This post is part of A Decade of Lessons series. It’s recommended to read the previous part of the story first 2015: The Messenger Had to Die; 2020: When the Emperor Said “Stop”

A decade after what seemed to be a major turning point in my life, things are looking significantly better. I can’t exactly share how I got from then to now because I was practically “guessing” my way out.

As far as the journey to “feeling good enough on my own” goes — the adventure of discovering self-love — I think I might have reached the “unhealthy” point. Now I’m at the state of, “I like myself with all its flaws, and I believe it’s good enough as it is. If you think it’s not good enough, then that’s your problem, not mine.”

In 2024, I got the opportunity to “switch lanes.” After working in the advertising industry for 15+ years, I moved into sports broadcasting. How does it feel to be an old yet new kid? I don’t know. I’m just moving with a lot of precaution, while trying to learn as much as I can, as quickly as I can.

This year, in 2025, I started taking part in some international sports events. In one of those events, I encountered a situation that felt like the next chapter of self-love. It felt like a “final exam,” but who am I to say? Every time I thought I had reached the final exam, the next chapter showed up.

As I shared in the first part of this series, romance has always been an appealing emotion for me, yet I’m always hesitant to get into it.

First of all, I’m not good at deciphering subtle signs or gestures. Second of all, I’m hopeless when it comes to giving the right kind of response. I’ve diligently read and watched all kinds of romance tips and guides, and I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m simply not cut out for it. Conveniently, I blame my zodiac sign, Sagittarius, for my inability to not tell things as they are.

Here comes life with its endless creativity in setting me up.

As usual, during events I just try to be as kind as I can be. After all, I’m an old yet new kid. I know I will need a lot of help from as many seasoned crew members at the venue as possible.

One day, my friend gave some coffee to another crew member who wasn’t part of our team. The coffee was from Aceh and Papua. I got excited to promote how vast Indonesia is and told him that Aceh and Papua are two hours apart, and that as we were speaking, it was already midnight in Papua. Not long after that, he left — only to come back a few seconds later just to say, with a wide smile, “I’m going to make this coffee at midnight!”

To me, sports broadcasting is highly stressful, so I understand how all of us try to make fun of each other (harmlessly, of course) whenever the opportunity arises — because we really need the entertainment.

After he left, my friend immediately said, “Oooh… he likes you.”
I was like, “Yeah, right.”

The next day, I received a WhatsApp message from that crew member — someone I didn’t remember ever giving my phone number to.

Out of politeness, I sent a laugh reaction, while in my head I was praying, “Dear Lord, please don’t let what my friend said be true. Do I really have to work on two things I have minimum knowledge of at the same time — sports broadcast and romance?”

Maybe God was being kind to accommodate my inability to decipher subtle signs, so He sent someone with obvious signs into my radar. But I didn’t run out of ideas to deny what I saw. For a few days, I didn’t have enough sleep — probably only 4–5 hours each night — so I told myself, “Maybe I’m hallucinating…”

I tried my best to keep a straight face and give neutral responses (or so I thought) whenever he threw those very obvious signs.

“Maybe I’m hallucinating…” I kept telling myself.

One day, the statement became a question:
“What if I’m not hallucinating?”

Eventually, it became:
“Do I need to check whether I’m hallucinating or not?”

For a few days, I wondered whether I needed to talk to him about what was going on. I told myself, “If I don’t talk to him, once we go back, life will return to normal — which is GOOD.” But I started becoming drawn to him because he’s smart, kind, and physically fortunate — like a really good package in one person.

In between wanting to talk to him or just letting it slide, a voice popped into my head:
“Would you at least for once fight for something that you know is good for you, as hard as you usually fight for something good for other people?”
And I went, “UGH, OKAY!”

It was the night before the closing day when I decided to get confirmation on my “hallucination.” I thought: if I was wrong, there was only one day left where I’d have to encounter him — not much room for awkwardness. I didn’t think about the possibility that I wasn’t hallucinating.

So that night, the day before the closing ceremony, I gathered my courage and texted him, asking to meet and speak privately.

It was probably about half an hour after sunset. Around that time, there’s usually no new transmission starting, so everyone tends to be more relaxed.

We met outside, and after some casual greetings, I went straight to business. Again, blame my zodiac sign.

“I just want to clarify something. Am I hallucinating — because there’s a huge chance I’m hallucinating due to lack of sleep — or is there some attraction between you and me?”

He just smiled. I stared at him while raising my eyebrow, gesturing, “So…?”

“Yes,” he said.
I kept looking at him, adding a little smile so it wasn’t too intense.

I honestly didn’t have anything to say. I didn’t prepare a single follow-up sentence. I was sure it wouldn’t take more than 15 minutes before we’d both go back to our work stations.

I was wrong. Big time.

“Yes, we are sending the correct feeds,” he added a moment later, referring to the broadcast feeds I often came to the Master Control Room to troubleshoot. In layman terms, “feeds” is the signal containing audio and visual that you see on your TV screen.

Oh shit. I wasn’t hallucinating. I had no comeback, so I just kept smiling.

“You are so confident. And cute,” he said, laughing a bit.

I wanted to argue with the “cute” remark but decided to let it go. “Thank you,” I replied.

Pause. Exchanging smiles. What else was I supposed to say?

“Which one do you like better — being called confident or cute?” he asked.

Either I had unhealthily mastered my “self-love” lesson, or my half-asleep self had some extra confidence, because I calmly said:

“Both. Because they’re all what I am.”

Then another surprising line followed out of my mouth:

“Whatever you like about me, I like it too.”

Excuse me, WHAT?
WHO IS THIS GIRL SPEAKING?

—

If I were to meet the 2015 version of myself, it would probably be easier to convince her that ten years later I’d get to ride a unicorn across a rainbow than to tell her the things I’ve just written.

—

In a few days, I will complete my 39th year on this earth. People usually say, “How time flies. Suddenly we’re 39.” If I may offer a different take: “Maybe your time flies. Mine? It crawled. I felt every step of it.”

—

I never thought in my life I would encounter such major shifts. And even if I had imagined them, I wouldn’t have believed I could actually go through them — let alone end up where I am now.

What a decade it has been.

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If you’re wondering what happened the rest of the night…

He just laughed after I told him “Whatever you like about me, I like it too.” He then looked down, and I saw he was holding something: a rosary. I didn’t expect to see that.

“Do you know what this is?” he asked me while showing what he had in his hand.

I nodded. “I went to Catholic schools so I know what that is. It’s a rosary, right?”

He smiled (again) and said, “We have to ask God for love, every time.” He then carried on explaining how important his faith is in his life. All the while, I was just thinking, “Is my Mama that powerful that she could order God to send a person to talk about faith to me in Bahrain?” Because my Mama is the only one that never skips the chance to raise such issues, including questioning me, “Did you go to church?” every Sunday.

And suddenly he asked, “Do you go to church?”
EXCUSE ME, WHAT? Seriously, Ma?!

And because it’s the exact question my Mama asks every Sunday, I gave him my template answer: “No. For the past few years I don’t really go to church.”

Before he asked “why” — because I knew that was going to be the follow-up question (or is it just me being defensive to the question) — I explained to him, “I don’t like going to church now because I think the sermons are pointless. We are now living in a time where people need a lot of encouragement, because the days are tough. But a lot of the sermons don’t really have a point. When I go to church, I’m hoping to leave with peace. But with those pointless sermons, I leave the church angrier than when I came, so I think what’s the point?”

I really need to know who my Mama’s connections in the heavens are because right after I finished my explanation/defense, came the exact statement my Mama always ends the discussion with: “That’s understandable… but we need the community,” he said.

“Yeah… that’s true…” I told him — the only thing I could tell.
He continued sharing about faith, and at the point where he kind of concluded, I told him, “Amen, Father,” while making a cross gesture. He just laughed.

I then responded to what he said, sharing my perspective, and when I concluded, he said,
“Thank you, Sister,” while making a cross gesture.

“Huh?” I was confused.
“You said ‘Amen, Father,’ so I said ‘Thank you, Sister,’” he explained.

I got lost in my own joke. Tsk.

What I thought wouldn’t go longer than 15 minutes turned into about one hour.

If you’re expecting a conclusion from this story, I’m sorry but I have to leave you with a disappointment.

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Carry on to the final part of this series, though, if you will…