I’ve never been good at writing about myself. That is one thing I really struggle with. In everyday life, you get asked to describe yourself. I always wonder how it is possible to define years of transformation in a few sentences.
I’ve come across people who have easily judged me and don’t even know the person I am. They’ve formed an opinion of me just because they know bits of pieces of the entire canvas I’ve painted for myself.
How easy is it to judge someone? Pretty much the easiest thing to do. All you have to do is form some random ideas about the person and be articulate about it.
My strategy in this situation today was to stay calm and remain silent. Don’t mistake it for tolerating the wrong. Silence, in this case, would mean not giving such issues any weight it demands and not reacting to it.
One of my teachers taught me that there is a difference between reacting and responding. I can never forget that lesson. I try to adopt it in my daily life.
Humans are guilty of judging their own species. It’s in our very nature. We take no effort in getting to know a person. What we see is what we believe. But what is real is beyond our ability to perceive.
So, next time you meet someone, don’t form an opinion based on few things you know about them. It’s never good to judge people when you know nothing about them. It’s never good to judge people even when you know everything about them. It’s never good to judge. Period.
It’s how you see yourself and who you see yourself as that counts more than any label attached to you.
Why have we defined beauty in a destructive way?
A little kid taught me something very important. Love yourself and value who you are because it doesn’t matter what others say. What you think about yourself matters. This truth, that I’ve known, has hit me hard when I saw it in reality.
We may not like the negative aspects of our personality (like jealousy) and we try to change it, which is understandable. What about aspect like looks? Why do we let someone else’s opinion of us bring us down?
Let me admit something. I’ve had those moments as a kid when I would wonder what makes me unlike others, why I don’t have the looks that would make me ‘normal’. Why? I don’t remember well. I think a huge part of me didn’t know and still doesn’t know how to figure out if someone has good looks and the other part of me used to judge myself. It’s a paradox! Like everything in life, time worked and I’ve realised I don’t get much affected by what others say unless it resonates with what I think about myself.
We don’t realise this, but everyone has their own set of insecurities. Some maybe conventionally beautiful and still judge themselves.
Being fair doesn’t make anyone lovely. Or handsome. Same goes for being dark. It’s how you perceive yourself and others that makes you beautiful.
Months back when I still had ileostomy (is it the first time I’m talking about this?) and I was underweight, I’d look in the mirror and like who I was seeing. I was proud of being that girl I saw. In the initial days, I couldn’t recognise myself because a lot looked too unnatural.
Weak, perplexed, and figuring out things in my head, I liked the person staring back at me. I saw something beyond explanation that made me realise it’s stupid to not love who you are.
I have scars. There is a reason why I have always been against getting rid of them. It’s really simple. My scars remind me of stories. They’re stories of not just how I got them, but also of everything that happened around that time. They tell me about the place, people, myself. They remind me that I had some people who held my hand when I needed to walk. They remind me of my own internal struggles. They remind me of places that have been hurtful. They don’t own me. I own them. My scars are my rewards. They remind me of everything I’ve learned because of them.
The reason I mentioned my scars is because we’re all so immersed in getting rid of them that we forget how valuable they are. They’re beautiful. We want to look so perfect that we forget how beautiful we are naturally.
Beauty isn’t about looks. It’s about how you feel.
Next time, when you look at yourself, make sure to see the beauty in you.
You are truly the most beautiful version of yourself.
Yeah, you read it right. Let’s be weak.
Most of us would be familiar with the fact that being strong is considered good. If you’re strong, you can handle anything. You have to be strong because that’s desirable. It’s a compliment.
Being weak, on the other hand, is undesirable. It almost sounds like a mocking remark or something that’s said to make you feel inferior. Being weak isn’t, in any way, considered right or acceptable.
Weakness is important. It really is. It’s a way of letting go of all that you’ve held for long. Weakness is an outlet of suppressed emotions. You have to let yourself be weak and emotional. How are you going to be strong if you don’t allow yourself to be weak?
Every person is a mix of both, but not everyone accepts being weak even to themselves. This is what is important; accepting it to yourself, accepting yourself.
The perception shaping weakness is so wrong. Weakness is an integral part of our being and we need to change the perception for our own good, for our mental health.
It’s okay if you can’t go on and if you want to cry, but don’t give up. Take your time being weak and crying and fearing and hurting because once that passes, you’re going to make through. No matter what, you are going to make through anything and everything. Weakness doesn’t mean giving up. It means being strong enough to accept and face your feelings as they are. It means being strong enough to break so that you can mend again.
Weakness is cathartic.