There are things that we once loved so deeply that they felt like extensions of who we were then, they were not hobbies, not just things we do, but small, quiet passions that made life feel a little more alive than they it is, and sometimes, without any form of dramatic goodbye, they slowly just fade in thin air.
For me, that particular thing was photography.
Then i used to call myself an amateur photographer with so much pride, it was not because i was so good at it , but because i loved the act of seeing, I really loved noticing how light rested on people faces, how shadows told their own stories, how ordinary moments could look extraordinary if you paused long enugh to frame them, my phone was always with me, random sunsets, cracked pavements, laughing friends, cloudy skies,half finished meals , everything felt worthy of being captured.
Then, somewhere along the line, i just stopped.
This thing wasn't intentional, it didn't come with a decision like , It just happened,life in a way got more heavier,responsibilities showed up, school, bills, expectations , fatigue,growing up happened, and with growing up came this unspoken rule that fun must always come second, that rest must be earned, that passions should wait until you are stable.
So I waited, and days turned into months, months into years, my phone camera stayed unopened, my gallery became mostly screenshots, documents, and random pictures taken out of necessity, not love, i didn’t even notice how far i had drifted until one day i saw an old photo i took and felt something twist in my chest, nostalgia, maybe, or was it grief?i don't really know
Sometimes i just wonder if i will ever even go back to photography.
Yeah, right now, i just don’t have the strength, not that physical sort of, but the emotional kind, the strength to want to be curious again, the strength to really care enough to pause, the strength to want to create without attaching pressure or expectations to it, and i think that is just okay,and i am learning that not everything we pause becomes a permanent goodbye
Maybe it is not gone, maybe it is just sleeping.
Just maybe one day, i will see light hit a wall in a certain way and feel that familiar pull, maybe i will open my phone camera again, not to be impressive, not to be consistent, but simply because it makes me feel like myself again, how I used to feel.
And just maybe if the day never comes, i will still honor the version of me that loved taking pictures sometimes ago, and when that version existed, that joy was pure, it was very real.
Sometimes, growing up isn’t about becoming someone new.
Sometimes, it iss about really remembering who you used to be and then gently deciding whether or not , you are ready to meet them again.
