Loud Whisperer

Despite having lived in college hostels and various cities, the fear of the unknown continues to haunt me. This fear, deeply rooted in my childhood, was nurtured by my helicopter parents. Even though we lived in different cities, their constant micromanagement cast a long shadow over my life. Today, I'm challenging that fear by venturing out alone to a trade fair. The usual worries were there: the health risks of air pollution, the fear of being exploited, the anxiety of navigating a new place. But there's also a deeper fear, a fear of being judged, of being seen as naïve or weak. It's a strange paradox. On one hand, I'm aware that these fears are often unfounded. Yet, they still manage to grip me, holding me back. It's as if my mind is playing a cruel trick on me, painting vivid scenarios of disaster. But I've decided to push through. I've realized that fear cannot be a barrier. It can only be a challenge to be overcome. By stepping out of my comfort zone, ...

Have you ever wished for a time machine? I do—more often than I care to admit. Sometimes, I imagine going back and telling my parents not to have a third child (aka me!). Not because I don’t love life, but because I wonder if they truly understood what it meant to meet the emotional needs of a hypersensitive kid. Someone who needed more than food, shelter, or clothing—someone who yearned for understanding, validation, and warm hugs. Now, I’m here, and it’s my turn to heal myself. To take responsibility for this life, even when my overactive mind tells me I can’t. Even when every fiber of my being screams that there’s nothing left for me to do or be. Today was my last therapy session. A milestone, but instead of relief, I felt lost. I sat there, unable to articulate my thoughts, dodging her questions. It felt like I had everything I needed to move forward—all the tools, all the steps—but I just couldn’t start. Why is starting so hard? Why am I scared and embarrassed to take even the...

I was that girl. The one who scored high marks, the one everyone thought was destined for success. I had big dreams, and I believed that if I just worked hard enough, I could achieve anything. But somewhere along the way, things didn’t turn out as I expected. Despite my best efforts, I found myself lost, with no clear purpose or direction. I was told that good grades were the ticket to success. So, I focused all my energy on my studies, pushing myself to the limits. I neglected everything else—my physical health, my emotional well-being, even my relationships. I thought I had to keep striving, to keep being the perfect student, the perfect daughter, the perfect person. But in the process, I lost sight of who I was. I tried to do more. I joined clubs, participated in sports, and attended art festivals. But no matter how hard I tried, I was always average or below average in everything else except memorizing things. I spent hours and hours memorizing facts, but I wasn’t really living. I ...