For decades I have wondered why I am the way I am? And I am now at level 39 finally starting to figure things out about my oddly curious personality.
Here it goes. I grew up in a big family. Many of them with big and loving hearts. Sadly, all of those humans also suffered from fatal heart attacks. This was a family of extremely lovable and highly closed people. We could have lengthy conversations about anything and everything yet never even touch the topics that truly mattered. Like life and career choices, patriarchy, finances, mental health, and so on. It was easy to get lost amongst such humans. Many times, I felt my voice was curbed or even ignored. And honestly, I learned to live around the noise without much of an issue. Until I found my voice. Yet, I could never figure out ways to fight for myself or simply stand up for myself. This meant I ended up in situations and life scenarios that were less of a choice and more of a sacrifice.
Today, I am so much more than I ever imagined. I realized who I was and who I wanted to be beyond other people’s expectations. I stopped questioning Why me? And finally accepted that this is how it was always meant to be. I had to live through all of that to learn lessons I never knew existed. I finally accepted; no one was going to rescue me. I would have to be my own person. And that is the biggest lesson I can pass on to my daughters. I feel more in-sync with myself. As much as I hate my birthday, I love getting older and wiser. I can remain calm in challenging situations and know how to make my voice heard when needed. I am no longer loud but extremely clear. It feels like my voice finally found the right words. So here I am, a forever student in search of knowledge. To be able to communicate my curious and random thoughts.
I cried without noise,
because big girls don’t cry.
I fought wars without weapons
because obedience is a daughter’s duty.
I grew older without hope,
because darkest night is also the longest one.
I accepted without grace,
because ego and self-esteem are separated by a thin line.
Black Coffee and Grey Stories 
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