She was there early; I arrived five minutes late.
She had tea, I had hot chocolate.
She had eyebags from crying herself to sleep. I didn’t have eyebags—just a little tired from watching anime.
She wanted to know if studying microbiology for my BSc made it difficult for us to pursue our dreams in media. I told her we have a master’s degree in Media and Communications, we are amazing content creators, and we were Pinterest Creators winners.
She asked me, sacred and trembling, about the bullying and the depression. I told her we now have no problem standing up for ourselves, that the girls who used to bully us are now in our likes and DMs—getting ignored.
She asked if the religious community we grew up in still controls our lives. I said no. We got our first-ever piercing at 18, and since then, we’ve gone bald and played with all sorts of beauty activities that inspire us.
She asked if we have control over anything in our life—if even what we wear is truly what we want to wear. I told her we are in control now. I can wake up one day and wear a mini skirt and the next, a pair of trousers.
She said loneliness hurts and that she’s tired of looking for love and acceptance in other people. I told her we no longer do that. We are our home, and we overfeed ourselves with love. Home is safe, warm, and filled with love.
She asked if she’s free. I said we are free as a bird—well, under capitalism—but this is the freest we will ever be.
She asked if we kept the promise to live for ourselves, even if it’s different from what everyone thinks life should be about.
I said yes. We still don’t want children. We are doing so well in our career. And we are living in a country where we can love and live freely.
She cries—she can’t believe it. I told her she was brave for not ending it all.
After the tears, after all the pain, all the suffering, all the humiliation she endured—
I told her she didn’t deserve that, but she has made herself a warrior from all the lives we have lived.
She said being a teenager has been so painful, and I said we hope to make that period the most painful of our lives.
We have been chasing joy. We tried therapy—it did help.
I told her she’s the bravest girl I’ve ever known. She’s also the most stubborn. Everything we have now is because she never gave up on a life that was possible, even when the threads did not connect.
We have also helped girls like us, and we will continue to.
She hugs me, weeping. I can hear the crack in her voice, from the depths of her heart.
She says, “Funke, I’m so proud of us.”
I say, “Little Funke, you made us.”
I hug her. I dry her tears. She sleeps in my arms.
I take her home. She’s sleeping peacefully.
Tomorrow, I hope she wakes up without eyebags—because there’s no reason to cry herself to sleep anymore.
We are happy. We know what happiness feels like. We are winning.
We have friends that love us. A family that loves us.
And that is enough.