THE DIARY OF A HOUSEWIFE

  You’ve been trying. You’ve been showing up. You’ve done everything right or at least, everything you knew to do. And still… You didn’t get picked. You didn’t get the job. You didn’t get the love, the break, the reward. Someone else did. And the worst part? They didn’t even try half as hard. It’s okay to admit that it hurts. That it stings. That you’re angry with the universe for handing out blessings like party favours and somehow skipping your name. Life, sometimes, doesn’t play fair. It gives the loud more visibility. The confident more credit. The well-connected more chances. But that’s not the end of your story. Because fairness was never promised. But growth , that’s still yours. Even in the silence. Even in the waiting. Even in the heartbreak. You may not be able to control what life gives you. But you control how you rise. Let the bitterness go. Let the disappointment breathe. And then… begin again. Because the truth is: You are not here just fo...

                                  You have been trying. You have been showing up. You have done everything right, or at least, everything you knew to do. And still… You didn’t get picked. You didn’t get the job. You didn’t get the love, the break, the reward. Someone else did. And the worst part? They didn’t even try half as hard. It’s okay to admit that it hurts. That it stings. That you’re angry with the universe for handing out blessings like party favours and somehow skipping your name. Life, sometimes, doesn’t play fair. It gives the loud more visibility. The confident more credit. The well-connected more chances. But that’s not the end of your story. Because fairness was never promised. But growth  that’s still yours. Even in the silence. Even in the waiting. Even in the heartbreak. You may not be able to control what life gives you. But you control how you rise. Let ...

                                                          “You don’t know what you’re doing. You need to do better.” It wasn’t just the words. It was the sharp tone, the way they were said — loud and mean. The sting of being called out like that. My heart pounded. My face burned. My mind spun with a hundred retorts I didn’t say. And inside? I crumbled. For days, I replayed that moment in my head. Overanalysed every word, every look, every tiny detail. Why did they say that? Did I really mess up? Was I not good enough? And the more I thought about it, the worse I felt. Then, it hit me. It wasn’t their words that hurt me. It was my reaction to them. Viktor Frankl once said, “Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms — to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances.” That day, I didn’t just lo...

                                                       There’s this joke I love: A man prayed to God every single day to win the lottery. “Please, God, let me win. I need this. Just once, let me win the lottery!” Months passed, and he prayed with the same dedication. Finally, God had enough and appeared before the man. “Look,” God said, “I can help you win the lottery. Of course I can. But bro… you’ve got to buy a ticket first!” Funny, right? But also, painfully true. Manifesting your dreams is just like that. Wishing, hoping, praying—it’s powerful. It sets your intentions, gives you focus, and fills you with positivity. But here’s the kicker: manifestation isn’t magic. You have to take the first step. You have to buy the ticket.                   ...

  Someone cuts you off in traffic. A colleague makes a snide remark. A stranger on social media decides to “educate” you on your own expertise. A friend doesn't bother to respond to your messages. It’s so tempting to react, to lash out, to let the frustration take over. I’ve learned (and am still learning) that the pause between someone’s provocation and my response is where my strength lies. That pause isn’t just silence—it’s choice. It’s both humbling and empowering to realise that while we can’t control others’ words or actions, we do have control over how we respond. But let’s be honest—it’s easier said than done. So, what do I do when I feel provoked, I write. It helps me untangle my emotions, understand why I felt triggered, and respond in a way that helps me be who I want to be, not who someone else wants me to become in that moment.                           ...