I turned 30 this year, and instead of feeling that I have built a life, I feel defeated, depressed and left behind.
I moved to Europe 14 years ago to study medicine and have lived alone ever since. Somewhere along the way, depression, loneliness and isolation took over. I gradually lost my ability to function and think clearly. I eventually left medicine and started studying something else. Now, at 30, I still have not finished my bachelor's degree. I only have my final project left, yet some days even getting out of bed feels impossible.
I have almost no friends. What I wanted more than anything was simply genuine companionship, but the relationships I found were mostly with men who saw my loneliness and vulnerability as something they could exploit. I was already exhausted, depressed and desperate for affection, so I tolerated things I normally never would have tolerated.
One long-distance relationship particularly damaged me. He played with my emotions, humiliated me, exploited how emotionally deprived I was, and I kept forgiving him and returning. At one point he told me, “If I wanted to, I could ruin your life.” Later, after leaving his poison behind, he mocked the idea that he had harmed me: “Did I tell you not to pray? How could I ruin your life when we live so far apart?”
I had spent years trying to live a disciplined and religious life in Europe. That relationship disturbed something inside me deeply. I made mistakes during a period when I was severely depressed, but I have since tried to reset my moral compass and protect my faith, dignity and upbringing.
I also tried Islamic marriage groups, hoping that approaching marriage seriously would be different. Instead, I repeatedly encountered men who seemed interested in entertainment, control or sexual gratification while using religion and marriage as respectable packaging. Some had spent years in casual or sexual relationships and suddenly wanted a “pure” woman, while apparently having no intention of holding themselves to the same standard.
I am tired of being someone's temporary experiment.
The painful part is that this goes much further back than romantic relationships. I don't remember ever truly feeling loved growing up. My brother has probably been the one person whose love I never doubted. My relationship with my parents became more loving later in life, but as a child I often felt unseen by my mother, while my father seemed preoccupied with his image and place in society.
Now my parents are getting older, I have only one sibling, and I am terrified of eventually losing the few people I still have.
I look around and see people living ordinary lives with their spouses, children, families and loved ones. Meanwhile, I am breaking down alone. I cry walking down the street, at the bus stop, in the supermarket. Sometimes I barely leave my bed. I struggle to find any emotional middle ground: one day I feel high and capable of rebuilding everything, then I spend days completely down again.
People say loneliness as though it is a temporary feeling. For me, it has been the structure of my life—from adolescence, through moving abroad, and into adulthood. Moving to another country only made it deeper and harder.
I am 30 years old and I am exhausted from carrying myself alone.
I don't need another person to tell me that “30 is still young.” I know that intellectually. What I don't know is how to rebuild a life after spending so many years surviving instead of living—how to finish my degree, regain my ability to function, build healthy friendships, protect myself from people who exploit vulnerability, and somehow believe that love and belonging are still possible for me.
I am tired. I genuinely don't know where to begin.
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