They always say the pain you feel today is the strength you feel tomorrow. I didn’t actually understand this until I experienced the piercing of pain and all that it has to offer, without any prior notice. This is where my story began.
A heartbreak could be another cliché to the world, but to me, it was a game changer. I now openheartedly claim out loud that my wedding was called off, just a month before it was due to happen. Recalling the moment, I remember all hell breaking loose, leaving me in shattered pieces. Seemingly like the end of the world, I quit my job and cocooned in my room for two months, allowing myself to feel nothing but despair and heartache. I was a mess.
Realizing that my health was hitting rock bottom and my countenance was gradually turning zombie-pale, I had no option but to drag what was left of me and go back into the world again. It wasn’t the usual me out there, but I had to “fake it till I make it.” Two months later, my brother came to town and decided to take me on a trip, or should I say a journey. He planned us a tour in Sinai, a sort of gateway, that we both fervently longed for. But who knew that this journey was to become the crossroads to a whole new different life for me.
Before going on, I need to mention that I was a devoted selachophobic, which basically means that I feared sharks more than the 24 unanswered missed calls I usually receive from my dad. Why does this matter? Well, because on this very trip, not only did I decide to go into the waters, but I also dared to take the decision to become a kitesurfer.
I decided to face a fear that I’ve had for as long as I can remember. My brain was fried, teasing me with ideas like “You hate water, you’re heartbroken and you’re going to get eaten by a shark. Save your life and run! Not the perfect time to be all heroic, girl.” But my decision was final and irrevocable.
A month later, locked and loaded, I prepared my bag and headed off to Ras Sudr, to start my kitesurfing course. The course is usually about four days long, but from what I experienced it felt like a whole month. I can’t recall how many times the kite ferociously and inhumanely crashed me into the waters, leaving me deceased at the end of the day with four hardcore painkillers in my belly. Strangely, I didn’t mind the pain nor the effort and struggle involved. I figured if I could maneuver something that seemed so challenging and exhausting to me, I could probably get myself out of any deep dark hole.
The crashes never ceased, nor did my determination to fight against anything that tried to knock me down. Even in my dreams, I recited: “If I make it through this, then I’m free.” Deep inside, I felt that taming the kite and controlling the forces of nature, were a pure reflection of myself trying so hard to fight the waves of chaos that kept washing away every effort towards my self-reclamation. I was fighting my way to recovery.
Two months later, I was able to get myself out of the water and as they say “I was walking on water.” Maybe not for too long (yet) but I proudly pulled myself up and I stood on that goddamn board. In that very special week, I opened my closet, took out my wedding dress and traded it with a kite, my very own kite.
