To begin with, I want to ask you something, my dear readers.
When someone dislikes you, what do you instantly think? Is it that the person doesn’t like you because you have a particular flaw? Or do you think there might be their own reason, something completely unrelated to you, and that is why they don’t like you?

If your answer is the first one… then my next question is this.

Why do we, in a matter of seconds, already know exactly which part of ourselves is to blame? Oh yes, I know I am not great at this. That is why they don’t like me.

Why do we always think that because of this particular flaw, we won’t be liked? Or that if we just fix this one thing, we will finally be desired, accepted, or chosen? Why are we so fixated on our flaws?

Especially for those who grew up feeling a little… too aware of ourselves. Too visible in the wrong moments. Too invisible when we wanted to be seen.

Since childhood I have noticed people who carry things that the world decided were worth making fun of. Someone who stutters. Someone who cannot pronounce certain words, might have slip of tongue. Someone with stage fear so deep it lives quietly inside them even when no one else can see it.

Believe me…. I was one of them.

In school, speaking up was rare for me. Having an opinion out loud felt almost impossible. While others raised their hands, I sat with mine folded, hoping no one would call on me.

And then I met the teachers who changed that.

They questioned me, pointed things out in front of the class, not to disrespect me, but to challenge me. To urge me to find a voice for myself. They helped me choose to build my confidence instead of questioning my silence. They gave me patience. A chance. And that chance became everything.

But what made it even more special was the people sitting beside me. My peers, not one of them laughed. Instead they said things like you can do it, go for it, take your time but say what you wish to say. I know that is not what happens everywhere. I know that is not the reality for most people. And I hold that as one of the most quietly beautiful things that ever happened to me.

But here is something I have learnt, and I hold onto it still.

Sometimes, it is mostly all in our heads. Maybe nobody is thinking about our flaws as much as we are. Maybe while we are shrinking in our heads, they are shrinking in theirs too.

I am not saying this is the only scenario. But it is one of them. And it is worth remembering more often than we do.

When I think about that little girl who was afraid to speak, and then I look at where I am now, writing her opinions openly and putting them out into the world, I feel something that is hard to describe. Pride, maybe. Gratitude, definitely. These thoughts still come. The self-doubt, the second-guessing, the old familiar voice that wonders if this is too much. But every day I choose to keep going anyway. And I think that is what choosing yourself actually looks like…not the absence of fear, but the decision to move despite it.

I did not get here alone. My childhood teachers, my friends, my parents, the support around me made more difference than they will ever fully know. A kind word here. A nudge there. Someone choosing to stand beside me instead of laugh.

So if you ever encounter someone who is struggling, someone who does not speak the way the world decided is correct, someone shrinking in a room full of people, give them a chance. Stand right beside them.

Your support, the thing you might shrug off as nothing, might be the thing that changes everything for them.

What feels small to you might be the biggest thing that ever happened to someone else.

A NOTE
Some of the things mentioned above, stuttering, difficulty pronouncing words, stage fear rooted in something deeper…can be present from birth. They are not flaws to be fixed or jokes to be made. They are simply part of how some people exist in the world. So rather than finding it funny, why not choose to be kind? It costs nothing. And it might mean everything.

Another day, another night, another week… and here I am with my blog.
How was Thanksgiving for you all?
Hopefully the cold weather was killed by the warm people around you.
And hopefully the same warmth shows up ahead, as we move into Christmas and the end of 2025.

You know what has been happening lately?
When I see someone’s real colours, I don’t get surprised anymore. It’s a strange feeling.

People disappoint you? Seen it.
People act nice because they need something? Been there.
You give your heart, and they act like it was nothing? Done that.
I don’t even get angry now. It’s more like… “Okay cool, noted.”

People Change Like Weather

I have watched people change as quickly as the weather.
I have heard promises made because it was easier to lie than to have a difficult conversation.
I have sat at tables that started as friendships and ended like I was dining with enemies.

You might say, “Oh, is that so?”
But trust me — nothing is new. Everyone has faced this in some form.

But the real plot twist happens when you start to see yourself.

I now trust my gut more than anyone’s words.
Call it overthinking, intuition, analytical skills, trauma response — pick your label.
But every time my stomach whispers, “This is going to end badly.” …it usually does.

A few weekends ago, I was on a late-night call with my best friend.
You know the ones — where your whole life story comes up after midnight,
and suddenly every “maybe” and “what if” wants attention.
She talked about her world, and I found myself saying,
“Yeah… same.” Seen it. Been there. Done that.

The Fitting-In Era

For a long time, I tried to fit into boxes.
Friendships, relationships…
That thought of:
“If I am less of myself, maybe they will accept me more.”
WRONG.
Spoiler:
That never works.
If you have to dim your light to stay in someone’s space, it’s not your space.

On this road of life — where I still am — I have made many mistakes.
Some childish, some knowingly, some expensive. I paid with time, peace, and money.

But when I look back now, I see how much healing those mistakes forced me into.
They were a learning curve — preparation for the storms I never knew were coming.

You don’t wake up wise one morning.
You get dragged, heartbroken, humiliated… and then you learn.

So you might be thinking,
“Okay, but what now?”

Here’s the answer:
Every disappointment teaches you something — if you are willing to listen.

People say I am guarded now, I don’t socialise much, I have boundaries too high, I don’t let everyone in.
They say “you have changed.” I call it self-preservation.

These aren’t excuses — they’re safety nets.
The brain remembers who hurt it.
Trauma responses? Maybe.
But they are also the first line of defence.

Whatever you have seen, wherever you have been, whatever you have already lived through —
don’t shrink because of it. Don’t go quiet on yourself.
Let your sparkle stay alive, even if it annoys a few people.

If you are reading this,
maybe this year broke you a bit.
Maybe people used you.
Maybe you tried your absolute best and got nothing in return.

Trust me — you are never alone in this journey.

But surviving, learning, and still becoming something? That’s the flex nobody can steal from you.

And if you have lived something like this,
tell me someday.
Not so I can fix it,
not so we can compare scars —
just so we both remember we are not the only messy humans figuring life out.

The year is closing soon.
Hopefully this cozy weather makes you feel warm and nice and prepares you to hit the gym 30 days from today.
Do one thing for yourself:
Stay strong enough to face tomorrow, and smart enough to remember yesterday.

So when someone says,
“You’re acting from past experience,”
you can reply:
“My analysis of life is on point. I am just a reader.”
Count your losses as lessons — and flaunt them next time.