Rhymes with free, not fry.
Bangladesh-born, Sweden-based, I’m a little all over the place. If home is where heart is, it gets more complicated. In an ideal world, though, I’d settle down somewhere in Italy.
It’s not over yet. We’ll see.
Tough ask. I feel like I’m always in transition between the me I was and the me I’m going to be. The answer to that question varied so much the last 10 years, I’ve made peace with change being the only constant.
Labels put us in boxes. Instead of who I am, let me tell you what I do.
I wasn’t embarrassed. I had no reason to be. It didn’t feel like a failure, rather as much a success as it could be — because I did the best I could.
Instead, I was just happy. Finally free. Free from unilaterally honoring the promise to make it work while she was playing pyromania with the rubble of our relationship.
But I was tired of having to explain these changes to others. The third time I tried telling the story to someone, it left me completely exhausted. There was no way to cut it short. …
Sweden, is it just you? Or is this universal?
The one time I forgot to wear a mask, I experienced an unsettling surge in how many people in the streets didn’t bother to brush by me.
Hello! #ItsCoronaTime! What the …?!
Maybe — and I’m just hypothesizing but I have a hunch I’ve got something here — when people see a mask-wearer, their subconscious minds interpret it as “Red alert! Virus in the vicinity! Keep distance!”
So I was curious. And wanted put this to a test. On a day with light pedestrian traffic, I observed how close to me…