
2018, that was the last time I walked the streets of London.
It is now 2023, and five years have passed. You would think that five years is a long time and many things would have changed in a place. But London still feels the same. The morning rush in the underground subway. Commuters staring into space from station to station. The cool, fresh air. Caffe nero at every corner of the street. It is all the same.
But what, I think, is more amusing is how I feel being back here after so long.
Again, you would think that five years is long enough to change a person. In that five years, I have graduated, left England, started work in Singapore, ended a seven year relationship, gotten used to the scorching heat, and the daily grind of corporate life, fallen in love again, bought a house, planned a wedding, braved covid, and depression, made an enemy out of myself, and learned how to heal, and love again.
Yet, in spite of everything that I have been through, every ounce of my being feels the same as I walk down the streets of London. I still feel like the same college student eager to find out what’s down the next corner. I still feel the lightness of being that I, Melody, have always felt, despite how heavy the world says life ought to be - all is vanity and a striving after wind.
And that is fucking liberating. To find out that your pain and suffering never defined you. That while it seems impossible to escape that dark fate of yours, there is some place in this world that is safe, and happy, and where the air is fresh and easy to breathe.
They say that trauma changes a person forever. That the darkness will always be a part of you. Indeed, it is a part of me, and a part of my story, but to it I say, “you won’t define me.” And I’m starting to believe, once again, that maybe, after all, I am a free and happy person.