Zara Hernadez’s exciting travels to Seoul and Japan have allowed her to redefine her own perception of Sylvia Plath’s ever-looming fig tree analogy.
I am known to be extremely indecisive. I can never decide what to eat, what to wear, or what to do with my day-to-day life. Heck, I couldn’t even decide on a title for this article. The only times I am ever capable of making concrete decisions are 1. When I have a holiday booked and 2. Planning important events for the future way too far in advance (I have my entire wedding carefully planned on Pinterest). Basically, I am the epitome of Sylvia Plath’s fig tree poem. So, I embraced the little parts of decisiveness I possess and decided to impulsively book a solo trip to Korea and Japan. It was a great idea – the thought of travelling alone as a 21-year-old woman was terrifying but intriguing. I needed a break from my reality. I needed clarity. Somehow, I believed that if I could make two weeks alone abroad then I would be well-equipped for life after uni. It was a way to prove to myself that I was empowered enough to do anything in my lifetime.
And it really did. But, travelling alone left me with nothing but my own thoughts. No one to keep me preoccupied from my mind. Japan was always going to be fine – my family was there and I had already been six months prior; Korea was the problem. And after weeks of personal stress and anxiety, being isolated from my day-to-day life left me crying in my hotel room hours before flying out.
But I loved every second of it. Being able to truly embrace a new country at my own pace, taking in the culture and the landscape of Seoul was an experience that left me with so much possibility and wonder. Seeing the snowfall at Incheon Airport was magical. I was excited for the future. Spending time with my family and the culture in Japan made me question if I wanted to move there. They have always been so warm and welcoming to me. Walking through the streets of their hometown Nara is something out of a painting. It is quiet; tranquil. You can forget all of your problems staring at the mountains. Travelling alone is a truly rewarding and empowering experience and I highly recommend it to any young woman who can afford to.
Coming back from my solo trip abroad I now find myself in a place of extreme uncertainty. I thought my head would have some clarity and a new perspective. The end of my university journey is looming and suddenly all these thoughts of life after uni have been percolating through my brain. I have always been a planner for the future, carefully calculating important events in my life through detailed Excel spreadsheets and Pinterest boards. Why am I like this? Perhaps an excessive need to be certain of every aspect of my life? But now I feel more uncertain than ever.
As women in our 20s, we are often told that we can have it all – that we can reach out and grasp every fruit. We are expected to travel, watch concerts, spend as much time with our friends and participate in as many extra-curricular activities as possible, as well as go out partying because this is the time to be young and stupid – but then also study hard, have a routine, achieve success in our career, make as much money as we can, save up for a house, eat healthily and work out at least three times a week to keep up with impossible beauty standard – we are trapped within the branches of our own personal fig trees, and consequently suffocating our youth.
In these moments of indecision, the fig tree becomes a metaphor for my own inner turmoil. Each branch seems equally enticing, yet equally daunting. Should I pursue a traditional career path, climbing the corporate ladder in pursuit of financial stability and professional recognition? Or should I heed the call of my passions, carving out a niche for myself in a less conventional field, risking instability in pursuit of personal fulfilment? The world is my oyster but what if there is no pearl inside?
As I grapple with these questions, I have come to realise that the fig tree offers no easy answers. Like Plath’s protagonist, I cannot just simply reach out and pluck the perfect fruit and avoid the inherent contradictions and compromises of womanhood. Instead, I need to learn to embrace the uncertainty and to find value and purpose in the tangled branches and shadowed recesses of the tree.
I realise now that maybe it’s okay to not know which path I am going to take. Amid life’s chaotic unpredictability, there is beauty to be found in the unknown. And now, instead of watching the figs wrinkle and rot around me, I will break free from the branches that suffocate me and trust the one I pluck will lead me to my pearl.
Comentarios