Last year I took a one way flight to Bali. After that my life changed. These days I’m back in SF, where people routinely tell me — unprompted, perplexed even — that I seem truly, genuinely happy. I get that compliment — and I do consider it a compliment — almost every day now. It’s the only compliment that matters to me anymore.
Last week I found myself telling A a little secret that I’ve been dying to tell someone, but I couldn’t pinpoint an audience (the duck has gone off to India and in her absence I don’t know who to share my meandering musings with): I think I found nirvana. I’m not the person I was a year ago. I remember her: her fears, hopes, anxieties, values, questions that would keep her up at night, and… none of those bother me anymore. I feel nothing but love for her, I wish her healing, and I’m glad she found her way to a better place.
So what does nirvana feel like? I wake up happy every morning. I ask Alexa to play morning jazz, light a scented candle and bask in the knowledge that this was all I needed.. not more, but less. Less “shoulds” running my psyche and telling me what I should aim for, who I should date, how much I should earn, what I should wear. Less comparison, as I really don’t know anyone else’s life like I know my own.
When things don’t go the way I hoped — like last week I went on a third date, and I was excited, I even bought a lipstick titled “third date,” but the date was disappointing on both sides — I’m… fine. Not a defended “oh I never cared about him anyway” kind of fine, but… truly fine, good even. I’ll acknowledge the disappointment but it won’t wreck me; I’m back to baseline in a couple hours. Dating is actually really enjoyable for me in nirvana, as I’m as excited about the process as the result. Mostly I’m happy I get excuses to wear nice outfits, go to new places and meet new people, wherever it leads.
I’m drawn to A because since college, he’s known me as the Pakistani Atheist, and told me how impressive he finds that. One time he drunkenly told me that he had it bad for Pakistani Atheists. I laughed him off as a flirt — which may be warranted — but I don’t think he knows how seen and appreciated that makes me feel. My favorite quality of mine has always been that I have a mind of my own, that I don’t fall for groupthink for long, but I’ve been in one too many worlds where I’ve had to censor myself.
When I first got to Silicon Valley from Pakistan, I basked in the beauty and freedom of it all. Here was a campus where I could ask any question, meet people from around the world, take a class about almost any subject on earth (there is now a class on Taylor Swift!) and wear whatever I wanted or didn’t want on any given day. Coming from my corner in Pakistan, that was freedom-seeking Laila’s dream. But over the years I’ve learned that Silicon Valley too has it’s groupthink.
After all that, to be in the company of someone who values my independent, beautiful mind — it’s wonderful.
I lost many relationships over the last year and I’m ok with that; the better ones grew stronger. I was in a few dynamics that didn’t feel great for me but on some level I believed I “should” (there’s that word again) make them work for various reasons; duty, prestige, loyalty, whatever. I don’t believe that anymore.
On the surface, my life was a lot shinier a year ago. I was “doing” something much more prestigious: running a company that had raised millions of dollars. Now when people ask me what I do, I don’t even know what to tell them: I.. urr… the answer is longer, more complex, harder to grasp in the five seconds of attention on offer. But it’s just as well, as it got me nirvana.
This was the best bed time read ever! WOW, so proud of this Nirvana finder Wise beyond her years