'I' Give Myself A Story

Dear me,

I give myself a story today. The story that gave shape to the belief I hold on to today, that thought of not getting familiar to the concept of adjust. The story that has beckoned me to not accept the world as it is, rather set my own rules and ways to live my life and explore what I want, what I desire.

It has been a story that has encouraged me to create a whole new version of a story for myself and refused to become that puppet defined by the so-called society as "Ideal".

The story that turned me from a naive and confused girl into a daring human and strongly opinionated woman who can stand against all wrongs now and be brave enough to take the leash of her life into her own hands rather being controlled or dominated by any fucking creature in this world.

A story of my presence on this earth for more than what, like nineteen years now. Oh Yes! I'm an adult now. But did you miss something, surprise surprise! I'm an adult and a 'Woman'.

Startled? Not yet because what does it change right? Well then wait for it, it's coming right your way through this story because it does change an entire perspective of the society, for all of us the moment a 'Female' comes into the picture.

I was born into a middle-class family in a village of Bihar. Well it’s a blessing for heaven's sake that atleast I was brought into this world and I say this because we live in a society where even the birth of a female child is under threat as killing in its most brutal form as 'Female Infanticide' and 'Female Foeticide' is deeply rooted in India.

I was loved and was being brought up normally like a kid would be, with an abundance of affection, care and compassion until one day my brother came into existence.

I remember at the age of six when I was told that mother is going to bring my brother into life, my first question was that how do you know that it's going to be my brother? I was explained by a theory that there is already a girl in the house so a boy should only be born next.

This was the moment that a question took a toll on my mind, that why was the birth of a boy so necessary in all the families around me, while a girl being born was considered a mere chance ?

At the age of 8, I was started to being called 'bossy' because I started to top the class and became the monitor of the class. I was praised by my father saying that 'Tu toh mera beta hain' because I was bright and intelligent.

I always felt an urge to tell him that I'm his daughter, not a son because I'm a girl. One fine day I finally mustered up the courage and spoke, but was put into the state of complete dilemma. My father told me that as he believes that I will make him proud and would do something very incredible in my life that’s why he calls me his 'beta'. This was a confusing phase as I was still a girl and a daughter.

While growing up I started to realize that growing breasts was a definition of a girl entering womanhood. I was silly enough to wonder that my breasts were a threat to society.

It was a point of time in my life when I started getting sexualized by certain elements in the society. I was started to being told to stay far from boys, to not touch my breasts often otherwise it would grow more. It was considered a way to look out for me.

One evening I was sent to get some jewelry from one of my relative's shop, I was groped and touched by him in a manner that left me astounded for few seconds. In literal terms I was physically abused, when this incident was brought into light my mother was blamed for sending me out at an indecent hour at first place. It left me in a state of despair.

It was nothing unusual for me to see my father raise his hands on my mother, but it was that one gloomy night when I saw my mother begging for pardon, and trying not to make a scene, remained silent. I was petrified by sight of it and cried all night until my eyes were swollen the next morning.

I felt this powerless and weak for the first time because I couldn't stand against it or for that matter even do anything to stop it. I promised myself to not tolerate any of it and so I started to question.

Question, that why was it justified for my father to take out his frustration on my mother but my mother couldn’t raise her hands on him?

Why my mother was not appreciated much for her job as a homemaker while my father was? Why was it okay for my father to consume alcohol but it was considered immoral for my mother?

Why was it okay for my mother to give up on her dreams of being an artist just to start a family? Why was it unacceptable for my mother to have any sexual desires but my father could demand for 'Sex' at anytime? Why was it okay for my mother to kill her "Freedom"?

It's not that I couldn't settle down, but I didn't want to. I felt that burning desire to be on the run and find the answers I was looking for. I believed myself to be a thinker. I wanted to ask questions. What was in my heart started to matter more than what was considered to be the 'right thing' in my society.

I wanted to have a journey that I would decide upon my own conditions. Because I could handle it. The insult. Those drooling eyes. The pain. The tease. But I couldn't handle losing myself because of all of it.

I was desperate enough to make myself comfortable in my own skin because if I wouldn't love it then no one would. Well, this speaks a lot. There was a point in time I allowed to limit myself to define what was 'beautiful' and let myself feel insecure in my own body plus shame others. I didn't want to hide out of fear of being judged. It couldn't define me because I was more than the way I look.

I wanted the respect I deserve, and I wanted to demand for it rather than to sit back and accept to Adjust. Compromise. Sacrifice.

I decided not to be the 'fearless' daughter that was wanted inside the house but would rather shut the mouth of those who wanted to teach me what it meant to be " a real woman". I was willing to take chances and discover through my experiences to know what 'womanhood' means to me.

I'm greatful that I had a fairly difficult life with a few damaging factors. Although I'm regretful that it took me so many years to realize what mattered to me the most, what I wanted but fairly I'm not scared anymore to be vocal about it.

This doesn't mean that my life is perfect now or that I have reached some sort of stage where no one will criticize me. It doesn't make me the boldest or strongest but it was my story that gave me the courage to fight my demons and learn to live above them.

While I feel that I speak on behalf of a lot of you out there because many of you would relate to my story, but I need you to know that it isn't enough. Hiding behind my words won't liberate you, Speaking up might. Letting go of people that are dominating and toxic might. Voicing your opinion - and bracing your reality could.

Why and what are you so afraid of ? You need to ask yourself, Is it the fear of being judged, criticized or unloved?

No one is affected in any manner by the way you lead your life because no one gives a fuck to the journey that wasn't in your control. You should belong to the journey of your life. It's them that should be ashamed for judging you for being real to yourself.

For me, it wasn't easy and it's still is not, as I write this I'm not scared to admit that there are a lot of things and memories I'm not ready to share yet because it’s okay to accept that sometimes… you can be scared.

But I am not scared to fight for what I believe in.

And while I hope that my story helps you accept your own reality, I also know that you, and only you, can set yourself free from your own fears. I cease to be dictated by anyone else's terms, you should too... Believe you me, It's 'healthy'!

- Don't let anyone dull your Sparkle!