Bosnia & Herzegovina

It’s only been a year yet I’ve already forgotten your name. But, it’s also only been a year and the way you made me feel that day still sits heavy on my heart. No, it wasn’t actually how you made me feel that day. It’s more how I hate myself for accepting the way you made me feel that day.

How you got me to believe that your opinion and compliments were more meaningful because you were a stranger. How you got me to think that that day was when I should turn a new leaf and stop caring about my appearances because you, as a stranger, told me my flaws were beautiful when all along my sister and my boyfriend at the time were telling me this every day.

How I offended my sister when I told her how happy I was that you had pointed out that the recently developed pigment-less patch on my face was actually beautiful when she had been trying to convince me of that all along. How I heard the hurt in my boyfriend’s voice when I called and told him that someone other than him had noticed and complimented the patch on my face. How I would yell and lash out at my friends and family for trying to wipe off the makeup and tell me how beautiful and unique the patch made me but instantly lit up when you pointed out how beautiful it was. How, now looking back, you may not even have meant it when you said it but just merely wanted to get into my pants. How your compliments seemed harmless to you but have left an aching, self-loathing feeling in my heart.

Why was I foolish enough to believe you and not my sister or my boyfriend at the time? Why did I care what you, a stranger, a nameless figure who made a brief appearance in my life, thought? We spent 1 day out of my 8,307 days and yet I valued your compliments over my sister’s.

But this letter isn’t to yell at you, stranger. It isn’t to tell you how you’ve hurt me. It isn’t to put the blame on you. This letter is to thank you. To thank you for helping me recognize how important the people in my life are. To thank you for helping me realize that it isn’t a numbers game; I don’t need a lot of them, just really good ones. To thank you for helping me see that the opinion of a stranger while appreciated and heart-stopping in the moment are fleeting while the love and support from the people I treasure have taken time to build and will outlive you and me. To thank you for helping me realize how stupid I was for thinking you cared more about me than the people who have been through the highest of highs and lowest of lows with me. And to thank you for, after a year, being a blunt reminder to stop autopiloting through life and be more intentional about maintaining the relationships in my life.

I’ll admit, I still don’t go out without covering up this patch with makeup. I still spend money on makeup to keep this patch hidden. I still consciously place my hand over this patch near the end of the day when I feel as though the makeup has worn off. But this has nothing to do with you. This is my own personal battle. These are the insecurities and battles I’ll fight for myself. It has nothing to do with you not being a part of my life nor the (obviously) expected end to the compliments the day I left Mostar, Bosnia & Herzegovina. And, at the end of it all, the patch isn’t the point of this letter either.

I was foolish enough to believe you, value your opinion highly, and find my self-esteem in you. I focused on strangers to build up my self-esteem rather than looking to myself, to my support system. I focused on the fleeting happiness I got from your compliments rather than treasuring the lasting support of my family and friends. So while you had the chance to be a bigger part of my life, to be a part of my support system and me of yours, you decided to walk out because I wouldn’t kiss you. You used my flaws to try and win my heart and for a second it worked. But just as quickly as it worked, it faded into nothingness. You were just a mere hiccup in my journey, and that’s how we’ll leave it.

Inspired by Off Assignment’s series Letter to a Stranger.

“And writing is, in the end, that oddest of anomalies: An intimate letter to a stranger.” -Pico Iyer