Dear Beautiful

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Dear beautiful,

How you doing today? If the answer is great, I’m happy for you. If the answer is bad, let’s fix it. Because I’ve had those days too. And I’d have loved the help too.

I didn’t know how to say these words to you. I’m not the best at giving a speech. So I thought I’d write them down and let you read.

I get it. We may look different but we suffer the same. Whether we’re openly emotional or we dump it within ourselves, we feel the same. Whether we fit into that dress or have to have it custom ordered to our size, we love ourselves the same. With a little doubt. A little insecurity. A lot of wishful thinking.

You may not feel like you’re doing the best you can – at work, at home, in a relationship. You feel unsure. You have those moments when you wonder if anyone cares. And when they do, the acceptance is a task, not easy.

You do all these wonderful things that people compliment you for but you don’t see it. It’s not significant. It’s not changing lives or the world. So you sigh in silence as you hope to be someone else. The TV version of a woman who spends her silent nights, wishing the way you do, to be someone else she sees too. But you don’t know that.

Because how can she be that and this? How can you?

There’s a room filled with paper boxes. Each with a label – Strong, career woman. Submissive, housewife. Opinionated, judgemental. Open-minded, troublesome. Rebel, anti-establishment. Goody two shoes, daddy’s daughter. Abusive, vicious. Abused, liar.

You can only fit into one of these. You can’t be stunning and insecure. You can’t be successful and homely. You can’t have a career and a family. You can’t. You Can’t. YOU CAN’T.

Stop. Stop listening to those voices. Stop letting yourself believe them. Stop underestimating who you can be.

And never stop.

In a world that focuses so much on labelling who you are and what you do, never stop being your authentic self.

Around people who tell you your choice is a mistake, never stop taking chances.

When the ones you love try to hold you back in the name of care, never stop breaking free.

And that dream? The one that you shrug about as nothing but an unrealistic wish when deep within you want it more than anything you could imagine? Never stop chasing it.

This world isn’t a kind place to us. Yes, it’s harsher to some more than others. But that doesn’t make it better. For you to get where he has, you’ll work twice as hard and be overlooked twice as much. Don’t let that keep you down.

Don’t compare who you are to who she is.

She might get ahead of you faster than you got to where you are. Don’t hate her. There are enough people in this world to tear us down. Let it not be ourselves. We need each other today more than ever before. We need each other to fight for ourselves and the ones beside us. The ones who can scream and the ones who succumb. The ones who laugh and the ones who cry.

You may count yourself insignificant in a fight to prove ourselves important. But are you sure? Imagine if we all thought that. Who’d be left? Your voice and your fight matters. You matter. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

So go be that woman.

The one who chooses based on emotion.

The one who dreams beyond reason.

The one who hiccups when she laughs.

The one whose hair tangles with the wind.

The one who can seldom get a candid picture right.

We all have insecurities. We’re all unsure where life leads. We all date that stupid guy. We all fall in love and break our hearts.

Never let someone else’s perspective of who you are affect what you know about yourself. There’s no winning with the ones who are waiting with words that poke and hurt. So take yourself out of their game.

Be outspoken and shy. Be loud and socially awkward. Have an amazing career and a loving family.

It’s not impossible. You’ve seen it. You know it. You just have to believe it.

So go on. Spread those invisible wings and do what you’ve always wanted to do.

If you fly too close to the sun, we’re right here with a lot of cold wind.

With silent wishes and loud compliments,

Me.

Someday

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We’re at that point now. I don’t know where my life’s headed. You don’t know where yours seems to be going either. It’s not a cross road. It’s fuzzy vision. What’s two steps in front of me cannot be seen. It’s scary. I feel my heart begin to race. I turn to my right. Guess what I see?

Someday.

It’s not a place. It’s not a moment. It’s a face. It’s a person.

Someday.

In a little world of our own, you’ll come home to me. There’d be no goodbyes. No airport kisses. Just you and I.

Someday.

A bowl of soup and a lot of Netflix. Dala curled up around my feet. His head resting on my ankle. Yours on my shoulder. Our hands intertwined. I’ll squeeze tight every time the wall moves and the mother screams, “Will!” But I won’t be afraid. If the walls were to ever come alive, I know I’ll have you by my side.

Someday.

After dinner that should have been lunch, we’ll go on that walk I was never allowed to. The clock past midnight. Your arms around me, tight. As the curfews of the past seem to float away, the breeze I’d longed for becomes the cherry on my cake.

Someday.

Your work will get to you like never before. My ability to understand walking out the door. That screaming match I’d always feared. You’ll give me hugs instead of papers. That tear rolling down will tell tales of insecurities. Ones I’d never had to speak.

Someday.

We’ll fight over where the tv goes. Why you’re not allowed to keep those ugly clothes. How much space you need and how little you clean. You’ll end them with your crappy jokes. That laughter reaching my eyes like it always does. Remind me again, what were we fighting about?!

Someday.

That house will slowly become a home. Something I’d spent all my life longing for. The future no more a far away dream. It’ll be now. It’ll be here.

Someday.

This fuzz will fade. Our paths so clear, but never meet. Unless you hold my hand and walk into mine. Or I… into yours. Giving up dreams. Shedding family.

Someday.

Our hearts will race. That choice we make, changing everything in its wake.

Someday.

I’ll sit on that patio, overlooking the beach. A glass of chilled wine and Dala at my feet. My children running around with sand in their hair, happy.  The door behind me opens with a little creak.

He’ll walk through the door to put his arms around me.

Someday.

In a faraway land. In a home that we built. We’ll smile at the little ones. The hands holding me, putting my heart finally at ease.

I’ll turn to my right. Guess what I’ll see?

Someday.

When I Gave Up.. It Rained Glitter!

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Can you believe I have six versions of this blog post? Because there are just no words to describe my 2016 to you. It’s been a year of throwing my hands in the air with both frustration and excitement.

I started this year with something that was emotionally important to me.

I began focusing more on what I was doing. This life that had been forced upon me didn’t seem so bad anymore. I made friends I cared about. I met people who seemed out of my world. I identified ways that would make me better at work. I still wished I could have had the life I’d wanted. But I no longer felt like a failure.  So I gave up hope.

My new work and my plan B didn’t give me enough mental energy to blog though. My writing style began to change. I neither had the time nor the ability to write. I considered pulling down my blog. I thought it’s time to give up writing.

The idea only grew stronger with every draft I couldn’t finish, with every thought I couldn’t put into words. I remember that night. I was sitting by the window, staring at my computer. I didn’t want to hit Publish. The article was so cheesy, so romantic and so girly. It seemed like the worst thing I had ever written. Maybe I need to edit it a little, I thought to myself. Maybe I should just delete this article and this blog and admit I can no longer write! After an hour of arguing with myself, I finally published “To The Girl In Her Mid-20’s.”

You know what they say about taking chances? Letting that article stay was the best chance I ever took because “It went viral” is an understatement of what happened to me that week. It wasn’t the platforms that shared it, it wasn’t the BuzzFeed feature. It was that email. The one that gave me goosebumps because I had done this to someone’s life. This…

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That blog wasn’t representative of what I normally write. But it reminded me why I do. The emails, messages, comments and love that poured in were each a reminder of why I started this blog. And I know for a fact that I’ll never forget again.

It was almost the happiest week of my life. Almost.

I was at work, just another day of life, when my phone rang. I knew what was coming. But sometimes, it’s better to not let your heart believe until it happens. And so the moment it came, I broke. With joy I’d never known before. One that made me run to the closest room and sob like a child. Because, so many people in this world continue to live life without one shot at chasing their dreams and I’d just gotten my second.

The moment my dad said, “It’s done. You’re going back.”

I could live to be 100 and never forget how grateful I’d felt in that moment. Grateful for the opportunity. Grateful for another chance. Grateful for a father that never gave up. Because I did. And if he had too, I wouldn’t have the ability to now tell you – After having to quit university half way, struggling through depression, battling suicidal thoughts, watching everyone I’d grown up with graduate, trying to be okay when my sister got closer to her degree – I AM BACK AT UNIVERSITY, FINISHING WHAT I BEGAN.

I am crying when I write this because nothing I ever say will do justice to the feeling that rises within me when I think about it. And I’ll say it a thousand times over – It wouldn’t have been possible without my father. And if we didn’t live in a very dysfunctional family, I’d probably hug him ‘thank you’ everyday of my life.

My classmates, unlike my last ones during degree year, are not rude. They are very nice people. We have fun. We all like cute cat pictures. And besides when criticising my apparently unreadable handwriting (jokes), there is never a dull moment.  But going back and absorbing so much information after a long break is quite difficult. I’m no longer a straight A student. But that’s okay. I know I’ll get there.

And to think, I’d given up on everything that had come back to me, better and happier.

I’ve gotten to know who I am this past year. I’ve had the ability to choose and I’ve made choices that were both logical and also, at times, emotional. Some of the choices were right and some weren’t quite. And I know the consequences of it all will come back to me next year. When every choice I make will define everything my future will be. Work, location, love. But I feel good about it. Because I’m waking up on the 1st day of 2017, exactly as who I am. No hiding, no pretending. Just me. With a smile on my face.

And I’m hoping it’s on yours too…

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Her First

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It’s been about ten months since I first saw her. Right after the floods, my father brought her into our lives. That tiny face that brings joy to me and makes my first question my love for him.

I woke up this morning to a post on Facebook. Kerala offers gold coins to the civic authorities that kill the maximum number of stray dogs. I had a moment of “WHAT?!”

I wasn’t as furious as I was confused. They claimed the reason was because the street dogs are biting too many people. I recalled a moment a stray dog would refuse to come near me. She was afraid. Someone from my world had hurt her before. But I waited. I fed her everyday. Now all I have to do is whistle, and she’ll come running to me, tail wagging, face happy. I imagined a world where if I’d just killed her instead of feeding her and adoring her with patience. It wasn’t one I could process because even if she hadn’t come around, I couldn’t ever do that to another living being.

That’s the key word. LIVING being. She’s not an old broken radio. She’s not a plastic bottle that’s no use anymore. She’s not rotten food you can’t eat for sure. She’s a LIVING being. Like you. Like me. When you’re hurt and upset, you yell at people, don’t you? If you say No, it’s a lie and we both know it. Tell me, should I kill you for shouting at me? “Because that’s just hurtful”?

Remember those fathers that get angry and spank their children once or more? Should we kill them?

When you do something annoying and your girlfriend playfully slaps you on your arm only to realise she’s stronger than she thinks she is? Should we kill her?

If hurting someone leads to our death, why can’t we kill everyone?

Oh I get it. It spreads rabies and diseases! Like your mother who developed fever and walked around the house knowing it might spread to you and the rest of the family. Sounds mean and rude, I know. But that’s how ridiculous it all sounds.

If each person adopts one stray dog, we wouldn’t have to kill them. Not just because there’d be none left but because maybe you’ll realise how no human being (Not even your own parent or child) can love you like that furry little thing can.

I came home for Diwali. I was forced on the floor and showered with love by my two babies. I’d been wondering if that ticket was worth it. Those five minutes ensured it was.

I read an article about two girls who nailed a dog to the wall and posted pictures about it on social media. Is this an achievement? “I KILLED SOMEONE” is not a thing of pride. It is a disgrace. It is offensive. It is shameful to the human race.

Anyone who tells you otherwise is either lying or needs help as much as you do.

I looked at her today. She doesn’t know it’s her first birthday. She was curled up with wide eyes staring at me. I couldn’t imagine someone hurting her. I couldn’t imagine someone willingly putting her through pain.

I would be on my bed 8,000 miles away and feel a movement. I’d have to remind myself it’s not them. It’s wind. And I’d wipe away a tear. My friends would tease me when I tell them how much I miss my dogs. They’d laugh about how I didn’t mention family members. But that’s the truth. That’s what unfiltered, undying love does to you. The kind you only receive from these four-legged, puppy eyed babies.

#StopAnd if you have the heart to hurt them knowing they’re in pain and hearing them cry..

I suggest not just checking into a mental asylum, but also request being chained because you’ve reached a new level of emotional and mental instability and may cause hurt to anyone at any moment based on whim without rationality.

Because animal cruelty is not a joke. It is not a show of courage. It is not a trend. It is not fashionable.

If you ever find yourself wanting to hurt an animal, find your local mental health specialist and get help!

#StopMurderingLivingBeings

Anger’s Comfort Zone

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I was on a long and emotional call with a friend who’d recently been verbally abused by his sibling in a moment of anger. We talked about the possible reasons and how they usually behave within and outside of family. All our observations led me to one big question – Are we willingly more rude to a family member than we are to a friend or a stranger?

I have always tolerated irritating behavior from a stranger and I always told myself it is due to the fear of appearing harsh or wanting to avoid a public scene. But what I never noticed – I am perfectly capable of creating a scene and saying harsh things to a family member at that same place, for the same reason. But why?

I turned to my facebook page to see what others believe is the reason and they came up with interesting reasons:

  • “Because we don’t feel the need to please our family.”
  • “We’re comfortable with our loved ones and it’s okay for our emotions to show.”
  • “Your family will not judge you for your anger.”

And finally, the answer that really made me think – “We know what our family members’ limits are and how they’ll react, wherein a stranger’s reaction to your rudeness might be more aggressive than you would expect.”

Does knowing one’s limits make it right to mistreat them?

Just because someone isn’t saying “Stop” does not mean it isn’t hurting them. And honestly, at times, we can cross the limit and not know it at all. What then?

Someone said, “But after the fight, I apologized. So it’s totally fine.” Is it?

“An apology means nothing if you don’t stop doing what you’re apologizing for.”

An apology does not take away how you made someone feel at that moment. It doesn’t take away the potential damage you could cause to a relationship. An apology, to a person who was emotionally pained with words, is only a temporary bandage. The scar will always remain.

I’m 24. I remember the hurtful words my mother said to me when I was 9. She apologized. I forgave her. But I can’t forget. Not even if I tried. Because people forget the good things you do. But the knives you struck in their hearts in the form of words, it sticks with them forever.

Anger you see on the news always begins from a place of comfort. When you think one person takes it, it grows.

So stop. Evaluate a situation before throwing a tantrum or screaming at your loved ones. Always put yourself in their shoes.

Just because they’re family doesn’t mean they don’t have emotions. Just because they’re not arguing does not mean they’re not hurting.

Watch your language. Breathe to 10 before you speak. Sure, we’ll all have our moments. But ask yourself, “Is this situation worth a lifetime of negative memories?”

It’s not good karma to help a stranger you see on the bus after you’ve yelled at someone at home. It’s only your day that gets better when you say, “Sorry.” Their day is ruined for good.

Remember – It’s not blood that binds a human to another. It’s the way you treat each other.

Be kind.

Especially to the ones who’ll forgive you when you’re not.

To The Ones Who Are Afraid

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I wanted to be a writer when I wrote the lamest poem I’ve ever known and held it up with pride. I wanted to be a writer when writing a letter I’ll never send to him brought me peace. I wanted to be a writer when I started a blog to shed light on my darkness. I wanted to be a writer before I even knew what it meant. I wanted to be a writer.

It was a late night phone call. He silently sobbed. “I hate my job you know? I can’t sit there anymore. But I have no choice.” It broke my heart.

“Why can’t you quit? Why can’t you go do what you want?”

“It’s not as easy as you believe it to be.”

How many times have you heard that? How many times have you said that? Chasing your dreams is not an easy task. Sometimes, it’s impossible. In my world, it’s exactly what it’s called – A dream.

I find myself laughing at such statements.

Tell me, what is easy?

Learning alphabets wasn’t easy. Learning multiplication wasn’t easy. Passing high school wasn’t easy. University wasn’t easy. Finding a job wasn’t easy. Dealing with your nightmare of a boss wasn’t easy. Marriage. Children. Grandchildren. Old age. Sickness. What is easy?

I’ve woken up in the morning unsure if we’d have something to eat. That wasn’t easy. I’ve studied for an exam while dealing with family drama. That wasn’t easy. I’ve limped my way to classes after my first foot injury. That definitely wasn’t easy.

Nothing in this world that is constantly at each other’s necks is ever easy.

But if there was something that could make those days better, worthier, would you do it?

Because I’ve been where you are. In that moment where it’s all about a choice. There is the road that’s been taken and proven. And then that road nobody knows of. The one you hear stories about. “Her daughter’s friend took the road not taken. She is now a drug addict on seventh street,” or “His son is now homeless at central station because that’s where the road not taken leaves you.”

It is everything your heart desires. It is everything they don’t want for you.

It is everything I hope you’ll choose.

I have to warn you, it’s not all bed of roses. The roads your heart leads you to are filled with thorns. Ones that hurt. Ones that make you bleed. Ones that will make you want to give up.

So is the path he took.

Because nothing in this complicated universe is ever easy. Every path you take has darkness in it. It has chaos. It has drama.

No, it won’t be easy at all.

But that moment when you wake up, knowing in your heart, that in a day filled with things that are meant to drag you down, you are about to go chase the dream they all told you you couldn’t – it will be worth it.

 

quotes-talent-courage-erica-jong-480x480Yes, they’ll tell you differently. “Not everyone who tries makes it. What if you spend the rest of your life living on granola bars and four roommates?”

Tell them, with your head held high and a look of pride, “At least I’ll wake up happy.”

I woke up in the morning, smiling. A sense of satisfaction with no achievements. It wasn’t the world they’d dreamt for me. It wasn’t a world they wanted for me. But it is mine. It was what I chose. It was a dark path that brought me here. But it is mine.

I live with my parents still. No time for a love life. No money for a social one.

But I wanted to be a writer. And so I am. Happily.

 

 

To You, Thank You

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You. Yes, you. The one with dimples so cute, I knew I was a goner before it even began.

You. The one who made me laugh silly on dark days, I could feel my heart swoon all over again.

You. The one whose voice turned my world upside down. The one who made me realize I’d never felt this way before. The one who had me fall in love like I didn’t know was possible.

Thank you.

Thank you for constantly keeping me on the edge.

I was the girl you wanted to talk to. But never those three words.

I was the girl you wanted to kiss. But not the one you wanted to hold.

I was the girl you drunk dialled at midnight. And the girl you pretended to not know when the sun shined.

Thank You.

Thank you for not nodding your head when I cried my heart out.

You see, it would have been so easy. If you’d said yes. Your life would have been easy. Because I would have done everything I could to make sure it was. I would have stood by you during your pitfalls. Your tears  made me cry. Your laughter brought me joy. You were the centre of my universe. You always would have been.

And I would have been so lost in my love for you that I would have never noticed. I would have never noticed that anger you often can’t control. I would have never noticed the way you knowingly speak hurtful words. I would have never noticed that opinion you had of me when I wasn’t around. I would have never noticed the way I’d given it all up for nothing in return.

And when I did, it would have been worse.

Thank you.

I know you don’t get it. You think this is a hate letter. You think I’m sore and angry. But here’s what you never noticed about me.

I’m not that girl.

I don’t spread rumors about the boy who broke my heart. I don’t make snarky remarks just because he does. I don’t bitch about the one I love.

And I will always love.

It won’t be as overpowering as it once was. I’ll move on. With someone who makes me smile by just existing. And I’ll live a life filled with love and chaos with him. But ten years from now, if you decide to make me your one phone call, I swear I’ll come bail you out.

Because, contrary to what you so strongly believe, love isn’t an on and off switch. You don’t just fall out of love and go on like those emotions never existed. It’s always there. In the bottom of your heart. Buried under a lot of hurt and broken pieces. And I have learnt to live with that. I have learnt to dust off those extra shards of glass and pull my chin up. I have learnt to wipe my tears and make myself smile. I have learnt to love but know when to hold back. And I learnt all that without you. I learnt all that because of you.

And that’s exactly why I deserve better.

So Thank You.

For letting me have the ability to find someone who’ll love me for me. For giving me the time and the space to know who I was in your eyes. For forcing me into knowing how to take care of myself when everything within me is falling apart.

You.

I promise, someday, when I’m sitting on a patio surrounded by my grandkids, I’ll tell them about the guy who showed me what love feels like. And I’ll have a small smile as I remember the first time I found myself wanting to lose myself to that voice. To that laughter. To you.

And that’s who you’ll always be. A far away memory. Because sitting with me and correcting me as I spoke about our story will be the man I once longed for you to be.

Hence, my love,

Thank you.

For not saying “I love you too.”

#Equalism

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I recently got into a heated argument with a friend when I mentioned that I wasn’t a feminist. I told her that the concept of feminism is so twisted today, people have forgotten the real meaning of what it really was. That I stand for something bigger and more important than just feminism. That if I’m going to fight, I’m going to fight once and I’m going to fight for everyone. I’m not doing this one step at a time. I’m sick of fighting one battle after another. I’d rather fight it all together. I’d rather win it all at once.

She didn’t understand what I was talking about.

I’ve been whistled at. I’ve gotten paid less than the boy who worked half as much as I did at an event. I’ve been groped inappropriately on public transport and been told to ignore it because, “Girls need to have shame.” I’ve been limited with choices because I was born a female. I was told to wear loose clothes that covered it all because I am a woman. My opinions have been ignored. My comments have been undervalued. Everything I am has always been less important because I am not a man.

But when the world stands up to talk about Gender Equality, I find myself unable to relate.

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Do you see what’s missing in that quote? Do you see where the world is going wrong with the words “Gender Equality”?

We’re missing an entire gender!

The first time I understood the harsh reality of how the world treated the third gender was in an elevator in a foreign country. A transgender man walked in and wasn’t treated differently. People didn’t take one step away from him. And I was awestruck. That shouldn’t be abnormal but it was. That an elevator full of people were immune to the fact that he was ‘different’ was something so surreal. It showed me how we alienated them everyday. And that’s not Gender Equality.

I saw a transgender woman on a reality tv show say, “If someone calls me ‘Sister,’ I feel like my day has been made. Like they have accepted my gender. I’m only human.” Isn’t that the most basic human courtesy to accept the other person’s core identity? Yet, to her, that would be considered a blessing. Is that Gender Equality?

Do you know how long it took the government to accept the third gender?

Do you know the world’s biggest social media platform, Facebook, only has the option of “Female” and “Male” when signing up?

That if I’m whistled at, they’re called names?

That if my time isn’t valued, their life isn’t valued?

No. I’m not saying their struggle is more important than mine. I’m not taking away the seriousness from mistreatment of women. I’m simply bringing to your attention that there’s someone else who’s going through worse. And if I’m going to use the word Gender Equality, then I will include every human being in it.

The girl whose dreams weren’t as important as her brother’s. The transgender man whose identity was suppressed with fear. The woman whose life was spent serving one after another. The transgender woman who couldn’t get into university because of her gender.

I don’t care how much hatred I get in the comments.I don’t care how my own friends will stand against me for not calling myself a feminist.

Because the truth is, I am not a feminist.

I am an equalist.

I believe in equalism. I believe in human equality. Across all genders.

If I have to stand up for someone, I’m going to stand up for everyone.

Equal opportunities.

Equal choices.

Equal respect.

Equal pay.

Not just for me. Not just for my gender. For everyone.

Because equality is not just a topic of conversation. It is a problem. And I am done fighting them one gender at a time.

#equalism

“Gender equality is not a women’s issue.

It is a human issue. It affects us all.”

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“I ______ You”

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If I were to ask you what the three most powerful words in this universe are, you will probably answer “I Love You.”

And I would disagree.

I Love You – They make any relationship special. They make any moment so important. They make you feel on top of the world.

I Love You – What if I told you there’s something better? That there’s something more important?

I recently stumbled upon the wedding video of Colleen and Joshua. For a very long time, I thought I was the only person who believed in those words. Who knew how they made every other sentence in this entire galaxy seem so irrelevant. And then I heard Joshua’s wedding vows.

Because..

Love. He can love you and still not be with you.

Love. She will love you and still marry him.

Love. They love you but still won’t want you.

Love. It’s not the most powerful word.

Love. It’s not enough.

They still have to Choose you.

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On your worst day, when you’re stuck with the flu and your loved one has to be elsewhere, it is not love that keeps them by your side. It is the choice that you are more important than anyone else. Because there isn’t a sentence in this world that will matter as much as – I Choose You.

I Choose You. In sickness and in health.

I Choose You. For better or for worse.

I Choose You. Since the day you were born until forever.

I Choose You. Despite your flaws and your shortcomings.

I Choose You. You’re not my best friend, you’re my sister.

I Choose You. You were a parent when we had none.

I Choose You. No matter what the world comes up with.

I Choose You. Despite the rest of the human population.

I Choose You. Even if she’s better.

I Choose You. Today. Tomorrow.

For the rest of my life,

I will always choose you.

Choice.

It’s everything.

 

To The Girl In Her Mid-20’s

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Photography – Ravi Roshan

 

You’ve spent so many years looking forward to this phase of your life. And it always looked so cool. So glamorous. So filled with love and laughter.

Yet here you are. With knowledge that it’s anything but.

It’s messy buns and messier lives. It’s baggy shirts and overflowing laundry bags. It’s a lot of work and never enough money. It’s freedom with responsibilities. And life is no longer what it seemed.

Different people are doing different things.

Your best friend’s getting married. Your old classmate is killing it with success. Your ex is happy in love. Your old mate is drowning in drugs. Different people are doing different things. But not you. You’re just existing. You’re getting through everyday a little better than the last. But then you have days where you can’t get up at all.

You spend your Friday evenings holed up in a corner because you’re too responsible to drink your night away. Too control freakish to lose yourself to someone else’s tunes. But somehow, this isn’t enough. This life you’re living doesn’t feel complete. Loneliness wraps around you like a blanket you love and you wonder where you went wrong. Why you became different to everyone else.

“Did I do too much too soon? Did I not do enough? Was there a reason why it was never me? Is this going to be the rest of my life? Alone? Unsuccessful? Filled with dreams that never come true?”

And your hands reach out to your phone. One text. One call. To that someone who might make you feel pretty. Who might make you feel important. And your need takes over.

The need to feel accepted. To feel appreciated. To feel adored. To feel loved.

And it is so strong, you forget your sanity for a few minutes of flattery. You lessen your worth for dishonest words. The hurt in your heart, camouflaged. If only for a few seconds.

But it’s never enough. And when you wake up, it’s worse. The hammering of your heart so loud in your ears. A memory of last night frustratingly haunting. Yet another mistake. Yet again.

You scream hateful words to yourself. When will I ever learn? You go over those messages. Those conversations. How you fell right back into a ditch when you knew better. Just for a moment, you wish you weren’t yourself.

And in that moment, read these words:

Breathe. It’s not so bad. You think I don’t understand. But I do. Because I’m there, too. I’ve made that call. I’ve texted that wrong person. I’ve woken up with regrets. I still do. I’ve felt the need to be held. I’ve felt that silent green monster towards a friend in love.
Yes, we all make those mistakes. And we all think nobody else does. But they do.

So please, don’t hate yourself. And don’t stop. Don’t stop loving with all you have. Don’t stop wishing on every shooting star. Don’t stop dreaming of fairytales and being as amazing as Malala Yousafzai. You might not always get there, but don’t stop.

You have so much left to do. You have a world filled with life waiting to happen. You have books to be read. Steps to be taken. Places to see. People to meet. You haven’t lived half your life yet. There’s so much ahead. And in ten years, when you look back, you’ll wish you were here again.

So don’t waste it wallowing in your own sadness. Don’t lose yourself to your self-pity and non-existent boundaries. Use everyday. And I don’t mean spend thousands of dollars and visit the North Pole. I know how you’re struggling to make ends meet.

Do the simple things. Stop procrastinating. Take a walk with nature. Go to the gym. Read your favorite book for the millionth time. Watch a movie. Write your novel. Sketch until you’re better than the best. Eat like you’re dying tomorrow. And most importantly, make mistakes. Your heart will heal. But today will never be back again. Don’t live with “Could-have-been’s.” Take chances.

And ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS remember – It’s okay to be alone.

There is time to let your life revolve around someone else. But today, let it revolve around you.

Not because you can’t find someone. Not because you can’t be loved.

But because you deserve to wake up with a smile. You deserve to live life. To make memories so wild, you’ll be the coolest grandparent they’ve ever known.

Breathe. It’s only your mid-20’s.

You’re going to be alright.