Faro, Portugal. Photo by Meral Aydos

Standing against the waves

Eight years ago these days, in my late teenage years, I was in New York. My eyes were hypnotized by the flashing billboards; I was utterly mesmerized by the gravity of the non-sleeping city and its world-famous motto of liberty. The buildings were as high as my expectations and I felt so little against its undeniable dominance on my soul.

Now after eight years, in my late twenties, in Southern Portugal, on the other side of the ocean, I am standing against the waves of the North Atlantic, the waves may be coming from New York, the waves maybe I had a glimpse eight years ago and wished something that only 19-year-old can remember.

Compared to that young princess girl to whom the world was offered by her family, now I am standing as a young woman, far stronger, and maybe not having a luxury for any vulnerability or a cover.

That 19-year-old didn’t know much about life; though she was writing a lot about it. For it is always easier to talk about something you barely know. Now those eight years taught me so many things, and yet I am getting hesitant to write on them.

All I can do now is to surrender; to the waves which have taken from me, and not given back. I reluctantly accept that the waves are bigger than me, and considering that they have been shaken for more than eight years unlike me; they must be wiser than me.



Get the Medium app

A button that says 'Download on the App Store', and if clicked it will lead you to the iOS App store
A button that says 'Get it on, Google Play', and if clicked it will lead you to the Google Play store
Meral Aydos

Meral Aydos

Londoner and Writer. Short Stories for Sundays.