And I’ve experienced love — to feel the unending support of three women at my gym who pick me up when I am down and celebrate me when I get good news; to know I have a new family in my run group that has saved me from days of circling grief without even knowing it; to be in awe almost everyday of how much this city offers to me: nature, the sea, markets, trails, and a glorious castle upon a hill.
This past Wednesday, into the wee hours of Thursday morning, I finally finished my dissertation. It was 3:20am when I began my walk home. I couldn’t believe it was all over. And as I rounded Castle Terrace, I looked up at that glorious castle. She was asleep, except for one window. There was a yellow glow, like a night light. It reminded me, in the middle of that dark trek home, that I would never give up on this dream. This dream of being, of living. That I’d made it an entire year without folding on myself. Still here, still coddiwompling.
I know more days of fear and loss are not just possible, but certain. So are the days that courage must be worn like armor, and love like a badge of honor. But every time I think of those days, I see them here — in Edinburgh. I owe her so much of myself because she brought me back to life. I never want to leave.
Happy Anniversary, Edinburgh. Thank you for reminding me why life is worth living. x Thank you for leaving a light on.
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