A little about strangers, a little about life, and a little about ourselves. TRAVEL CONVERSATIONS WITH MEL

TABLE OF CONTENTS Prologue Word Finder Before we begin Naf Smilebook We Board Again

She has spent countless hours in airports, surrounded by strangers whose names she would never know and whose stories she would never hear. She has boarded flights beside unfamiliar faces that somehow felt a little familiar, as though she had met them somewhere before, perhaps in a dream, perhaps in another lifetime, or perhaps in the quiet corners of her own imagination. She would often find herself looking at them, wondering. What awaits beyond their physical form? Has life been kind to them? Have they been kind to themselves? What have they survived that nobody knows about? What are they looking forward to? And what might they be quietly wishing for as they fasten their seatbelts and prepare to leave one little piece of their world behind? She wondered about the woman sitting alone by the boarding gate, staring into her coffee. The man who smiled at his phone before slipping it back into his pocket. The tired-looking father trying to keep his kids PROLOGUE

entertained. The young traveller whose eyes carried the kind of excitement that only comes with new beginnings. Everyone seemed to be going somewhere. Yet, she couldn't help wondering how many of them were also trying to find their way back to something. Likely to a person. Possibly to a place. Potentially to a version of themselves they had lost somewhere along the way. Airports have a funny way of making you feel both connected to the world and entirely alone in it. Thousands of people move through the same spaces, carrying their little worlds in their bags, their hearts, and the thoughts they rarely say aloud. There are reunions, goodbyes, new beginnings, postponed dreams, and quiet endings happening all at once. And somewhere in between the announcements, the rolling suitcases, and the endless queues, there is a kind of silence that belongs only to you. Mel knows that silence well. She has sat in it, watched it, and filled it with

questions. Sometimes, she would find herself listening to conversations around her, not because she wished to intrude, but because she was curious about the little things that made people who they were. A passing remark, a tired sigh, a spontaneous laugh, or the way someone's eyes softened when they spoke about home. It could become a doorway into a much bigger thought. She began to realise that what fascinated her most about people was not what they showed the world, but everything that lived quietly beneath the surface. The unspoken things. The lessons they had learned the hard way. The beliefs they had outgrown. The people they had loved, the mistakes they had forgiven themselves for, and the dreams they were still brave enough to carry. She wondered if strangers were ever truly strangers, or if they were simply people whose stories had not yet crossed ours. Moreover, that was where this book began. Not with a grand plan to understand the world, nor with

the expectation of finding answers to life's most complicated questions. It began with a simple wish: she did not want to pass through another boarding gate alone with nothing but her thoughts for company. She decided to carry a conversation with her instead. A conversation with the world, with the people in it, and with the parts of herself that only seemed to speak when everything else grew quiet. Then, just like that, every airport became a little more interesting. Every flight became an invitation to think differently. Every unfamiliar face became a reminder that there was so much more to a person than what the eyes could see. The strangers she encountered, whether in passing or through the stories she imagined around them, began giving her something unexpected: new perspectives, gentle reminders, uncomfortable truths, and questions she had never thought to ask herself. Some thoughts arrived like sunlight through an airplane window. Others came like turbulence, shaking loose the things she thought she understood. A few stayed with her long after the plane had landed,

quietly changing the way she looked at the world. She began to see that life rarely offers its lessons in neat little packages. Sometimes, wisdom comes from a conversation with someone who has lived a hundred different lives within one lifetime. Sometimes, it comes from a stranger who says something ordinary without realising how deeply it resonates with you. So sometimes, the person who teaches you the most is someone you will never meet at all. Perhaps that is the beauty of being human. We are all carrying stories that are too big for a photograph, too complicated for a brief introduction, and too precious to be measured by the places we have been or the things we have achieved. We are all becoming something, even when we think we are standing still. And we are all, in one way or another, trying to make sense of it. Travel Conversations with Mel is a collection of those quiet wanderings of the mind. It is about the thoughts that visit us between destinations, the questions that surface when we finally have a moment to ourselves, and the little truths we discover when we allow

ourselves to look beyond the obvious. It is about people, it is also about you. About the things you have carried without knowing why. The beliefs you have held onto because they once kept you safe. The moments that changed you, the moments you wish you could revisit, and the versions of yourself you have had to leave behind to become who you are today. It is about the strange comfort of realising that someone, somewhere, might be asking the very same questions you are. You may not agree with every thought in these pages. You may find yourself questioning a few, smiling at others, or pausing at a sentence that feels as though it has found its way into your life at precisely the right moment. That is perfectly alright. These pages are not here to tell you how to live, what to believe, or who you ought to become. They are simply an invitation to sit with a thought for a little while, to look at life from another window, and to make

room for the possibility that there is more than one way to understand the things we experience. Think of it as a conversation over a warm cup of tea. There is no rush to finish it. No pressure to have the right answers. No need to pretend you have everything figured out. You can simply be here. Plus, why not read a page while waiting for a flight? You might find a chapter when your thoughts feel a little too loud. Or stumble upon a few words that stay with you long after you have closed the book. Wherever you are when you open these pages, I hope you find something that feels familiar, something that makes you curious, or something that gently reminds you to be a little kinder to yourself. Because somewhere between where we have been and where we are going, there is a life unfolding that deserves our attention. And sometimes, all it takes to see it differently is a conversation.

However, before we begin, let me ask you something. The last time you sat beside a stranger, whether on a plane, at a café, in a waiting room, or somewhere in between, did you ever wonder what their story might be? Did you ever consider that behind their quietness was a world you could never fully imagine? That they might have been celebrating something beautiful, grieving something private, or gathering the courage to begin again? Aditionally, did it ever occur to you that, somewhere in their own thoughts, they might have been wondering about you, too? Maybe we are not as different as we sometimes believe. It could be that we are all just travellers, moving through different seasons of life, carrying our own little histories, searching for meaning in familiar places and unfamiliar faces. That is why, every now and then, we need a reminder that we are not the only ones figuring it all out.

Therefore, wherever you are headed, take a breath. Settle in. Let the world move at its own pace for a moment. There is no need to hurry. The plane will take off when it is ready. And for now, we have a little time to talk. Welcome to Travel Conversations with Mel. I'm glad you're here.

BEFORE WE BEGIN Honest conversations stay with us long after the words have been spoken. Not because someone had all the answers, but because, for a little while, we felt safe enough be true to ourselves. The questions ahead are not meant to define you, fix you, or uncover some grand truth about who you are. They are simply little invitations to pause and look inward. You might find yourself smiling at a memory, sitting quietly with something you have never quite understood, or discovering that a story you have carried for years looks different when you finally give it room to breathe. There are no right or wrong answers here. You can answer in a sentence, write a whole page, or sit with a question and let it follow you through the day. Skip the ones that feel too heavy. Return to the ones that stay with you. Shall we begin? — Mel

NAF SMILEBOOK The Turbine of EmpathyAdd QR to Linkedin Profile?

“I would want you to know that I genuinely wish you well. There was a time when I was so caught up chasing the things I thought would make me happy that I lost sight of what truly mattered. I was chasing worldly achievements, trying to become something, trying to get somewhere, and along the way, I ended up hurt and broken. I don't mean to make this a religious conversation, but two incredible people made dua for me during some of the hardest moments of my life. I strongly believe their kindness and prayers helped carry me through. That is why, whenever I find myself sitting alone or simply observing people around me, I make a little wish for them. I hope they find happiness. I hope they find the courage to get through whatever they are facing. I hope they have someone who believes in them, even when they struggle to believe in themselves. I think everyone deserves to have someone quietly rooting for them. Someone who hopes they make it, who encourages them when life gets dark, and who reminds them that there is still something beautiful waiting on the other side. If I can be that person for someone, even from a distance, I would like to be. So believe that I am wishing you the best” 1. If I had never met you before today, what is one thing you would want me to know about you that I probably wouldn't discover just by looking at you?

“I'd call it Grand Theft Auto. Honestly, I feel like I'm racing towards a big win, only to unlock another mission immediately afterwards. Just when I think I've figured something out, life introduces a new challenge, a new opportunity, or an entirely different direction. But I'm enjoying the game a little more these days. I'm no longer as concerned about reaching the finish line as I am about discovering what happens next. Besides, what's the fun in playing if you already know how the story ends?” 2. If your life were a book, what chapter would you say you are living in right now? What would you call it? 3. What is something about yourself that took you a long time to understand or accept? “This was a particularly hard pill to swallow. Until I was about 25, I genuinely believed I was a rude and selfish woman. From a young age, I had been told I was stubborn, especially when I wanted something and refused to give up on it. Whenever my family judged me, I spoke up for myself. Whenever something didn't feel right, I tried to walk away from it. Over time, I began to believe that being strong-headed was simply who I was.

And somewhere along the way, I forgot how to cry. I couldn't allow myself to be vulnerable because I associated vulnerability with weakness. I convinced myself that I could manage everything alone and that I didn't need anything as fragile as emotional connection. That belief cost me relationships. I gave up on people easily because I thought I would be perfectly fine without them. I didn't always know how to communicate my hurt, ask for reassurance, or admit that something had wounded me. Then came a period of self-exploration and therapy that slowly changed the way I understood myself. I began to realise that beneath all that stubbornness was a deeply emotional person. I was a soft-hearted girl who wanted to feel safe, loved, and understood. And accepting that was surprisingly difficult. By then, I had built an entire identity around the person I thought I was. Discovering that I had misunderstood myself for so long felt like watching the foundations of my life crumble. But I'm grateful I allowed that process to happen. Because once I began to understand myself, I could finally start building a life that felt authentic to me. I could create my own brand, write books, explore my creativity, and pursue things I might never have dared to pursue if I had continued living inside that old identity.

Sometimes, finding yourself means letting go of the person you spent years convincing yourself you had to be. And sometimes, the strongest thing you can do is admit that you were never as invulnerable as you thought you were.” 4. Looking back at your life, what experience changed the way you see the world the most? “The most challenging period of my life was when I was trying to figure out who I was and what I truly wanted to do. I had always felt creative and a little different, but eventually, I realised that being creative and unique wasn't necessarily what made me special. So many people have their own beautiful ways of expressing themselves. I wanted to understand what I could contribute that was genuinely meaningful. In search of those answers, I left my job without any savings. I took out a loan, found myself in debt, and was living with my mother while trying to figure out my next move. Around the same time, I discovered a lump in my breast. It felt as though life was pressing in on me from every direction. What made that period even harder was the emotional pain I experienced at home. Some of the words spoken to me, particularly by my mother, cut deeply. It brought back feelings I had carried since childhood, and I found myself struggling to cope with everything at once.

Eventually, my mental health deteriorated to a point where I began having suicidal thoughts. I came frighteningly close to giving up on my life. I was terrified, and I knew I couldn't get through it alone. I reached out to my mentor and my aunt, asking them to help me. And the way these two women held me through that period is something I will always be grateful for. They showed up with a kind of love that didn't require me to prove my worth. They didn't need me to be successful, impressive, or strong. They simply cared about me, even when I could barely hold myself together. Their love changed the way I understood strength. Until then, I had associated strength with independence, achievement, status, and the ability to endure difficult things without falling apart. But these women taught me something different. Strength is also the ability to hold someone gently, even when life has been difficult for you, too. It's being able to offer kindness without making someone earn it. It's showing up for another person without needing recognition or reward. Since then, I've become less interested in the titles people hold and more interested in the kind of person they choose to

be. I still want to achieve things. I still have dreams, ambitions, and plenty of missions to complete. But I want my achievements to mean something beyond the titles attached to my name. I want to become someone who makes life a little easier for others, someone who can offer the same kind of gentleness that once helped me find my way back to myself. Maybe that is one of the most meaningful things we can do with our pain: allow it to deepen our capacity for kindness without letting it take away our hope.” 5. What is something life taught you that you wish you had understood a little earlier? “That things don't always have to go according to plan. For the longest time, I thought I needed to know exactly where I was going and how I was going to get there. I wanted certainty. I wanted things to make sense. I wanted to believe that if I worked hard enough and made the right decisions, life would eventually follow the path I had laid out for it. But life doesn't always work that way. Some of the most meaningful experiences I've had arrived when everything seemed to be falling apart. Some of the people who changed my life appeared when I wasn't looking for anyone. And some of the opportunities that mattered most came from circumstances I would never have

deliberately chosen. I've learned that not every detour is a mistake, and not every delay means you're falling behind. Sometimes, life has something to teach you before it gives you somewhere new to go. I wish I had understood earlier that I didn't have to control every part of the journey to trust that I was still moving forward.“ 6. Do you think life has been kind to you? And more importantly, do you think you have been kind to yourself? “For a long time, life wasn't particularly kind to me. My parents fought and eventually divorced. My father struggled with drug use, and our living arrangements were complicated. I grew up around people whose attitudes towards women often made me uncomfortable, where appearances and money seemed to carry more weight than character. Those experiences shaped me in ways I didn't fully understand until much later. Looking back, I sometimes think that if my life had been easier, I might never have questioned certain things so deeply. I would have followed a conventional path, settled into a life that looked good from the outside, and never felt the need to build something of my own.

I don't romanticise the pain I experienced, and I wouldn't wish those circumstances on anyone. But I can acknowledge that they shaped my perspective. They made me question the things people often accept without thinking. They made me want to create something that reflected my own values, rather than simply follow the expectations placed upon me And now, at 28, I'm learning to be kinder to myself. I'm learning that I don't have to become hard just because life has been hard. I don't have to compete with everyone around me, and I certainly don't have to step on someone else to build something meaningful for myself. I can be ambitious and gentle. I can be independent and still need people. I can protect myself without losing my empathy. I wonder if the real gift isn't that life was unkind to me. It could be that I'm finally learning I don't have to continue being unkind to myself because of it.”

“I don't think I would have much advice for her. Honestly, I'd just want to hold her for as long as I could. She didn't need another person telling her what to do. She had enough fire in her already. She didn't need someone to rescue her or convince her that she was capable. She needed to feel safe enough to let that fire burn without being afraid of what would happen next. So I'd ask her to take a deep breath. I'd tell her to stand tall and keep believing in that little spark she feels inside, even when the people around her don't understand it. I'd tell her that she doesn't have to prove her worth to everyone who questions it. She doesn't have to keep explaining herself to people who have already decided who she is. Most importantly, I'd tell her not to spend her entire life searching for love in places where she has to abandon herself to receive it. Learn to love yourself, little one. Learn to recognise the people who make you feel safe. Learn that you can be soft without being weak and that you can need someone without losing your independence. 7. If you could sit beside your younger self for ten minutes, what would you want to tell her?

You don't have to become untouchable to survive. One day, you'll understand that the softness you tried so hard to hide was never your weakness. It was always part of your magic.” 8. What is something you have carried with you for years, whether a belief, a memory, a fear, or an expectation, that you are still learning to make peace with? “I've always carried the belief that I needed my parents' approval to succeed. Some part of me still does, especially because of the cultural expectations surrounding family, respect, and what it means to make your parents proud. It's difficult to explain how deeply those expectations can influence your decisions. You can be an adult, capable of making your own choices, and still find yourself questioning whether you're allowed to want something different from what your family wants for you. For me, that belief often led to overthinking. It made me second-guess myself and, at times, shrink parts of who I was just to make myself easier to understand or accept. I'm learning to challenge that belief now. One thing I've come to realise is that people can only understand you through the experiences, knowledge, and

perspectives they have. Sometimes, their inability to understand your choices says more about the limits of their own perspective than it does about the validity of your dreams. This is one of the reasons my aunt and my mentor mean so much to me. They are educated, strong women who have faced their own challenges, yet they have shown me that it is possible to experience hardship without losing your ability to love generously. They helped me see that understanding, kindness, and emotional maturity are not things we should take for granted. And if they can choose to love with such generosity, despite everything life has put them through, then I can learn to do the same. I'm still learning to make peace with the fact that I may not always receive the approval I once thought I needed. But I no longer want to make my life smaller while waiting for someone else to understand it.”

“Absolutely. I once imagined myself as a corporate woman with an impressive title, a fancy office, and a big chair from which I could make important decisions. I thought that was the person I was meant to become. I wanted to be successful, respected, and independent. There was nothing wrong with those ambitions, but I had begun to measure my worth through them. I thought becoming that woman would finally make me feel like I had arrived. Then life happened, and my understanding of success began to change. I started exploring parts of myself I had neglected. I allowed myself to be curious, to create, to question, and to discover what actually made me feel alive. Somewhere along the way, I stopped trying so hard to become the main character in a story that I thought everyone else was watching. Instead, I began to feel as though I was becoming part of something much bigger than myself. Today, building Naf Smilebook, creating art, writing, and 9. Have you ever outgrown a version of yourself that you once thought you would be forever? What helped you change?

sharing ideas feel more natural to me. I feel connected to what I'm doing in a way that I didn't always feel when I was chasing a particular title or position. And strangely enough, that has made me more confident. I no longer need to imagine myself sitting in a big chair to feel important. I can find meaning in the things I create, the people I connect with, and the conversations that might help someone see their own life differently. I'm not saying I've abandoned ambition. If anything, I think my ambitions have become bigger. They're just rooted in something different now. I don't want to spend my life proving that I'm worthy of being here. I want to enjoy being here. In other words, I am curving my own fancy chair.”

“I'm not entirely sure that we can ever be understood completely by another person. Maybe that's a little pessimistic, or perhaps I simply haven't lived enough to know otherwise. I think people understand us through their own experiences, their needs, and the parts of themselves they recognise in us. Sometimes, even when someone genuinely cares about you, they may not fully understand why something matters so much to you or why certain experiences affect you the way they do. At the moment, I haven't experienced the kind of romantic relationship in which I feel deeply understood and held in that particular way. I'm not married or in love, and I imagine there are layers of understanding that come with sharing your life with someone. But I do believe that kind of connection is possible. I believe there may be someone out there with whom understanding feels less like explaining myself and more like being met halfway. Someone who is curious enough to learn who I am, patient enough to understand that I'm still growing, and willing to let me do the same for him. Someone who doesn't need me to be perfectly put together 10. What does feeling truly understood by another person mean to you? Have you experienced it?

before he can love me. To me being understood doesn't mean that another person will always know what you're feeling or get everything right. Rather, it means they care enough to keep asking, keep listening, and keep trying. For now, I'm learning to offer myself that kind of patience, too. Because I don't want to spend my life waiting for someone else to understand me while neglecting the responsibility of understanding myself.” 11. What is one thing you wish people understood about you without you having to explain it? “I wish people understood that I don't mind them choosing to walk away. I don't need everyone to like me, agree with me, or want me in their lives. I understand that people grow apart, that circumstances change, and that not every connection is meant to last forever. What hurts me is dishonesty. I would much rather someone tell me that they no longer want to be part of my life than keep me around through lies, manipulation, or half-hearted promises. That also, can be the reason why coporate jobs are difficult to tolerate.

Rejection doesn't frighten me as much as deception does. At least rejection gives you something honest to work with. It allows you to grieve, accept what has happened, and move forward. I'm also aware that people experience us differently. Someone may meet me and find me warm and approachable, while someone else may find me intimidating or difficult to understand. I can't control every impression I leave behind, and I don't think I should have to. What I can do is take responsibility for how I treat people, remain open to learning when I've made a mistake, and recognise when a connection is no longer healthy for either of us. I've learned that we sometimes react to one another through the things we've experienced, the assumptions we carry, and the ways we interpret the world. That doesn't mean every reaction is justified, but it does mean that understanding a relationship often requires looking beyond the surface. I wish more people felt comfortable being honest enough to say, This isn't working for me anymore. We don't have to turn every ending into a battle. Sometimes, letting someone go with honesty and kindness is the most respectful thing we can do for each other.”

“I believe there may be a reason behind the people we meet, especially considering that, in our culture, many of us grow up believing that our stories are already written. But I also believe we have a responsibility to decide what we do with the experiences and relationships that come our way. Sometimes, we give relationships more meaning than they deserve. We keep investing time, energy, and emotion into people simply because we have known them for a long time or because we cannot accept that something we once valued has changed. We convince ourselves that if a person entered our lives for a reason, we must keep them there forever. I don't think that's necessarily true. I believe, some people come into our lives to teach us something and others walk beside us for a lifetime. Plus there are relationships whose purpose we only understand after we've found the courage to leave them behind, right? For me, faith and personal responsibility can exist together. I believe in the Creator and the fact that our stories are already written, but I also believe we have been given the ability to think, learn, reflect, and make decisions. We don't have to surrender our entire lives to our circumstances or allow other people to decide who we 12. Do you believe people come into our lives for a reason, or do we give meaning to the people we meet along the way?

become. If you're living through a difficult chapter, I hope you remember that your present circumstances don't have to define your entire story. Seek knowledge. Build your skills. Strengthen your mind. Learn to recognise what is within your control, and have the courage to act where you can. You may not be able to choose everything that happens to you, but you can work towards changing the direction in which your life is going. Sometimes, the meaning isn't simply in who you meet. It's in who you become because of the meeting, and what you choose to do afterwards.”

“I can't think of one particular stranger who said something that stayed with me forever, but my years working in resorts introduced me to many people whose lives left a lasting impression on me. I met people who had chosen to live far away from their families to earn a living. People who sacrificed sleep, missed important moments at home, and remained committed to their work for years. I watched people carry responsibilities that were often invisible to everyone around them. Their resilience and work ethic have motivated me on many occasions. At the same time, I don't believe that having to sacrifice your health, your relationships, or your peace should be the price of being considered hardworking. I don't think anyone should have to spend their entire life proving their worth through exhaustion. Yet, I have a deep respect for people who continue to show up for their responsibilities, particularly when I know how much they are carrying behind the scenes. Their lives have reminded me that we rarely know the full story of the person standing in front of us. 13. Has a stranger ever said or done something that stayed with you long after you parted ways? What happened?

A person can be smiling at work while missing their children. Someone who seems quiet may be carrying financial worries they cannot afford to talk about. And the colleague who never complains may simply have learned that there is nobody available to take their place. I think we could all benefit from looking at people with a little more curiosity and a little less judgement. We don't always need to know someone's story to treat them with kindness. Sometimes, it is enough to remember that they have one.” 14. What do you think people need more of in today's world, but rarely receive enough of? “Unconditional, unfiltered love and loyalty. I think we have become so accustomed to evaluating people through what they offer us that we sometimes forget how to care for someone without calculating what we might receive in return. We want people to understand us, but we don't always make the effort to understand them. We want loyalty, but sometimes only when it is convenient. We want to be loved for who we are, yet we can be quick to withdraw that love when someone disappoints us or becomes difficult to understand. Of course, love needs boundaries. Loyalty shouldn't mean tolerating abuse, and unconditional care doesn't require us

to abandon ourselves. But I think there is something beautiful about knowing that someone genuinely wants the best for you, even when they have nothing to gain from your happiness. Someone who can celebrate your success without feeling threatened by it. Someone who can tell you the truth without trying to humiliate you. Someone who can disagree with you and still treat you with respect. We need more of that. We need relationships in which people feel safe enough to be honest, imperfect, and human. And perhaps that kind of love begins with the small things: listening without rushing to respond, keeping a promise, offering encouragement, or choosing not to make someone's difficult day any harder than it already is. We may not be able to give everyone the world. But we can become a little more generous with the kindness we have.” 15. What does a peaceful life look like to you? Not the life that impresses others, but the one that would genuinely make you happy. “A quiet home of my own.

A life without the constant feeling that I'm running out of time or falling behind. No unnecessary rush, no endless deadlines dictating every moment, and enough health and financial security to choose work that fulfils me rather than simply drains me. I'd love to spend my days creating art, writing books, speaking to people, and building things that make a difference. I'd love to wake up excited about what I'm working on, not because I need to prove anything to anyone, but because I genuinely enjoy what I do. And I'd like to have enough space in my life to be the lovey- dovey girl I suspect I've always been underneath everything. To love openly. To laugh over little things. To make a home feel warm. To care for the people around me without feeling as though I'm neglecting myself in the process. Perhaps one day, I'd like a little family of my own, too. Nothing extravagant. Just a home where people feel safe enough to be themselves, where kindness is ordinary, where difficult conversations are allowed, and where love doesn't have to be earned through perfection. I still have big dreams, and I want to build something meaningful with my life. But I no longer want success to come at the expense of the very things that make life worth living.

If I can create, contribute, love, and still have the energy to enjoy a quiet evening in my own home, I think I'd be doing rather well.” 16. If you could leave one thought, lesson, or piece of advice with someone you might never meet again, what would it be? “Don't let other people's opinions become bigger than your own dreams. If there's a little spark inside you that keeps asking you to create something, explore something, or become something, give yourself the chance to find out what it could be. You don't have to understand the entire journey before taking the first step. Sometimes, all you have is an idea that won't leave you alone. Sometimes, you have a feeling that there's more to life than what you're currently experiencing. Don't dismiss that feeling simply because other people cannot see what you see. Learn. Work on yourself. Build your knowledge and your skills. Be willing to make mistakes, change direction, and begin again when necessary. And when things finally start to fall into place, keep going. Not because you need to spend your entire life chasing the next achievement, but because growth doesn't have to end the moment you become comfortable.

You are allowed to want more from life, and you are allowed to define what more means to you. Just remember to enjoy the person you're becoming along the way. A dream should give your life meaning, not become another reason to believe you're never enough.“ 17. Imagine we have reached our boarding gate, and in a few moments, we will go our separate ways. Is there a question about life you are still trying to answer? What is it? “The answer doesn't matter as much as the question itself. At this point in my life, I'm genuinely excited to see what happens next. I've spent so much time trying to understand who I am, why certain things happened, and what I'm supposed to do with everything I've learned. I'm beginning to realise that I don't need to have every answer before I move forward. So, the question I'd leave myself with is: What will my next realisation be, and what might it make possible? I like the thought that there are still things about myself I haven't discovered, experiences I haven't had, people I haven't met, and ideas I haven't even begun to imagine.

Maybe the next chapter will challenge something I already believe or it will introduce me to a part of myself I haven't yet had the courage to explore. Also, it may simply teach me to appreciate something I've been overlooking all along. Whatever it is, I want to remain curious enough to welcome it. I don't want to become so attached to the person I am today that I leave no room for the person I might become tomorrow. For now, I'm happy to keep learning, creating, and seeing where this journey takes me. After all, if life has taught me anything, it's that the most interesting part of the story is often the part you never saw coming. And I have a feeling mine is far from over.”

WE BOARD AGAIN A note from Mel There is something rather beautiful about listening to someone speak about the person they used to be. We often imagine that growth is about becoming someone entirely new. But sometimes, it is about returning to the person we were before the world taught us to hide certain parts of ourselves. Listening to Naf, I couldn't help wondering how many of us have mistaken our survival mechanisms for our personalities. How many of us have spent years being called difficult, stubborn, too sensitive, or too independent, only to discover that beneath those labels was a person who was simply trying to find a little safety in the world. Perhaps we all have a version of ourselves we are still trying to understand. What struck me most about Naf wasn't that she had endured difficult experiences. Life has a way of giving each of us our own share of things we never asked for. It was the way she had begun to make something meaningful out of hers.

Through Naf Smilebook, she is creating a space for art, reflection, and the conversations we don't always know how to have. And I find myself thinking that this is what happens when we stop asking our pain to explain our worth and start asking what we might create with the life we have been given. Of course, not every painful experience needs to become a lesson. Not every wound needs to become a work of art. Sometimes, healing is simply getting out of bed, making yourself something to eat, or allowing yourself to rest without feeling guilty about it. But sometimes, when we have the space and the courage, we discover that creating something can help us meet ourselves in ways that words alone cannot. For instance, a brushstroke can say what the heart has struggled to explain. A blank page can hold a feeling we aren't ready to share with another person. Additionally, in the simple act of making something with our own hands, we begin to realise that there are still parts of ourselves waiting to be discovered. That is what makes Naf Smilebook interesting to me. It isn't simply about challenges. It is about the person who discovers something about herself while

going through it. It is about giving people permission to be curious about their own thoughts, to express themselves without needing to be perfect, and to explore the possibility that they are more than the stories they have been told about who they are. I particularly liked something Naf said about her younger self. She didn't think the little girl needed rescuing. She believed that girl already had enough fire in her; she simply needed to feel safe enough to unleash it. I think there is a little wisdom in that for all of us. We spend so much time trying to fix ourselves, improve ourselves, and become people the world will find easier to accept. We tend to forget that we don't always need fixing. What we need is understanding. What we need is room to breathe, to make mistakes, to change our minds, and to discover who we are without constantly worrying about who we ought to be. Hopefully, the same kindness we so readily offer others is something we need to learn to offer ourselves. I don't know whether Naf has found all the answers she is looking for. I suspect she hasn't, and I rather hope she never stops asking questions.

After all, a person who remains curious about herself leaves room for life to surprise her. And if there is one thing I would like to take away from our conversation, it is this: You do not have to turn your pain into something extraordinary to deserve an extraordinary life. But if creating something beautiful helps you find your way back to yourself, allow yourself that joy. I believe that is what Naf Smilebook represents at its heart. That every difficult experience has a hidden purpose, an invitation to pause, create, reflect, and make a little more room for yourself. And that is enough for one beginning. Now, I wonder about you. Have you ever spent so long trying to become the person others expected you to be that you forgot to ask yourself who you wanted to become? Possibly you have and are still figuring it out. If so, I hope you give yourself a little grace. You don't have to have everything worked out before you begin

again. Sometimes, all you need is a little space, a little courage, and the willingness to listen to yourself. But enough about Naf and me for now. Our next conversation is waiting, and I have a feeling it might leave us with a few more questions than we started with. Shall we? Until the next boarding call, Mel

To be continued.....