There lives in this world, a person named Mia. And though she answers to Mia, it’s not the sum of her, but like all humans she knows herself by titles. You see, human’s have this odd compulsion to define themselves by relation to their surroundings. Mother, wife, sister, lover, worker, reader, student, girlfriend…you get the picture. Mia wasn’t the exception, though to be fair, for all human history there hasn’t been one. But that’s a different matter.
So like all people, Mia was happy with her titles, occasionally trading one for another as title holders are so inclined. This happened for some time. Years actually. Then, one day, it stopped being enough. But before you think there was anything special about that day, I’ll tell you: It had been building up for awhile. Life and work had been taking its toll on her for quite sometime, and though she got used to it, much like a sliding set of scales, the imbalance had been accumulating. It just so happened to run out of room on that day. Nothing big, nothing major. Just one small incident added atop a pile with no more room to spare.
But scales are scales for a reason, and something always happens to keep the balance. The solution was obvious to her: Quit. In doing the opposite, you would think it restored balance. See, that’s the tricky thing about scales. They never work out the way you expect outside of the physical. Instead, Mia lost her most important title. The one that the majority of people define themselves by. Cast adrift, trying to find her bearings, Mia tried to live up to the self-regulated title most people adopt after such a calamity. That of Failure. For days she submerged herself in hours of mind-glazing TV, rarely leaving the house or turning the lights on once night descended. This continued for some time. Gradually, Mia came back to life. And realized this was not her. As wholly not her as the previous title had been. So. What now? Well, with a vague conviction and a general direction, Mia has no idea. Which might just be further than most..
Written by Nadia Said