Glitter and Tears

The reason why I don’t blog much these days is that I am writing a book. Haha. No shit. It’s called “Glitter and Tears” and in the future, I’d like to share bits of it on my blog. Before I do so, however, let me introduce this little attempt at a book of mine.

Why “glitter and tears”?

The title not only represents the two poles of the main character’s personality but of life as it is. I often think about how sad it is that the world is black and white. You’re either happy or sad. Healthy or sick. Good or bad. Alive or dead.

But I don’t think the world is black and white. Or should be. It strives to be full of colours, only us – people – turn it either black or white with our one-sided thoughts. For more than a year now, I’ve had this thought in my head. If everybody has a purpose in life – a trace he or she leaves on this planet – what is mine? Usually, our genetic codes, beliefs, thoughts and memories remain embodied in another person – our child. But I don’t believe having children and helping save the population is our only purpose. We should also attempt to make a change. And if I was to contribute to a change – it would be the change of people’s black and white thinking.

I want to do so via this book.

The main character’s life, in fact, is black and white. She suffers from the bipolar affective disorder, she’s bisexual, has both feminine and masculine features, her whole life revolves around extremes. 

Her life is like day and night. During the day, she’s worried about the night, at night, she doesn’t see the day coming. In the night, she’s wallowing in the darkness unable to get up and turn on the light.

People tag her as weird and unpredictable. Being happy and cheerful one time and sad and miserable another time makes her look immature, unpredictable, unstable, pretentious, deceitful, suspicious, fake… And yet, she doesn’t let her bipolarity define her.

In a nutshell, it is a story about a girl who fights stereotypes, judgements and close-mindedness by living a life on the edge. It is a story that is – just like her life – both amusing and fun but also painful and sad. But more than anything, it is a story about finding love. Not only a romantic kind of love but love in the purest sense of the word – love as the fundamental principle of the human race.

I do not know whether I’ll ever finish it. I don’t know whether someone will ever publish it if I do. But if the book ever hits the shelves of bookshops, I think it’s only good it will happen in Slovakia. Because I think that people here need a scapegoat. Someone who would challenge their moral philosophy. Someone who would sacrifice their reputation to open their eyes. And I want this to be Mila, the main character of the book.


To be or not to be yourself

“Togetherness has a price: the loss of individuality.” Edvard Munch

I’ve been in a relationship continuously since I was 17. Not with the same person, of course. In the course of 9 years, I had maybe 7 boyfriends. I was jumping from one relationship to another, was never single for more than a month or two. Relationships were so easy then. Since my average relationship lasted for about 6 months, I can say I was constantly switching habits, people around me, hobbies, languages, lifestyles…

Up until last year. After 9 years I practically forgot how it feels like to be single. To be myself, just like I am. To do as I please, not having to take anyone else into account.

Now, the tables turned. After one and a half years of being single, I can barely remember how it felt like being in a relationship. I guess a lot of things changed since my dating era. The world has changed. I changed. Relationships are not as easy now as they used to be.

People often say that a perk of a single life is that you can find yourself. You can discover your true self. I don’t know now whether I wasn’t entirely myself during my years of being in a relationship. But I get now what people mean when they say that.

Right now, I feel entirely myself. I feel like I don’t have to be a better version of myself just to please someone else. I know what I want and what I don’t. To a fault, so it seems.

You know how people are. You’re a human, too. We always want the thing we don’t have. And when we finally get the thing we wanted, we long for something different. There are days when I feel extremely lonely. Days when I long for a relationship. But you can’t hurry love, right?

Sometimes, it seems to me that people around me are more concerned about me finding a boyfriend than I am. My friends tell me: Go on a date or something. Find someone on Tinder. So I tried but there’s always a problem. We never really clicked with the guy. Either from my side or his. When the latter happens, my friends come up with the most elaborate theories why the guy didn’t like me. “Try less lipstick, lose the baggy clothes, don’t wear black all the time – wear something more cheerful, cut down the amount of wine, fags etc., put on something sexy, skip the turtlenecks, don’t let him know you’re interested, be reserved, don’t laugh that much… And like I said in my previous blog post: Don’t show emotions!” Tired? I am.

All in all: Be what guys want you to be. 

I can’t remember whether I used to change for guys back in my “relationship era”. But I guess I must have, otherwise they wouldn’t pursue me the way they did then. And since all the 7 boyfriends I had were different, I guess I must have adjusted to suit whatever personality they had and lifestyles they led. I lost my individuality. Or maybe up until then, I never had a personality of my own.

This reminds me of one of my favourite quotes:

“They made us believe that each of us is the half of an orange, and that life only makes sense when you find that other half. They did not tell us that we were born as whole, and that no one in our lives deserves to carry on his back such responsibility of completing what is missing in us: we grow through life by ourselves. If we have good company it’s just more pleasant.” John Lennon

I was the half of an orange. At times, I felt like a freshly squeezed half of an orange, turned into an orange squash.

And now that I’m the whole thing, someone’s trying to cut me in half again. I won’t let it happen. This one and a half years taught me that I’d rather walk through my whole life on my own than to let somebody restrict my hardly attained self.

Take me in my black and grey unsexy clothes, with my good and bad moods, my emotions spilling over the banks, grunting laughter, clumsy behaviour. Or not.

This is the package, love it or hate it. I might love or hate yours just the same.