When rain came looking for me 🫠

Rain. Tell me, how many of you actually love rain? Or at least like it? Maybe a few of you. To those who do—I absolutely love you guys. But to the ones who keep giving rain a gloomy, heartbreak, sad, lonely vibe—seriously, maybe you’re going through a serious life crisis. It frustrates me every time I scroll through Spotify and see endless sad songs about rain. As if the skies exist only to cry with us.

Rain has been misunderstood for centuries. Rain isn’t sadness.

What if I told you that rain travels miles, crossing oceans and lands, just to fall on you? Well, even I wasn’t always a rain fan. But one day, on a long drive with my father on his TVS to another city, everything changed. That day it wasn’t a soft drizzle—it was pouring, as if the whole city could drown. But for me, it didn’t matter. Because growing up, I always hid myself inside the house, as if danger was waiting the second I stepped out. I don’t know why I built those walls.

But that day, on that bike ride, was the first time I allowed myself to truly see the rain—and let the rain see me back. I still remember the smell of wet earth on the outskirts, raw and wild, and the way every drop gave me a shiver. But for the first time, the rain didn’t feel like an enemy. It felt like freedom. That’s when I realized rain doesn’t hurt—it touches. That’s when I rewrote its meaning in my dictionary.

Now, rain means freedom. Rain means connection. Rain means acceptance.

Whenever it falls, I don’t hide anymore. I embrace it, like a desperate peacock waiting for its stage. There have been many rains and many moments since then. I collect them like Pokémons—each one different, each one special. My favorites? The rains I danced in with my cousins, the ones I laughed through with friends, the ones where I listened to my favorite songs while drops tapped on my window.

Rain will always be more than weather. It’s memory. It’s music. It’s hope. And if you listen closely, you’ll realize—it’s been waiting for you all along.

So next time it rains, don’t just watch it fall. Step into it. Because maybe, just maybe, it’s not here to drown your sorrows, but to remind you that even the sky knows how to let go.

Oh, and one last thing before I go: not all rain is water. On Venus, it rains sulfuric acid. On Saturn’s moon Titan, it rains methane. Basically, Earth’s rain is the spa version of rain. So chill out and let it shower you.