"Why you coming back to Trinidad?"

touched down in the 868!

"What you wanna come here for?"

"Why you want to move back to Trinidad?"

"Trinidad have nothing for you."

"Girl, find yourself an American man so you could get citizenship and stay there."

The people want to know why on earth I would come back to Trinidad and give up on living in the U.S., the land of opportunity
and all that jazz. Well, besides the fact that I have to move back home for contractual reasons (iykyk), more importantly, I want to move back. 

I've spent seven long, fun, transformative, life-changing but arduous years in the US of A and now it's time for a new phase of life. Leggo.

The uncharted territory of my 20s

Hint it’s uncomfortable and involves a lot of unlearning the ways of functioning that I’d built up throughout my life. Been broken down now I’m building back up! 

me, attempting to fly a drone

Where do I begin? Maybe with how introspectively uncomfortable I am these days. I’m no longer satisfied with my own status quo of functioning because I’m seeing a better way, but the better way is far off in the horizon. And I’m starting to make a dent towards the better way but it’s hard. It’s like wading full-body through a sticky mess and you keep going forward because you know you get to the other side eventually.

Coping and mourning in unprecedented times

Here’s to mourning the things we lost, realizing it’s okay to slump, and knowing we don’t have to go it alone. Plus, yay therapy!

work in the age of corona

Not gonna lie and pretend that I’m thriving during this time because I’m not. It’s difficult. I saw a social media post that read “Damn…I picked a bad year to get my life together” and I felt that. Because I started therapy at the end of last year and was finally learning to address my anxieties. I was finally learning how to push through discomfort and stay present and in tune to my body even when my mind sends me into a tailspin. I was learning how to be kind to myself and parent myself and BAM. Covid-19 comes and sends me spinning. So yeah, I'm upset.

Struggling to adjust to a new home

Since when is it a daunting task to leave my room or make a sandwich? What is going on?

New church in my new town. Moving can be exciting, but also a little scary.

Basic life update/recap: I graduated in June, went home, survived a full-time internship (all by the grace of God) and now I’m back in the bay for my master’s degree (who sent me?!). I’m no longer on campus, but an 18-ish minute bike ride away and living in a legit house - not a dorm with a dining hall and RAs and more people than you can befriend in a year, but a house.

On Adult Friendships

Moving on from high school and being at university has me thinking a lot about adult friendships. My friendships no longer fit into a mold, and that’s both wonderful and scary. 

With friends at Pigeon Point, Tobago

Last week, I took a #GirlsTrip to Tobago with 4 friends from secondary school. It was a much-needed, long-awaited trip, but in the days leading up I was more nervous and agitated than excited. I hadn’t seen these girls in over 6 months, including my long time bestie from high school whom I’ve officially known for just over 10 years. Our relationships hadn’t been the same since we'd graduated, and it’s been interesting navigating these changes. Like everything else in high school, friendships were molded by the structure and routine of school. We had classes together, ate lunch together, studied together and went out on weekends or during school breaks. There was always a time and a place for friendship, and leaving school suddenly left me in a place where I had to re-evaluate the meaning of friendship, and the time and effort that they take. My friendships no longer fit into a mold, which is both wonderful and scary, and worth thinking about.

The Great Unsettling of Sophomore Year

    My second year at Stanford is in full swing, and I’m feeling more unsettled than ever. In fact, I’m outright struggling to feel at peace here.

It comes as a shock to me more than anything, because I thought that surely, after weathering the ups and downs of freshman year, I’d be well-adjusted and ready to tackle sophomore year like a boss, without a hitch. I’d hit the ground running and stay running for the entire year because I had so much energy and excitement building up in me after three months of rejuvenation and spirit-restoration back in sweet T&T.

Wrong.

So, so wrong.

Nothing is as picture-perfect as it seems

Torn between my new college and my old home

Between Trinidad and Stanford

A glimpse of the scenic coast off Eastern Trinidad.
Beware, though! Rip currents and rough seas
make these waters unswimmable

Returning home after my first quarter, I felt like my heartfelt wish had finally been granted, except it didn’t feel like the euphoria I expected. Up to a few weeks ago, if anyone had asked me if I was looking forward to returning home, I would enthusiastically respond, “Oh yes. I’ve been looking forward to going home since week five!”

Where’s home? Home is Trinidad and Tobago, my beautiful, Caribbean, twin-island republic – land of sea, sun and smiles.

Home…that magical place where family, friends, and fun times awaited me. I closed my eyes and dreamt of familiar faces and places, but when I opened them again, I was back in California, faced with schoolwork and socializing, and keeping up with life in the fast lane at Stanford.

A Note on Note-Taking

It’s unbelievable how very small your world is and how you don’t actually realise until it slaps you in the face. And when your world is small - as mine was, as all of our worlds inevitably are - then your thinking aligns itself within the confines of your world, and your perspectives are - sad to say - narrow. It’s not like we can help it. No one can know everything there is to know about the world, but what I’ve realised is the key factor to fulfillment and learning is to have an open mind and attitude to change and learning.

The world is so big, and we are ultimately so small

How College taught me how to Read (again)

So much reading, so little time

I didn’t expect to learn how to read when I came to Stanford, but you can bet that’s one of the first lessons I learnt. There I sat in the lounge at 1AM (or was it 2AM) with about 20 pages to read for one history class, and 4 chapters of a thick book for another. I popped my headphones in, got comfy, and began the journey.

Sometime during my in-depth reading, I realised that half the details I sat there painstakingly internalising weren’t even necessary. The general theme of my class was History of the Middle Ages, the “Fall” of Rome, Christianity etc, so why did I have to know the details of King Clovis’ love for gore? Sure, it helped me understand the culture and atmosphere of that time, but did I need to know what he might have been wearing down to the colour of his last button? Naw. What was important was the big picture.