Parallel Me

The day I posted my last blog about Earth's twin, I couldn't stop wondering – if Earth had a twin, what is my twin self doing right now? Is she having coffee, painting by the window, or maybe playing with her cats? I imagine her life unfolding just a little differently, shaped by choices I didn't make. It's strange to think that somewhere, in another universe, another version of me might be living the life I sometimes daydream about.

Like parallel lines maybe parallel me and this 'me' have a lot in common or perhaps a lot of differences? I wonder if she pets every dog she sees on the street too. Does she stop mid-walk just to say hello to them, like I do? Is she just as obsessed with Harry Potter - does she still rewatch the movies when life feels too much? Does she laugh at herself when trying to imitate Joey's ''How you doin'?'' even though it never sounds quite right? Maybe she has more friends, or perhaps she's finally opened that cozy little embroidery shop I daydream about during long classes.

I imagine she's the type to still write blogs late at night, pouring her heart out just to feel lighter. She probably still has funny yet thoughtful gift ideas - like the coaster, I wanted to paint after someone called ''ঠান্ডা পানি'' ''ঠানডি পানি.'' I bet she's doing well in university too, maybe even holding onto a VC’s award or two. I picture her juggling work, life, and dreams, but somehow with a little more ease.

In that universe, maybe she's already grown into the version of me I hope to be - fit, confident, and at peace with herself. I like to think she's watching over me, smiling when I take small steps forward and whispering ''You've got this'' when I stumble. Maybe she's just as proud of me as I am of her.

I close my eyes and let the thought drift in - what if I could step into that other universe, even just for a moment? I imagine the air feels slightly different, softer somehow as if the whole place breathes in a quieter rhythm. The colors around me aren't strange but glow just enough to feel unfamiliar.

And then I see her – me, but not quite. The moment I saw her, I knew. She's sitting at a cafe, sipping coffee, sketching in a notebook I don't own. Her hair falls a little differently, and there's something light in her expression as if she's figured out something I haven't yet. I wonder if she notices me too. Would she know right away who I am? Or would she tilt her head, curious but not certain, trying to place the familiarity between us? This version of me carried something I couldn't quite place. Confidence? Peace? Maybe both. I wondered how her life unfolded compared to mine. Did she make the choices I hesitated on? Did she let go of fears I still hold close? I wanted to know if her dreams looked like mine and if the things that kept me awake at night ever bothered her at all. 

I imagine walking up to her - this parallel version of me. She looks up, tilts her head, and smiles like she's been expecting me.

''So, do you pet every dog on the street too?'' I ask, sliding into the seat across from her.

She laughs. ''Of course. I thought that was a universal rule.''

I smirk. ''And Harry Potter movie marathons? Please tell me that’s still a thing.''

''Obviously. You think I'm going to skip my annual watch?''

I lean back in my chair, watching her. ''Be honest. Do you ever try Joey's 'How you doin'?' just to see if it works?''

She grins. ''You know I do. And no, it doesn’t work any better in this universe.''

We both laugh, the kind of laugh that feels like home.

''But… have you opened the embroidery shop yet?'' I ask, trying to hide the hope in my voice.

Her smile softens. ''Yeah, I did. It's small, but it's mine. People seem to like it.''

I can't help but grin. ''And friends? Do you have more of them?''

''Enough. But I still keep my circle close. You know how we are.''

We sit quietly for a moment, watching the world go by. I wonder if she struggles the same way I do – if she gets anxious over things that don't matter, or stays up too late chasing thoughts she'll forget by morning.

''Do you ever feel lost?'' I finally ask.

She pauses, then looks at me with something soft in her eyes. ''Sometimes. But I think that’s how I find things that matter.'' 

After a while, she stretches, finishing the last sip of her coffee. ''I should probably head out,'' she says with a soft smile. ''There's a dog down the street that hasn't gotten his ear scratched yet.''

I laugh, knowing I'd do the same. ''Figures. Well… it was nice meeting you.''

She stands, tucking her sketchbook under her arm. ''You'll be fine, you know. You' re already doing better than you think.''

And just like that, she walks away, blending into the crowd as if she was never really there.

I blink, finding myself back at my desk, the glow of my laptop screen pulling me back to this world. The cafe fades, but the warmth of that conversation lingers - like a quiet reminder that maybe, somewhere in another universe, I’m already living the life I dream about.

I guess I'm the biggest paradox I've ever known. I'm insecure in everything I do, yet I love myself to the point of total narcissist. So while I am living through this life, I live it with a smile. Because in the parallel universes, I live a different life and hope she is happy. And maybe,  I can hold onto that thought when things feel heavy now. Somewhere, in some version of reality, there's a me who's already overcome this. She's watching with pride and joy, knowing I'll find my way too.

For now, though, I'm here - and that feels just fine.

If Earth Had a Twin: A Day in Another Universe

 I often wonder what would happen if Earth ever had a twin,  —like reversed seasons, a different color sky. Imagine a world much like ours, but with a few gentle changes. Where feelings speak louder than words, and people truly listen to each other. Staying outside until sunrise isn’t a crime; it’s a way to celebrate life. The sky turns soft shades of green and gold as the day ends, and the stars slowly peek through. Seasons flow in reverse—warm autumns come first, while spring brings a fresh start just as winter fades. People move through time without rushing, filling their days with art, kindness, and a deep respect for every living thing.

What if, in another universe, people could feel each other’s emotions as soft colors glowing around them? Imagine walking through a place where kindness shines like a warm yellow light, and calm moments are a gentle blue. What if the trees here could whisper old stories, their roots carrying voices from the past? In this world, rivers would sparkle at sunset, showing quiet memories beneath the surface. And when people feel truly happy, they might lift just a bit off the ground, letting joy carry them. Here, magic isn’t rare; it’s part of everyday life, connecting people in ways that make every moment feel a little more special.

I always wanted to know what the other universe would hold for me. What if good things lasted longer there? What if giving someone letters to say 'I love you' in another universe would be the only way? What if  I get flowers every time I'm sad. What if there's a cherry blossom tree in my backyard? I grow old with the tree I want to see. What if me and my high school friends are still having lunch together. What if in another universe, everyone feels happier, my friends are kinder and my mother is still there, exactly the same. what if in another universe, home feels like home?

If I could visit another universe for a day, I’d step into a world where magic is as real as breathing. I’d start by noticing little things—a soft hum in the air, like an old spell, or trees that seem to whisper secrets only the wind can understand. I’d meet people who look a bit familiar but feel different—like wizards who know the secrets of potions. I’d walk down paths that might shift and move, like the staircases at Hogwarts, and pass rivers that, like the Upside Down, reflect things both beautiful and strange. I’d listen for songs drifting through the air—melodies only those who believe in magic can hear, each note carrying a piece of the universe’s heart.

Maybe I’d find myself at a place like Central Perk, stepping into that familiar coffee house where Ross, Monica, Chandler, Rachel, Phoebe, and Joey are waiting for me. The aroma of coffee is almost visible—like clouds of brown cotton candy. I’d settle into the iconic orange couch, feeling like I’ve known them forever, laughing at Chandler’s sarcasm, listening to Phoebe’s quirky songs, and sharing in the warmth of their friendship as if I’d always been part of the group. Maybe, in this universe, moments move a little slower, like a scene paused between sips of coffee and shared stories. We’d talk about life, love, and the strange feeling of being exactly where I belong, even if just for a day. As I take it all in—the warmth, the laughter, the endless cups of coffee—I hold onto the magic of that place, carrying back a piece of this universe where friendship feels timeless, and the aroma of coffee reminds me that, somewhere, I’ll always have a seat at the table. As the day ended, I’d hold onto these moments, keeping a piece of that magic with me, a reminder that somewhere, another world lives on in my heart.

I want another universe to exist because it feels like a place where the impossible can be real, where things that don’t quite fit in our world can finally belong. In another universe, there might be colors we can’t see here, emotions that can be felt deeply without saying a word, and connections that go beyond time or space. Maybe in that universe, people understand each other better, and life flows without the rush that often holds us back. I imagine a place where even the smallest things carry wonder, where nature and people are more in tune, and where a quiet kind of magic fills the everyday moments. Another universe would be a reminder that there’s always more to discover and that beauty, kindness, and hope can take countless forms we’ve yet to see. I wonder if, somewhere in another universe, things have already found their way. Maybe just for a moment, or maybe for a song’s length, there’s a peace there that I could hold onto. I hope that over there, things turned out right—that worries faded, and the future unfolded in ways I’ve dreamed of and feared all at once. Perhaps, in that universe, life is a little lighter, a little kinder, and everything falls into place just the way it was meant to.

This is so embarrassing. I want to love & be loved & drink really nice tea & eat really nice pasta & not feel like the loneliness is a part of me anymore.  I want a herb garden. Little Miss is obsessed with these but doesn't believe it will happen to her. So, sometimes, I find myself wishing that another universe is out there, where another version of me is living the life she’s always dreamed of.

Imaginary Friends

Have you ever wondered why so many children have imaginary friends? These invisible companions often seem to understand us better than anyone else, providing comfort, courage, and advice. As I reflect on this event, a thought occurred to me: What if these imaginary friends were not just creations of our imagination but representations of our hidden selves? The more sensible, braver, and wiser parts of us that we instinctively turn to for guidance.

As children, we created these friends to navigate the complexities of growing up, seeking solace in their company when the world felt overwhelming. But perhaps, in reality, we were tapping into an inner strength, a part of ourselves that we could not yet fully understand or articulate. This hidden self, masked as an imaginary friend, was there to support us, encourage us, and help us make sense of the world. Has everyone had e imaginary friend when they were kids?

As kids, when we felt sad and went outside to play with our imaginary friends, we were actually spending time with our happier selves. Those playful moments were a glimpse into the joy that our hidden selves held within. Similarly, when we sought validation from others, wanting them to recognize our abilities, it was our inner selves whispering words of encouragement. Deep down, they know us better than anyone else, understanding every part of our being.

Imagine a rainy day, and a child stands outside, captivated by the gentle sound of raindrops. They spot a puddle nearby and their eyes light up with joy at the idea of playing in the water. However, a brief worry crosses their mind—will Mom get upset if they get wet and muddy? Despite their strong desire to jump into the puddle, they hesitate, turning to their imaginary friend for advice. In reality, they're consulting their inner wisdom, torn between what they want and what their parents expect. Childhood often means having few options; even if the imaginary friend encourages them to jump, some rules may stop them.

As we get older, when everything feels tough, we often find our inner selves becoming our best buddies. We lean on them for comfort, strength, and happiness. Remember when we were kids and couldn't splash in puddles because of our parents' rules? Now, even if we can, we might miss those old rules. It's like our inner selves grow up with us and sometimes crave the safety and guidance we used to get from our parents.

I remember when I was the kind of girl who cried over little things that bothered me. But as I got older, I transformed into someone who laughs and talks a lot, appearing much happier. That little girl who once struggled to find joy now smiles brightly whenever she sees dogs on her way home. It's like my inner self grew alongside me, showing me how to find happiness in the simple things.

When I was a kid, I adored chocolates more than anything else in the world. Whether Mom went out alone or took me along, I'd always beg for chocolates. But as I grew older, I stopped craving them as much. Even if I had the money, I wouldn't buy them like I used to. Back then, just a small chocolate bar could make me the happiest little girl. Maybe it changed because of all the things that went wrong. I started feeling like I was to blame for everything going off-track like I didn't deserve chocolates anymore.

During my journey of healing, my inner self became my closest companion. It was like having a best friend who was always there to comfort and encourage me. This inner voice reassured me that it's okay to make mistakes and learn from them. Whenever I achieved something, like getting good grades on a test or doing something kind, I'd hear a voice inside saying, "I'm proud of you."

As we grow up, we find ourselves with more freedom than we ever had as kids. When we need comfort or advice, we turn to our imaginary friends or our inner selves before seeking help from others. It's like having a buddy who's always on our side, ready to support us no matter what. We create these imaginary friends because we know they'll agree with us, listen to us, and follow us wherever we go. Later, when we're out in the real world and feeling lost or overwhelmed, it's this friend who helps us find our way back home. because deep down we know where we belong.

Remember those rules we used to hate as kids? We wanted to break free from them, but looking back, they actually helped shape the soul of our inner selves, the ones we once called our imaginary friends. It's like having two sides to ourselves: one is the reckless, adventurous one, and the other is the wiser, kinder one. 

As I journey through life, I discover something remarkable: my imaginary friend was actually my other self all along. That person I confided in, the one who offered me advice and comfort, was a part of me I didn't fully understand.

My life becomes a story of two selves becoming the best of friends. I realized that the imaginary friend I considered close to me was actually my other self—the sensible, braver one.

In moments of uncertainty, I turn to this inner self for guidance, finding solace in its wisdom and strength. This hidden companion, once considered separate from me, becomes my most trusted confidant.

So, the next time I feel lost or overwhelmed, I remember that my imaginary friend is not just a figment of my imagination. It's a reflection of the deep connection I have with myself. I embrace this friendship, for the greatest friend I'll ever have is the one within me.

 If you have come this far, I want to tell you, talk to yourself. You know more than you know. Your best friend is probably hidden inside of you.

Revival of the Familiarity

Have you ever noticed how certain things from your past reappear in your life unexpectedly, whether it's an old hobby, a favorite book, or even a relationship, often in a different form or through new experiences? Reflecting on my journey, I realize that these recurring passions and interests have significantly influenced who I am today.  I've always heard that certain things have a way of finding their way back to you, even after being lost for a significant amount of time. Perhaps it's simply the nature of time.

As a child, I spent countless hours painting, immersed in vibrant colors and creative freedom. However, as I grew older, life took over, and my paintbrushes were replaced by textbooks and career goals. Years later, during the chaotic times of the COVID-19 pandemic in 2020, I felt drawn back to painting, rediscovering the joy and peace it once brought me.

My taste in music has also evolved over the years. In my teenage years, I was a punk rock fan, but by my twenties, I had shifted to enjoying the smooth sounds of jazz. One evening, I found an old playlist and began singing along to the punk songs that once defined my youth. It felt like reconnecting with a part of my past, linking who I was then with who I am now.

Growing up, I was always afraid of being found out. I wasn't sure what I was hiding—perhaps my whole self. Later, I realized that the more I tried to hide, the more visible I became to others. It was both annoying and comforting, like there was someone who needed me, even if I didn't understand why at the time. This experience taught me that sometimes, what we try to conceal the most ends up being the most apparent, and it often returns to us in unexpected ways, shaping our journey in profound ways.

Most of our childhood memories aren't stored in photos but in sensory experiences—certain biscuits, the light of different times of day, familiar smells, and the textures of carpet. If I had a time machine when I was younger, I would probably visit my older self. I would see myself and wonder if I still love chocolates more than life itself or if I still cry over the slightest arguments. I would probably also wonder if I'm still terrified of animals. I used to be terrified of animals, but now I love them dearly. The tables have turned; I can't imagine my life without them. It's like I've been around pets for so long that I can't remember what life was like without them.

As I grow older, I've come to realize that some things are just not the same anymore. Places that once felt like home could no longer contain my ambition. While I still have love for certain people, I've learned that not everyone wants the same things as I do. I've come to understand that I don't have to shrink myself to fit into places I have outgrown. Life is not meant to be lived in one area; it's about embracing change and growth, even if it means moving beyond familiar surroundings.

I still crave lemonade, but the taste doesn't satisfy me as much as it used to. Similarly, I still long for summer, but sometimes it's the summer of five years ago that I miss. We revisit old feelings for the same reason we re-read books—there's comfort in familiar words, even though we know the endings. Over time, our preferences shift, yet certain things remain constant. For instance, I still love lemonade, but now it's the kind from a small shop outside my university. It reminds me of the time when my mother used to make lemonade for me to take to school. And though my love for summer remains, it's now intertwined with memories of enjoying ice cream with my friends.

As I said, some things come back. Love, for instance; may not be in the same form, not in the same person, but it does come back. At the end of the day, love is never wasted. Loving and caring are never mistakes because love is infinite. I won't run out of love by pursuing what inspires me to risk my heart or by investing in people and things that open me up. Love always returns, though it may come back in a different form, through different people, or in the time I spend engaging with the world. It always does. The concept of 'home' was different for me when I was little. At that time, the home was where I lived, slept, and ate. Now, it's just another person.

There's a special kind of connection where a person becomes someone's home. It's not about a physical space but about finding comfort and belonging in someone's presence. They are the warmth that wraps around you, the refuge from the world's chaos. In their eyes, one can see acceptance, and in their arms, find peace. With them, you are anchored, safe, and truly at home, no matter where you are—just like the same old feeling I used to get when I returned home from school.

My mother and my first pet, Lussu, shared a unique bond. Lussu would only eat when my mother was at home, showing a preference for her over anyone else. The depth of affection in Lussu's gaze towards my mother often made me wonder what it would be like to receive such profound love from such a small creature. Over time, I no longer need to wonder about this question. Kiko-Kai now loves me with the same intensity. When I look into their eyes, I witness the same unwavering love that Lussu had for my mother three years ago. It feels as though this love has returned, presenting itself in a different yet wonderfully familiar form.

As a child, I found comfort in writing in my diary, pouring out my thoughts, fears, and dreams onto its pages. However, as life became busier during my sixth standard, I drifted away from this practice. Years later, I rediscovered the joy of expression through writing, this time in the form of blogs. Although the medium and language have shifted—my childhood diary entries were in Bengali—the essence remains the same. Through my blogs, I continue to explore my innermost thoughts and emotions, although in a new platform and language. It's evidence of the timeless nature of self-expression and the evolution of personal tales across different stages of life.

As I reflect on these memories, I'm reminded of how life comes full circle. Just like old hobbies and interests return, so do the feelings and bonds that shape us. Whether we're revisiting the past or embracing the present, our journey is a mix of nostalgia and growth. To anyone reading this, I hope these words bring comfort. I hope I've made things a little easier for someone.

IT'S THE SMALL MOMENTS

 Another year comes to an end. As I'm wrapping up this year I am realizing so many beautiful moments I have experienced this year. Sometimes I realize I won't remember these things in 50 years like how I used to be scared of certain things or how beautiful the sky looked this morning, my mom's voice, and it makes me a little sad as I never want to forget those.

 This year, every now and then I did some things that little me would've loved. And I love it when I hear that little me giggle. I fell in love with animals and of course humans. But I'm glad that I did when I did. I often used to think that in another universe maybe my childhood memories are sweets and cotton candy; I wouldn't be good at running away; I could face the world bare and brave. Maybe in another universe, I wouldn't have bloomed in all the wrong ways. From childhood, I had never believed in permanence, and yet I longed for it. I remember thinking that the only way to be loved was if I reinvented myself to be desirable. As it turns out, the person whose love I was seeking in the first place was myself, and the most desirable version of myself I could think of was a happy person. Deciding to work on that made me realize that the small things make life worth living.

I listened to so many songs this year. Mostly through the people I cherish. To me, songs are kind of like bookmarks. When I listen to a song that I haven't heard in a while, all of a sudden, all the memories of that time come back, and I remember what my life used to be like and what my life is at the moment. 

I read books. I didn't know I could enjoy reading books. Took my favorite subject as my major and I'm LOVING it.

It feels good when I realize I'm a better version of myself at the moment than I was before. Sometimes I yearn to meet all the versions of me that existed in the past. It's wild that every version of me probably exists still somewhere in someone's memory. The messy me crying on the floor exists still. The happy, sun-soaked me, exists in my best friend's memory. No part of me has died, all parts of us exist always, simultaneously & hidden. For me, that is the most beautiful realization that every version of me is still alive; someone remembers me by it. It makes the current me giggle.

The other day I was thinking, I'm going to die in the universe someone loved me in. It hurts a little though. A few days later, I was on my way home. I saw two old best friends clicking selfies, laughing together. I could actually imagine my best friend and me doing this someday. Then I comprehended that maybe dying in a universe where I was loved is not something to be sad about but rather something to feel relief. Because even if I die, someone will always keep me alive in this universe with their memories of me.

 I miss my mom's cooking a lot. She knew what I loved to eat, and it's like she shared that with everyone. Recently, I went to a friend's place, and her mom made all my favorite foods. I'm thankful for people who try to make up for my mom's absence. It means a lot to me.

 As I pen down these thoughts, reminiscing about the waning moments of the year, I can't help but acknowledge the journey I've been on. It's been a mix of challenges, triumphs, and those unnoticed small moments that color life with meaning. 

 

Here's to my own wonderful conclusion to this year. Here's to raising a toast to the small moments that added depth and meaning to my year. 🥂✨

Cheers to Life

 The worst thing happened but the next day the sun still came up. I had made my tea and listened to my favorite song. Read quotes, and said good morning. And faced the day with a little bit of hope in my heart.

  We say little things but those little things have created our current best self. if we look back it's not those big decisions we took, it was the moments we lived.

 For a while, there was no track in life. I wasn't going anywhere. Felt stuck for a long time. I was looking for a path to hop on and to follow. But it took me a long time to realize I don't need to find a track to follow, I can create my very own path. And it has been so amazing creating my own track.

 Picked up the pen and started writing my own story where I'm the main character. Filling every page of my life journal with love, lessons, achievements, and zero regrets. Writing my life journal has been the most amazing feeling in the world. I would never trade this feeling for anything. It made me love my life a little bit more every day.

 5 years ago I was a mess. Still, I am a mess but at peace with it and with a cooler fashion sense. I've created a new version of myself. A me that celebrates small victories. A me that doesn't force things to work, doesn't push friendships and doesn't squeeze myself to fit in someone else's jigsaw puzzle. A me, that's grateful when things work out and okay when they don't. I've created a version of me that loves me.

 I did everything because every day seemed like it was raining and I always wanted to see the sun again. I did it for the days when I would laugh so hard my stomach would hurt. I did it because I wanted to believe that despite the messed up person that I am, despite all the scars and the holes in my chest, I deserve another shot at happiness.

 I know it took a while, but I couldn't be prouder.

 I finally came back into this version of myself where I am eager to do a lot of things without minding what others might think and say about them. I want to reach a bunch of stars. collect them one by one, no matter how high and far they are. no matter how impossible they are to touch. I am willing to climb heights just to have them. 

 If suffering first means holding the stars one day, I am willing to pass through them without any doubt. As I am always becoming unbecoming.

 A lot of things are ending and a lot of thongs are beginning. And everything is worth it. Because there's always something good coming.

 Cheers to everything.

Living My Life by Being a little kinder to Myself

 I am clumsy and clunky and often too loud. I could be a better friend I could be a better partner, I could be a better sibling. I am full of love in all my messiness and through all the abrasiveness too. I don't know.

 I keep trying to memorize every detail of the moments. Sometimes when I think of my childhood that is so far away and its ancient history, it was just yesterday. I am both an adult and I turned 5 years old yesterday. The past is the past but also the present and it chokes me with everything I do remember and everything that I don't know. I walk into the bathroom and I see a child staring back and she is crying. Sometimes I cry too.

 Listening to the same song I used to listen to when I was 12-13 years old is something else. It's like I'm still her, again nothing like her anymore. She knew everything, she knew nothing. She was so right, then again she was so wrong.

 I was not ready to go back to where I belonged; I fought my way back to where I wanted to be. I have learned what life was trying to teach me. It wasn't making me stronger; it was just making sure that I'm strong enough if anything happens. And guess what? I'm still alive. I've survived. Once I was on the verge of giving up. I wanted to die a hundred times a day. But I was still in love with the life. I still am. It's because of the people I love, the moments I share with them. It's like everything I do with them or simply their presence in my life inspires me every day to live. I survived to become this or maybe a better version of myself. I'm so thankful that I met every morning I didn't want to see and I'm grateful that my body carried me on the days I thought I couldn't get through.

 The thought of not having to wake up in the middle of the night just to cry; the sense of purpose, and knowing for sure that there's a place in this universe only meant for me. I long for that, I finally know in my heart and truly believe that good things are worth the chase. I realized that big joy and small joy are the same. This morning I was listening to my favorite song while having tea, and I realized I really don't care what Big Things are going to happen in the future as long as I can see the people I love, I can enjoy my tea while listening to my favorite song.

It's really comforting to know that all the times I was at my lowest in the past the whole time I had myself in the future and present who had survived those things looking back with love and tenderness and wishing desperately to offer comfort.

 

 Sometimes it hurts worse when losing someone stops hurting as much as it did before. It's like I'm moving on unwillingly because time keeps pushing me forward and I ache because I know that they're going to leave my heart and my memories soon and I won't be able to do anything. As long as I remember I'm trying to be okay with the fact that humans fade in and out of each others' lives. No matter how I think about it, I can't make it sound romantic or poetic. I'm so weary and spaced out all the time that I can't keep up small talk. The thing that scares me the most is that the people I love will be disappointed and I don't know what to do.

 

I can't remember growing up. I remember those moments when I felt happy, I felt alive. Like incredibly alive. The thing that makes me the most emotional in life is the realization that everything I have and everything I see has been touched by other people. Someone decided which paintings should go in the calendar hanging on my wall. Someone built the roof above my head and someone paved the street outside my house. Someone made this pair of glasses specifically for me, someone picked the mango I ate with my breakfast and someone designed my favorite sweater. Every book I read, every song I listen to, every film I watch, if not hundreds of people had to be there to make it happen. Even if I am alone, I am always surrounded by other human beings - a fact that makes my heart squeeze in on itself every time I remember it.

Today, my thoughts smiled back at me and I realized I like who I am becoming. Some days my self-talk is pretty good and some days it's total shit but it's becoming a lot more natural to be kind to myself.