A Lovely Crappy Day!

"La Libre Esthétique salon annuel: Musée Moderne, de 10 a 5 heures, ouverture: 24 Fevrier, prix d'entrée: 1 Franc, le Dimanche 50 centimes." Poster for art exhibition of the Brussels-based artistic movement at La Libre Esthétique.
This image is available from the United States Library of Congress’s Prints and Photographs division under the digital ID cph.3b52530

So I took the famous French exam on Friday to apply for permanent residence in Quebec… Boy was that a failure… It feels great to finally be able to let that out… My French is actually not bad. Definitely good enough to talk about lame situations but when my performance is being scrutinized, I tend to get nervous and start speaking gibberish… No matter what language I am using at that moment… And that is exactly what happened during the exam. The less I care about the results of an interview, the better I perform… In other words, I don’t perform well under pressure… Unless it is a task involving writing…

And, completely acting in contrast with my personality, I told everyone it went OK, instead of freaking out and expecting everyone to relieve me with soothing words… Is this what finally growing feels like? Meh…

I didn’t tell my friends about how poorly the speaking component went because almost all of them have to take the same exam and they are still at preliminary stages of learning the language and are immensely freaked out about it… So telling them that I fucked up would not be much of a help… Plus, they sort of consider me to be one of those straight A types who always walk out of the exam room with despair of certain failure. They might be right, but it is so hard not to shriek when my mind is consuming the few neurons I possess to eat me up alive…

Neither did I mention the anguish I was swimming in to my husband because he rarely has any story in store to make the anxiety go away… Except for the jokes, which did help right after the exam when we met up… Though he had no idea his funniness was being exploited for selfish self appeasement ends.

And, I am finally getting to the point where I do not run to my mummy’s arms for comfort… I am in a way preparing myself for the day she might die and I will have to deal with my problems on my own… Although she is perfectly healthy… Sort of like encouraging yourself to push harder by telling yourself giving birth is much more painful when you are constipated… Surely, you know what I mean…

Yes, this is exactly where I want to put an end to today’s post… I felt like crap for Quebec’s sake… And here is a bunch of crap in the form of a blog entry… Have a lovely Sunday crap…

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So, where was I? And where am I now?

Female Trapeze Artists
Female acrobats on trapezes at circus. Hand-colored lithograph by the Copyright by the Calvert Litho. Co., Detroit, Michigan, ca. 1890.
From the Library of Congress
[PD] This picture is in the public domain.

I was away on vacation for a few weeks, back home in Turkey, visiting, hugging and talking to friends and family, remembering what it feels like to be loved…

No, I take that back. I do feel loved now, here in Montreal, so far away from Anatolia, but being back there gave me space to err… Spending evenings with parents helped me remember the feeling of having a safety net underneath my acrobatic jumps between jobs and housing quests. It reminded me they would be there for me no matter what I did, and they would not let me fall even when I missed a swing…

Seeing my friends, observing the sincere happiness in their faces to see me, knowing that they accept me with every attractive and weird aspect of my personality gave me confidence… They embraced me and invited me to days where social anxiety was a thing that only belonged to an outside world among strangers… It gave me confidence to make silly jokes and voice experimental ideas that had not yet fully formed but needed to be pulled and tugged at to find its final shape and place in my head.

Being back home gave me confidence to reassert who I really am, without having to censure thoughts or actions in accordance with who I am frequenting.

And now, after almost two years in Montreal and more than a year at a steady job, I feel a similar fort of friends building up, though still in its preliminary stages of construction in certain ways… I feel more freedom in my moves and fewer filters before words formulated in my head become words in others’ ears. I feel greater courage in taking bold steps as I slowly bond with a small but strong group of allies.

Yet, one thing that cannot be subsidized is the safety net family offers. I have to accept this as the cost of immigrating away but it does not change the fact that I miss crowded family gatherings. Although we do not celebrate Easter holiday in Turkey, I wish I could be at my grandparents’ dinner table, waiting with cousins for our share of the chicken…

Happy Easter! Enjoy all the love you find!