On 9/11 I decided I would have become a journalist. I decided that my voice, my words, and my writings would have served a purpose when I would have grown up.
In 2002 I casually turned on the TV in the evening, and found out that there was a character in an American series that was as dorky and weird, and as much of a literature-freak as I was: Rory Gilmore.
Since that day in mid-2002, every evening, Monday to Friday, I tuned the television in my parents’ room and watched “Gilmore Girls”.
Excluding those few moments when my mother decided to come in the room and ruin my special moment by sitting next to me while commenting on how she would have loved for us two to have had the same kind of mother-daughter relationship, I truly enjoyed watching to that show.
Years went by, and so did the show. I changed, and the characters changed too. Rory’s journalism dream became reality, and maybe that was also some sort of encouragement I had to pursue my own journalistic career.
However, as years went by, I experienced new feelings, new interests, I met new people, I had my first serious relationship, and suddenly, in late 2007, I stopped following the same routine, and spent my evening chatting or messaging with my friends or boyfriends of the time.
When everything ended, when the craziness of my teen years calmed down a bit, when I finally broke up with my abusive boyfriend, I realised that I had lost more than some “Gilmore Girls” episodes: I had lost focus and I had lost part of who I was.
Although I did find a way to return “myself”, I never wanted to watch the episodes of “Gilmore Girls” I missed in those years. At first it seemed too painful, then I felt ashamed, and later I thought I completely lost interest.
Last Friday I came back home, my hair a mess from the wind and the constant curtain of fog that wrapped Rotterdam for the entire day, a vegetable soup to keep me company, and some sort of nostalgic feeling I could not precisely name.
On such a days I have a few options on what to do:
- Lord Of The Rings marathon – hardcore, all 3 extended versions over 2 days
- The Holiday + Love Actually + ice-cream
- Two-day inverted Harry Potter marathon
But this time, none of the options mentioned above sounded appropriate.
Moreover, it will be my birthday soon, and as usual, I just wish I could just skip that day. My birthdays have always sucked: so close to Christmas, people are either busy or on holiday, the only conversations one can have are about presents, families, and New Year’s resolutions, and the focus in never on me. I guess that’s the price to pay for being a late-December kid, and I don’t mind. I just don’t like big birthday celebrations.
A tiny voice that remained silent inside of me for years and years murmured “watch the seventh season of Gilmore Girls, the one you never wanted to watch”. So I did it.
I wish I had done it before moving away from home, because a scene like this would have made me cry even more than I did today:
“You’ve given me everything I need”.
I believe that sometimes people just need separation. From family, from friends, from their job.
Sometimes people reach that point when they could not possibly learn anything new by staying in the same place or around the same people. Hence, the need to move on or away.
For as crazy as my marathon habits may sound, I can ensure you, they’re damn therapeutic!