The Saints Of Mibba

I always wanted to be a princess. Always. It was a fantasy of mine. I thought the lifestyles these princesses led were so exclusive and amazing. All I knew is that it came with glamour and that was what I wanted. I wanted luxury, glamour, I wanted to be fabulous.

Growing up wasn’t quite the difficulty. My life was being planted for me and I didn’t mind. I didn’t mind that everything was set out for me and that I was being spoiled to the brim. I didn’t look up to anyone and I didn’t even see how rotten this world was turning out to be.

Nothing struck me like that bolt. That collision. That crash was shocking and foreign to me. A mental and emotional crash. A downfall that I wasn’t expecting. The point where everything you looked for and wanted turns its back on you. The point where you realized that everything, this whole entire time, was only being cynical and plotting its vengeance towards you. It was silently killing you and you had no idea whatsoever.

When did the future switch from being a promise to being threat?

Everything I perceived had succeeded. It had been victorious. The whole time I thought I was invincible, I wasn’t; I was vulnerable. It hit hard for years and years and it had no plan of stopping. It was like an invasion of my whole mind, body, and soul. And it started pretty early.
I can still picture myself sitting in class, reading, and it hit me. These fictitious stories were always a reality, even if the spine of the book claimed it not to be. Reading about cancer, death, depression, suicide, murder; it all startled me. I thought villains didn’t exist; I thought they were just there so the superheroes could seem more powerful and grand. I realized that the villain did exist; in many more ways than the superhero did. I rotted inside that day and I still was.

Expressing wasn’t my thing. I was almost- robotic. But I wasn’t cold hearted and I wasn’t narrowed minded. I was insulted and pestered as much as you can imagine it and I never ever said a word. Not to my parents, not to anyone. I had trust in no one. It’s always been that way and I didn’t plan on changing that routine. For life I imagined myself as the girl that no one remembered. That wasn’t the prettiest and that wasn’t the smartest. I was just there because a computer said so.

Another face in the crowd.

I was going to be the victim and the suspect. It was all going to happen at the same time and I didn’t care. As I grew older it grew worse and worse and somehow I knew there was no cure for it. I didn’t want a cure. It was all I believed in. I had no perspective of what I could do. Maybe I was waiting for it. I knew it was coming but my patience was growing thin and I didn’t have the time to watch it slowly develop. But ironically that helped me. I didn’t hate and maybe that was my problem.

When we have nothing to hate, we hate ourselves.

It was true. For these people there was no median between love and hate and I couldn’t understand that. I was the median and I didn’t plan on crossing over to a side. We are all living on one planet but we don’t realize that we all see something differently. I knew I was different by that time. Maybe that was an advantage and maybe not. My exterior didn’t help perceive my interior at all but, then came my teen years.

The life of a teenager is one many people like and try to avoid. It can pleasurable one but it also can be un-enjoyable. When I entered this brand new world, I wasn’t prepared. I was on the verge of depression and I didn’t know it. I just knew that if I brought a satisfying grade home I was all set to do what I pleased. In most cases, I did nothing. I had no friends. I had no life. I was bored. I thought my reasons for being so un-exclusive were many. I was wrong.

I was writing my fairytale and it wasn’t going to have a happily-ever after.

Flash.

Everything changes. That day, the day I realized I wasn’t alone was a complete shock. I found no importance in anything. This place, this community changed everything for me. It was like a tornado had just hit and dropped off a totally new person. This one place was,

Mibba.

The name seemed strange but I didn’t mind. I slowly lingered through the place thinking I was a ghost. It was a place where I actually got a “hello” and a “welcome”. I was safe for the time being and it was all because of this. The day I picked up the pen and paper I realized it helped.

It was so- therapeutic.

It was a remedy of mine and never ever did I imagine sharing it with so many other people. It was a hesitant decision but I never regret it. I never will. It changed me immensely and I thanked God for it. The place was my savior, it was my haven. Never in my mind would I have imagined such a place with people that gave me the confidence to stand and say “Hey! I’m someone too.”

It was home. It was comfortable.

Making friends was never such an easy task and I learned that these people meant the world to me. They meant more than anyone I actually knew. It goes to show how much words and conversations influence a relationship. To this day it remains strong, even if we haven’t conversed for a time. The memories are our foundation. The foundation is strong, the foundation is not weary.

These friends that we have never met are our crowd. They’re the cheerleaders that keep inspiring us to do the things we love and cherish they cheer us on. It was a place where the knob was turned just to where everyone needed it. I appreciated this, more than anything.

This place was like heaven. It was like I died and was given another chance. I thank everyone for it and I can’t wait to lead my way on through life knowing that one thing that most people considered mundane, helped. It was a combo of therapy, love, passion, and faith. I haven’t forgotten.

I will never forget.