I once believed that graduating from school was the first real change in my life—or perhaps it was finishing college. I never truly paused to reflect on what shaped my journey from what it was to what it is today. For a while, I thought leaving my hometown for further studies marked the beginning of change. Later, I felt that moving far from my parents for work would be the defining shift. And while these moments were significant—just as they are for many—they weren’t my first. As I am living alone right now, and focusing on my career along with trying to manage my life with all the household work and marketing, I finally got to know what changed my life.

I was 5 when I came across my first change. My first fear was introduced to me when I was just learning to grace myself as a girl. I still remember the day like a video tape, when I was returning from my dance class. My friend and I were walking and jumping ahead of our mothers who were walking slowly, chit-chatting and laughing. I was always taught to be nice to everyone, whether it’s a child, an old man, or even if it’s an animal. I used to smile at every person, even if it was a stranger passing by. It was fine for so many days, aunties calling me cute, or older sisters waving at me, or people just smiling back until someone just came by and smudged that smile off my face.

Going back to the story, while returning from my dance class, I randomly smiled at an old to older man. He smiled back at me. Then he walked towards me, grabbed my face, and forced his lips on mine, trying his best to invade my mouth with his stinky tongue. I tasted him, he tasted like homoeopathy medicine, and he smelled like that too. 

Now strangers are my new fear. I hated to look at them, I hated to even smile at them. What if they do it again? What if this time my mom doesn’t come to my rescue? What if this time that person doesn’t stop there when no one comes to save me? 

No matter how many times I have learned self-defense, no matter how many times I think, this time I will cut his throat off with my teeth. What if my body doesn’t respond like I want to because of shock?

The outcome of the story: 

1. I am maintaining my anger issues so that I don’t go in shock when it happens to me again.
2. I am scared of drunk people, especially a stranger, an older man.
3. While walking alone, my mind only plays a record of how can I kill someone.
4. I walk with my headphones on, at full volume so my adrenaline stays up
5. I get jump scares when someone touches me suddenly.
6. Today I am mentally and physically strong.

This story is fictional, but maybe non-fictional for many of us.

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