Rich little me! A story about the blessed “Me”

Note: This blog is a continuation from The Poor Little me! A story about the Victim Me!. As the author, I highly recommend you to read it before reading this, or else this blog post would not make sense at all.. Thank you. 🙂

Introduction

So, you may have read in my previous blog about the poor little me. This blog post doesn’t invalidate the “Victim”, but attempts to tell my “Victim self” that there were positive sides to my life as well.

Did those actually happen to me?

Of course they did!

Did they cause a lot of pain to me?

Of course they did!

Did they shape my beliefs around how i act today?

Of course they did!

But, I left out all the positive bits. I either am stepping out of a depression or still in it hanging by a thread of “positivity”. What I can clearly observe from this slight positivie space is that previously, the negative or the “victim” stories are the only bits i heard. And the world around me didn’t understand me.

But while listening to Tina Turner’s Sarvesham Svastir Bhavatu, getting stoned in the bathroom, it occurred to me, the good bits i also had, and how I was only looking at the negative bits lately.

My Best Friends

Did i tell you i met my best friend online. We first met on his 21st birthday or just before it. I was still 20 years old at the time. The day we first met, I was waiting for him in a cafe. Once I saw him, I got so excited and spilt the ice coffee I had ordered across the table and all over me! Which is upto date a joke between us. (No! He didn’t judge me as I would have thought by this incident… He found it funny… I guess it was kind of a compliment for him… LOL!)

This best friend, I envied for scoring all the boys with his good looks which always left me empty-handed, was also the biggest gift i had throughout my time in Sri Lanka. My mother’s acceptance of him into our house and to allowing him to spend the nights tells me that she in fact blessed me all along, if I wished to settle with someone “suitable”. I listened to hear words, instead of seeing her actions. She treated my best friend really well. (she until recently i declared not, had thought we had sex (facepalm). But, we were only friends, nothing ever happened between us.). He was there with me through a lot of my good, bad, and ugly times.

Along with him, I also met my other best friend who was Bisexual online. From whom I learnt the most. From whom I learnt how to treat the poor. From whom I learnt how to treat the staff at hotels, restaurants, or anyone who is serving you. I wasn’t the talkative one in the group, but I always observed him and learnt. He was kind to the less fortunate. Always was kind to the less fortunate or someone who was serving us.

It is a fact that I never told them, that I was getting hurt by them scoring all the boys. I never told my best friends about my emotions. Although initially I shared my pain and some of my drama that happened to me without them, I started hiding from them all the bashing and stealing that started happening to me, because they had critiqued me when I had tried to tell them earlier. Eventhough they scolded me, they would have helped me. They would have done something.

I was honest about everything, but not my true emotions. I robbed them of the opportunity of being there for me and helping me.

But, I didn’t see it then. I only see it now..

The Gift from a Date

I also remember, I had a date with an 18 year old. Barely legal. LOL!! Seriously, I demanded to see his ID when I met him coz he looke a bitg too young. And as I suspecgted he had just turned 18. I would have been about 24 or so.

He was Tamil, from Kotahena, Sri Lanka. We had a nice time. I picked him up in my car, probably had something to eat. We went for a walk in Galle Face, Sri Lanka, and we kissed. He also gifted me a box of chocolates. I was so happy about this box of chocolates, that after I dropped him, while driving, I tried to reach the box of chocolates and I met with an accident!!

I should remember this as well, every time I have a bad mood thinking about all those who robbed from me. This was a good memory I had.

Threesome

I also had my first threesome in Sri Lanka. I had met two guys who I had named “Devala 1” and “Devala 2” when refering to my best friends. (Devala means a hindu temple. I picked them up both near Hindu Temples, during two different religious festivals…. LOL.. OMG!! Now I must sound like Satan himself, with “Desire for flesh” as my signature sin!!).

I met them seperately, but they knew each other, so they came over once for a three way. The funny story was, in front of each other, I was the “inferior girl”. But the cutie I kept on meeting afterwards, waited till his friend took a break to go to toilet or smoke to pull me to him and kiss me like he had never tasted anything sweeter. Later when i met him, he spoke to me about his passions, etc. But unfortunately, it never turned into a relationship. He had other plans. But I really liked him.

I forgot about them in my previous blog post and also while in my depression. I still have a thing for Devala 2 actually. LOL (I don’t know his name anymore though… OMG.. What a bitch I am!!). These are also fond memories of mine. I didn’t only have rape, bashing, and abuse.

Other Friends

I also had a friend who I met online when he was 15 and I was 19/20. We spoke on the phone after meeting online. Years later, we got in touch. By that stage, he had moved out of home and was working in Colombo. Coincidentally, he was working in the building right next to where I worked. He was also a gift I received. He was a good friend, and he treated me really well when I went to Sri Lanka in 2017.

I also had a group of friends who accepted me as gay and we would hang out. Two girls out of the gang, always invited me for “girls only gossp nights”. They too entrusted me with their deepest darkest emotional pain. But, what did I do. I never shared all of these things that has happened to me with them. I was so damn honest, but I never shared with them my emotional pain, and my emotional trauma. I robbed them as well of opportunity to help their best friend.

I also had a friend who introduced me to a Singing, and I joined a singing group. We sang Christmas carols for 2 years in a hotel, and also did 2 charity shows where I sang solos. We would hangout quite a bit. But, once again, not a lot of my pain was shared with her wither.

Was I independant?

I thought I was doing my friends and family a favour by not telling them about any of the abuse that happened to me. I was too ashamed to tell them i was becoming quite the slut during the hunt of a boyfriend. So I also hid the emotional pain, abuse, bashing, robbing, and rape that happened along the way. But, now I am sharing these with them, and It might hurt them a lot to know, that they could not help me. But, I never told them. I robbed them from helping me.

They may have not helped me, they may have.

But the truth remains, that I never tried.

I had many more good “Friend stories” and good “Romance stories”. But, to proove a point, as you can see, during the same time of me being abused, raped, bashed, and robbed from.. .the first 10 years sine coming out… I had a good life too.

If I choose to only remember those, and somehow overcome the pain of the negative ones, I will look at myself like a Prince or even better, Princess. I will see I am worthy of recieving.

But, it isn’t that easy…. is it? I haven’t learnt how to only keep the good memories close, and disregard the bad ones.

– Nim –