awakening

I know I'm supposed to be at my study desk, revising through the whole Form 4 syllabus for my first intervensi test of the year but somehow, recent conversations with a good friend sparked very unforgettable thoughts that have been knocking hard from the inner walls of my brain.

Seeing as I now have some time to spare, Im'ma go ahead and rant.

Just the other day, while sitting alone in my room, staring blankly outside the window, I suddenly started trying to recall the many nicknames or words I'd used to describe or be known as. And I realized just how many there were - as I kept changing it according to my mood or the sudden need for change (a new identity, so to speak). All of which represented a certain phase in my teenage life - before today.

 

I suppose this all started during those naive and childish years of primary school - I was probably 11 or 12. At that time, everyone had their own cliques and well, I was no different. As I wanted to fit in, to be apart of a wanted group. They all had their oh-so-cool nicknames, matching files and hairstyles and being different wasn't one of my choices because being different meant being the weird one out. Or so I'd used to think.

And so, just to fit in, meaningless nicknames for myself were born.

The Girl Next Door 

Come to think of it, this was the most toned down nickname I'd choose for myself. As it means...

The phrase "The girl next door" is in reference to the attainable, average, every-day gal. The girl next door is who you went to school with, who you played with, and who you can ask to dinner without a bodyguard coming out of the shadows to take you out. She is the type of girl that anyone has a chance with to date, is good-hearted and pleasant in nature.

Before The Rebel and The Brat, this was what I held onto. Before steeping out into the real, vicious world, I was clueless and uninformative. I was too innocent. I'm not claiming that being innocent isn't good but when I look back and think about it now, I'm glad I've past that phase. Glad to be more matured and have my parents trust me enough to do the right thing.


The Brat 

This began after having watched Bratz The Movie and falling totally in love with it. The way four of them dominated the whole school just by staying true to themselves which lead to others believing in them as well. At that point of time, it was what I felt or wanted. It represented the phase when growing up was a total jerk to me. I just didn't want to grow up, didn't want to give up the freedom of running around the field without getting detention or the time when I'd run out of class to make my great escape. I didn't want to give it all up. I suppose this can also represent the times when I'd wanted everything to go my way. I wanted to call the shots, to make my own decisions, to go out whenever I felt like it. And when I didn't get my way, I'd throw a tantrum. Nonetheless, I obeyed - obeyed only after having turned into a little nightmare first.

The Rebel 

I can't really recall how this began but I sure do know when it did. It was during my first year at high school. After having rekindled old, lost friendships and blossoming new ones, another group was formed. Well, to us, that is. But neither of us had nicknames. So, having been the person whom has broken most of the rules, I'd called myself The Rebel. Falling in love - butterflies-in-tummy, heart-throbbing, mind-boggling kinda love - for the first time too, I suppose was one of the reasons why rebelling seemed so thrilling. And having hormonal teenage boys come hounding after me, appearing in front of me out of no where just for my number. As temptations kept building up, a thrill to go against my parents and grandparents rules and orders were so much more greater. I know only too well that that was one of the most heart-breaking phases for them.

The Rockstar 

This simply has to be the most self-absorbed phase I'd ever claim myself to be. Having been polluted by the song Rockstar by Prima J, I'd decided to act and be like one. I would crank the music up so loud till' the whole row of houses heard the beat and sometimes even complained to my maid about it. When I went out shopping,without a doubt, I'd bring home a new pair of heels, a studded funky necklace or plain rockstar accessories. I even tried to act like one too. Walking with my head high, ignoring all those whom I have no knowledge of and of course, breaking the rules. Relieved, I am, it only lasted for a few months.

And of couse, having a split identity.

Nicole Love Annalyse was the wilder and daring side of me. The one who'd speak what's on her mind and tell it to you upfront. And no, hiding behind closed doors ain't how she rolls. The one who'd stand center stage, under a spotlight without letting stage-fright or nerves get to her. The one who'd set her heart out so far into the ocean but when it gets bruised again, she simply picks herself up and get on with her life. The one who'd never let anyone get close enough to break her heart in the first place. The one who'd know what she wants and do everything in her power to get it. The girl who'd never let her dreams remain as mere dreams but instead, will make it her reality...

Last but not least, there too were the many erratic decisions of nicknames I'd made up but only lasted for a mere week or two. No use revealing it all out here now for I have chucked it all in my past. And that's exactly where it will all stay. Because over these past few months, I've come to terms with the fact that I don't need nicknames and whatnot to describe who I really am. I don't need Astrology updates nudging me on my Facebook page informing me what my lucky number or colour is. I don't need any of those, as long as I know my grounds are solid and uneasily shaken. As I look back on those rough years and type this out now, you have no idea how thankful I am to be who I am now and kiss 'goodbye' that once-so-in-trend phase.

Now, I'm only known as Kristen Alyssa Sylvanmani (Or Krissy, if you please).