By Nykhil Emanuel-Stanford
Nykhil is a productive procrastinator. Editor by day, inspiring writer and wine connoisseur in her dreams. She'll be documenting her (real) life and travels shortly, stay tuned...
I have a great smile. I think it’s one of my best features. And my laugh, even better. It warms you, it’s inclusive, it “validates the joke”, as someone once told me. If there’s a camera on me I can’t help but show teeth.
They say a picture is worth a thousand words. But are any of them the truth? A photo is just a moment in time: a brief snapshot of a wider reality and the events surrounding it. But problematic because we spend the rest of the time trying to either re-enact or fill that space.
This so-called adult life often feels like a party that everyone rsvp’d to about five years ago, and I’ve only just found my invite. I’ve had to rush around to find an outfit and a gift, and now I’m late! All the good nibbles are gone and the prosecco has started to go warm and flat.
In this haze of confusion I often look through my old photographs. For every detail that the memory triggers, another is lost, and my emotions manifest themselves in the strangest of ways. Past doubts seem irrelevant, and what I was once so sure of is suddenly concerning.
Was I really happy then? Did I do or say the right things? Was he the love of my life? (He definitely wasn’t). Those are just some of the small things I obsess over.
I’ve realised recently that the biggest lie that I’ve told for years was to myself; That I was confident in my choices and living my best life by aiming for the same as everyone else. What I am is a confident performer and that’s a very different thing.
I’m getting closer to myself these days. But she’s changed a lot from the person I thought she was and wanted to be. Life is hard. Pretending to be a fully functioning adult is even harder.
They say that laughter is the best medicine. And the laugh of my thirties is going to be more honest. More bold. More true.