Confessions of a confused soul # 6 : Timid and tamed

By
Source: www.a2zlifestyle.com

All my life I have been very timid. Timid to break rules, timid to do something which is a big no, timid to lie, timed to cheat, timid to hurt... the list goes on. This sounds very contrary to the popular belief that I am a strong and a rebellious person. Strong yes I am when it comes to dealing with things, but when it comes to emotions I am someone who goes weak in the knees. I am called rebellious because I question a lot of beliefs for they fail my logic. I am very logic driven when it comes to most of the things and if according to me it sounds foolish I need to know why would I even consider doing it. 

I have left battles midway for I couldn't take it anymore. I didn't confront a wrong doer and give a piece of my mind for I felt it was futile. Coming from a family where being at war was a norm, peace was something I cherished the most. Perhaps that is the reason for my submissive and timid nature. But I guess three decades is too long a time to have lived a life like this. Of giving in, of letting go and of just walking away. For now I see the consequences I have managed to gather.

I get nightmares often now. Of the unsaid things, of those people who hurt me and I still chose to stay quiet, of those moments when it hurt me the worst and I still preferred to walk away rather than hurt back in return. Maybe I should have expressed my pain then, rather than trying to portray myself as a strong person who doesn't wish meddle with such things. Somewhere perhaps I made those people winners despite it not being true. I almost gifted them that victory rather than fighting for it.

Retrospectively it doesn't look as good as it felt that moment but there was only one thing that gave me solace. I slept peacefully at night. I can vouch for the fact that till date never ever have I hurt someone deliberately or tried to do something resulting in pain for them. I have always chosen to walk away when the pain for me got unbearable, just to save myself from more hurt. Analyzing it, perhaps it has got to something with my childhood yet again.

I was always called as someone who was argumentative because I would try to reason things. In an attempt to be loved, I kept on changing myself. I started giving in, stopped reasoning, almost never asked or demanded for anything,That fear of being labelled as arrogant, argumentative, boastful, egoistic, pompous, rebellious was so high that I stopped using my brain over anything.

For years it stayed locked inside, as I died a new death every day in my own hands and kept wondering why. Till one day I changed beyond recognition. I realized I was dying because I was just not being me, the people who had a problem with the then-me had a problem with me now too only the reasons changed. Now I feel is the time for me to change the sails and start sailing against the wind for the very thing that gave me a peaceful sleep not gives me sleepless nights as people from my past continue to haunt me.

~to be continued

Popular posts from this blog

Essay: How to mourn the loss of love?

By
Image
Image Source: Unsplash.com I remember the first time I mourned the loss of love was when I was eleven.  For me, dance was love at that time. I had discovered a strange joy as I glided in and out of those movements. Every time I swirled; I could feel my heart soar. Any beat that strained to reach my ears, tempted me to move my body to its tune. I just knew I was born to dance and that is the only thing I wanted to do, all my life.  I had my reasons to believe so and a very simple one at that. It made me happy. That was a reason enough. However, my father thought otherwise. Girls from good families, do not dance. That line was enough to break all those rosy dreams of dancing on a stage. The day my brother was sent to the same dance class which was not good for me, was the day I experienced heartbreak for the first time.  That is the day I mourned the loss of my first love- Dance. 
Keep reading »

Diary of a Lost Wanderer - Lost & Found

By
Image
Dear Diary, I fell in love with Mumbai when I first visited it in 1995. Bombay, as it was then known, fascinated me since then.  If you ask me what made me fall in love with this city, I perhaps cannot explain. It wasn't that I was seeing the sea for the first time. It wasn't even the biggest city I had been to till then. Still, there was something so magical about this place. The trip was a short one lasting less than a week but this city now had my heart. Years later, I arrived here all alone on my first solo trip in 2005 and fell in love all over again. I got my first job and was required to come to Mumbai frequently. The local trains, the chaos on the roads, the crowds, the humdrum, the salty smell in the air, the stale air- everything about this city was intoxicating for me. 
Keep reading »

Metro Diaries: The Art of Making Love

By
Image
Image Source: Unpexels (Cottonbro) “Do you know why is it called making love?” He whispered, pulling the comforter closer.  I don’t remember for how long we had been in that room, on that bed. Lying aimlessly, just feeling each other in silence. I managed to just whimper to denote my curiosity.   “Because that is the moment we create love. We are the closest we could ever be to love, in its purest form. It is sheer magic as we are naked, in every form. Mentally, physically and emotionally before that one person, we love. We know they can hurt us, as much as they want to, in the way they want to. But love gives us that power to trust them, that they won’t.”   “And here I was thinking it is a need. Something you want at that moment and you get it!” 
Keep reading »