Words: Rana Beril Gülcü (she/her)
what I missed the most during the COVID-19 pandemic were never the parties – it was the excitement to show up to them, the train that was missed, and the beauty of the mess
‘Could you guys please turn on your cameras? No? Well, okay then. Today, I want you to imagine a world that operates through screens. A world you can fit into a room. Think of a world where you have to manually unmute yourself to be heard…’
Throughout the COVID-19 pandemic, I lived through an isolation so intense it felt palpable. My life changed irrevocably as I was shut off from the world, as if I were trapped in a very tight jacket. I suffocated at times, not knowing where the zip began or ended. I was 15 and trying to dip my toes into the water of life. I wanted to be set free, but only got a simulation of what could be.
There were only a handful of things I could do while trapped inside the same four walls day and night. I lost sense of time altogether. Days indiscernibly morphed into nights.
I was floating about.
I have strikingly intense memories of watching TV shows, like Skins and Friends, and being hit by the realisation that I was wasting my life away indoors. I was frustrated and forever wistful of the social life that was ripped away from me. It has been 3 years since we tried to transition from the nightmare of the pandemic back to real life, but I’m not so sure we have woken up from it yet.
Did we really unpick some of our lockdown habits in a post-pandemic world? When did we become so afraid to show up – so hesitant to experience? We have become tightly interwoven with tech and increasingly dependent on the tools that once merely enhanced our lockdown lives. We replaced people and connections with screens.
Why do we opt for having virtual events, virtual classes, and virtual game nights? Why do we so often default to arranging a Zoom call for a group project? Maybe because it’s easier to lock ourselves inside the familiar shelter of our homes. It’s easier to stay in our pyjamas where the cameras can’t see. I believe that the ease of navigating life with little interaction prevents us from exploring the world and fully putting ourselves out there.
A simulation of a life we are too isolated to see is fake.
The pandemic redefined relationships, and today, we still cling to our lockdown habits, afraid of leaving our little safe zones. And, more alarmingly, we are afraid of each other.
Don’t get me wrong – I love my alone time as well. But, I do think we’ve let down all the 15-year-olds we once were. 15-year-olds who wanted to suck out the marrow of life after all of this.
When I can finally lay aside what I find convenient or ordinary and step outside to live “properly”, I can clearly see that what I missed the most during the COVID-19 pandemic were never the parties – it was the excitement to show up to them, the train that was missed, and the beauty of the mess. When I stop fearing effort and interaction with the real world, I am grateful to be able to once again interweave myself with the unexpected.
It is a privilege to be able to fumble words in a conversation which you can’t backspace, to live without structured breakout rooms, and to thrive on spontaneity. It is often terrifying to think about, but it is always worth it. I wonder if we will ever feel as comfortable with being more interwoven with each other and the world.
Maybe not.
The world is ever-changing, but the lockdown has truly shown me that human nature is too full of life to be isolated forever. So, to make up for lost time, tonight I plan on getting caught in the rain and laughing embarrassingly loudly with my friends.
You are the last user on the call.
Click to disconnect.
