32 years of learning. Learning how to stay quiet (mostly). How to take little space. To always think before speaking....
INTROSPECTION
32 years of learning. Learning how to stay quiet (mostly). How to take little space. To always think before speaking. And to know how to weigh words. To gauge someone's response by their body language. To be hyper-vigilant of the surroundings. Of discovering things and learning things on my own. Because relying on someone meant it could get worse. I would be scolded. Or would be punished.
It has been three decades of learning every new skill on my own. Lighting a matchstick or riding a bike. To trust no one meant I couldn't get hurt. For the longest time there were no healthy relationships. Mistakes weren't allowed and there was no place to be my true self. I only had to be conditionally loved. Which meant if I behaved, scored well, kept my room clean, socialized, went to bed on time I could be loved. Otherwise there was just long hours of silence or swift reprimand.
I never knew my younger self could hold so much hurt and pain. Somehow between school bullies and never finding myself good enough at studies, I learnt to hide myself. If I could master the facade, if I could fake it, it meant I'm not insecure afraid or unworthy.
I was brave and smart and adequate and enough. I was worthy of love and acceptance.
Walking on eggshells through the years, I had no clue what it would mean later in life. That I would use all that negative reinforcement as a motto to never be left behind. I would find ways to study harder, secure the best grades, and have the best of everything, striving to have it all.
I would lose my sense of self. My true feelings would become surrogate, replaced by a make-believe persona—someone confident, worthy, and resilient. Someone who achieved top positions, won competitions, and raced ahead of everyone. Because now, no one can hurt me, scold me, or think I’m unworthy of love. No, I will be enough.
Or will I?
Years of people-pleasing, trying to ensure their needs were met and prioritizing their lives over mine brought me nothing in the end. I was at the top, but inside, I was empty, feeling like my only worth was tied to my accomplishments. Years later, my neglected inner child came out neglected, insecure, incapable of handling stress or relationships. Pushing myself so hard for so many years never prepared me for failures or setbacks. When life tested me, I crumbled. I couldn’t set boundaries, say no, or express what I wanted and why. I let people walk over me, take advantage of me, abuse me, and take me for granted. They thought, "She’s the easy one, the nice one, the disciplined one. She will never rebel. She’ll do as we say and always try to please the world."
But oh, little one, there’s no one in this world who can fulfill the impossible task you’re trying to achieve. No one can be perfect all the time. As humans, we are an amalgamation of flaws and mistakes. I wish, oh little one, you had known sooner that your worth isn’t defined by grades, status, or relationships. You are enough just as you are. You are worthy of love simply because you’re you.
You don’t have to trust the world, but you can trust yourself and your intuition. You can set healthy boundaries and say no. You don’t have to suffer abuse. You can walk away from people who don’t bring any good into your life. You can learn to be happy. You don’t always have to be in survival mode. You deserve happiness, more than anyone in this world.
Anyone who knows you is lucky to have you in their life. There’s no guilt in being yourself and doing what your heart desires. You can be self-aware about your past and your demons and still recover. You can take another chance at life. You can still want to live, even if all you’ve known so far is how to survive.
