Chinese New Year has never been a big thing with me, but this year, it just happened to fall at a time when I had decided to make many changes in my life, the most drastic being the decision to break away from a 3 year long relationship, and the slew of quasi-serious relationships in the years before that. The break-up was long, painful and bitter.
Starting anew meant venturing into the dark depths of single-dom, something that never lasted very long with me, because I never had the guts to face the reality of being on my own. It meant moving out of my home of three years, saying good-bye to a lot of the familiarity and routine that governed my life for so long.
I also took the opportunity to mend ties with my father and his family; I had not seen them in nearly three years. I apologized to those I hurt, made a point to spend time with family and friends. Another thing I did was to take a holiday, alone.
If anything, no one was more surprised than I at the decision to go to Pangkor Laut on my own. Far from a singles haven, the resort is thick with honeymooning couples and old lovebirds rekindling their flame.
My last memory of being single seems non-existent, for 9 years straight I have either been in a relationship or in transition from one to another, I didn’t know how to be alone. Yet after the first 3 days of CNY festivities, I made the spur-of-the-moment decision to go alone and not waste what was left of my week’s holiday.
First day: Finding Me
When I arrive on the island, it’s just past lunchtime. The sun gleams over the water, the towering rainforest rustles in the cool breeze. I waste no time hitting the beach. The first day is about adaptation, getting used to the island, getting used to the idea that it was just me.
I am quiet, reflective. I ponder the past, the present, the future. When I step gingerly into the warmth of the sea, I find that a blanket of calm starts to wash over me. The ocean buoys me, I float on my back.
It feels as though all the weight from my past has melted from my shoulders. In the cloudless blue sky, three eagles make lazy swooping circles, I wonder if they have a meaning, after all my Chinese name does mean Beautiful Eagle. I would continue to see those eagles every day of my stay.
Second Day: Unleashing the Spirit
I wake up feeling lighter, more energized and after a light breakfast, I make my way to Emerald Bay again. I take baby steps into the crystalline waters, the deeper I go, the more my courage grows, I feel as though every step I take helps me shed more emotional weight. I’m farther out then anyone else, the ocean floor is two and a half times the length of my body below, but I don’t care.
Pretty soon I am frolicking with abandon in the warm azure waters, I dip and dive, going deeper and deeper, seeking the coolness closer to the seabed. The ocean has unleashed my spirit; I swim unrestraint, the spirit of a young woman set free.
I become a child again, without a care in the world. I pretend I am a mermaid, concoct my own underwater dances, twirling, somersaulting. I do handstands and splits, twisting, weaving my body this way and that. I am completely in my own world, absolutely oblivious to anyone observing my aquatic acrobatics.
Later, I dry of by walking the shoreline. I relish the feel of the powder-fine sand between my toes. I am grinning like an idiot, at all the beauty that surrounds me, the skies, the trees, the hornbill that settles on the branch mere meters away from me, the delicate pink shells that line the shore. The other guests may think I am a loony, but I am happy, free.
Later, I dry of by walking the shoreline. I relish the feel of the powder-fine sand between my toes. I am grinning like an idiot, at all the beauty that surrounds me, the skies, the trees, the hornbill that settles on the branch mere meters away from me, the delicate pink shells that line the shore. The other guests may think I am a loony, but I am happy, free.
For once the couples do not bother me. I’m no longer struck by loneliness or longing when I see a pair strolling hand-in-hand or sharing a deep kiss, instead I smile at their display of affection. I am completely at peace with me, content in my own company.
Third Day: Tranquility
Third Day: Tranquility
When I rise on the third day, I’m relaxed, my mind is calm and I don’t have to look into a mirror to know that I am glowing. My luck has turned.
This morning, I go for a Balinese massage at the Spa. I don’t really need it, but I go anyway. My regular masseur in Penang expressed surprise during my last visit, for the first time, the kinks had disappeared from my body.
I swim long lazy laps in the infinity pool, then have huge salad at the health bar. I have no problems dining alone, after all, I have a stack of 5 books to keep me company. Next I head to the beach again. Today, I swim in short spurts, only to cool down after basking in the sun. The day is cloudy, the breeze cool.
I doze of and on, then throw myself into a hammock and plug my headphones in. I sing.
Facing the hill is not a problem anymore. Since I got here, I made it a point to walk up the great big hill at sunset each day, arriving back at the villa covered with a salty sheen of sweat, calves quivering from exertion.
Each day after dinner, I take long walks. As I walk, I tilt my head upwards, taking in the glittering pinpoints of starlight that weave a sparkling tapestry across the inky black velvet of the night sky.
I stroll the many walkways set above the sea, peer at the schools of fry swimming below. I wander through the sweet scented herb gardens and explore the deserted male bathhouse at the spa. If and when fancy takes me, I break out into song or jaunty dance steps.
Its back-to-the-basics: the supreme beauty of Mother Nature’s offerings, and me. This is my journey to self-rediscovery. After years of sacrifices and compromises, of wanting and depending, I’m learning that it all boils down to me. And that it’s okay to think about just me for once. Here, I’ve reached deep down and found my core. I’ve sloughed away the layers of old, made space for new beginnings.
When I’m about to leave on my last day, I go down to the shore and send a flying kiss up to the eagles. A short holiday yes, but so much gained from it. The ferry pulls away from the quay, the sun is beating down on the island, a sparkling gem in the sea.
For the first time, I’ve found that there’s nothing to fear. I embrace the fact that its just me, and not only do I know that I can survive on my own, but I am empowered by the fact that I am truly content, fulfilled with just me, myself and I.
