Life is so meta.
We go through changes adjusting to the life we live each moment.
It is funny how a life lived until now can be reduced to this poem.
There are so many untold stories and relationships, but you can see them.
Set the scene for a story about life that is so meta.

When I was a child, I was the “weird kid.”
The “old soul,” “you’re mature for your age,” and “you’re so creative.”
In hindsight, this seems endearing; however, as a child,
And the words “weird” or “different” follow the “compliments.”
Turned confidence into assessment and assessment into
an existential crisis as a teenager.

Teenagers live in an existential crisis naturally, as their brains are developed
just right for trouble and risks. Mix a dash of trauma, some anxiety, and depression.
Then, the cherry on top is the “compliments.”
I refused to fit in because it wasn’t my truth.
I left this place and moved to a place where I knew no one.

Not only do I move once to northeast Florida, but I also move across the country.
I learn the value of natural beauty, acceptance, support, community, and responsibility.
Through meeting new people and finding community, I solidified more of myself,
But I have never changed the weirdness I once took as a backhanded compliment.
And I made it my superpower.

I moved back home, where I am weird, an old soul, and creative.
Integrating these parts led to seeing how meta life can be.
The physical and the mental always come back to itself as
Opportunities to learn more about yourself and decide
Where you are going on this new timeline.

This superpower strengthened through new relationships,
Marriage, the stress of undergrad, and graduate school.
Three dogs, two cats, and a bearded dragon later
I stand in my truth of weirdness and use it to serve others.

I use this superpower of difference as a beacon of light
For those who haven’t had their chance to relate and
Feel validated as the old soul, creative, and weird kid.
Teaching others the difference is not a deficit and
How meta life can be.

Learning about myself and others
Has led to the enlightenment of self-love and validation.
Life is still hard, and I don’t care for days when my
Pocket gets caught on the doorknob,
But now,
I laugh and move on from life’s silly instances.
When life gets even more complicated-
I know it feels familiar, and remember not to
Let how meta life can be affect the way I feel
About myself.

I wish I could send a letter,
to myself in the past.
I’d tell myself to let them go,
those women just won’t last.
My heart was set on nonsense,
I had no want to stay.
But I am so thankful,
that it didn’t stay that way.
Eventually I found the one,
that my heart calls home.
But I wasted so much time,
with women on my phone.
I guess they were each a lesson,
when I look in the mirror.
Each failed attempt at love,
made the right path more clear.
Well then, I guess I’d tell myself,
to stay away from drugs.
I got so caught up in meth,
I forgot who I was.
But if I’d never done the drugs,
I would never have moved away.
And if that’d never happened,
I wouldn’t be here today.
Moving down here,
is how I met my wife.
So I guess in a way,
the drugs gave me life.
Ok, maybe I’d tell the old me,
to stay away from those guys.
The ones that sell me drugs,
and the ones that tell me lies.
But years down the road,
some of those guys do great.
A few of them even,
had a hand in my escape.
Every loss I’ve had,
has led me to a win.
So I wouldn’t be where I am,
if it wasn’t for where I’ve been.
I guess I won’t send this letter,
I’ll let God make the plan.
I know I fell down a lot,
but I became a good man.

In the garden of my late twenties,
Where dreams weave through realities,
I stand, a creator, a learner, a leader,
Crafting my path with the hands of a dreamer.

Each day a canvas, my career the brush,
Dipped in the hues of knowledge, a quiet hush.
With every stroke, I grow, I thrive,
In this dance of creativity, I feel alive.

Challenges rise like mountains steep,
Yet within me, a resolve so deep.
To climb, to conquer, to reach new heights,
Finding strength in the toughest of fights.

Impact is the echo of my silent roar,
Touching lives, opening a new door.
In this chapter, a rebranding so bold,
A story of transformation, waiting to be told.

As twenty-eight whispers of time well spent,
I gaze toward thirty with pure intent.
A decade looming with promises anew,
A journey of becoming, a perspective true.

In this blossoming, I find my grace,
A higher self in time and space.
Strong, unswayed by the external din,
Rooted in self, a radiance from within.

With every heartbeat, I fall deeper in love,
With the person I am, the skies above.
Pride swells like a tide, vast and wide,
In who I’ve become, I take immense pride.

You looked so fragile.
In my imagination
you lied broken on a hospital bed
filled with charcoal
to keep your pulse from fading

how ironic you said
when you could speak again.
how your nickname was “charcoal”
and that was what they used to save you
from all those pills you took

the pills you took when you decided
that a death by your own trembling hand
was better than the prison that your parents
kept you inside, waiting for you to become
who they wanted

you’d swallowed your sadness for so long
letting your liver be poisoned
in little pills as they told you you weren’t enough
and carved lines into your soul
as they showed their love was conditional

I wonder how many pills it took
to overwhelm your tiny body
and leave you lying on the floor
calling for help as you felt yourself fade, even
desperate enough to go to your parents

I wonder if your parents still thought
in that horrible moment, that you were still
a freak like they always treated you.
I wonder if they, for even a moment
realized that it was their fault

“I’m sorry”; a text you’d sent at 3am.
We didn’t know what had happened
didn’t even know if you were alive
for a whole horrible day,
black on my calendar; burnt in my memory

we had called to see if you were okay
and were met with your parents crying,
screaming that it was our fault
for changing you and poisoning your mind
like you’d poisoned your liver

but we thought we were what kept you going
every time your parents called you
evil, and wrong, for being who you are.
Trying to kill the you they didn’t like
until you tried to kill you

I imagined so many things the days it all happened:
a fight that proceeded you running to your room,
a feeling of aloneness and like tomorrow wouldn’t come.
So you texted…
when none of us, your charcoal, were awake

There was no room for peace.
In the chaos that she called life.
Then she set back and took a deep breath.
In the deep breath of life she realized.
The windows overlooked the golden hour.
The laugh of the kids in her life eased all struggles.
She photographs every chance she gets.
The music sets the tone of her story.
The writing tells the story, if you focus.
To the one who broke the shell five years ago.
To the one who came into my world three years ago.
To the few that finally showed her unconditional love.
When the breath was over all of this came to mind.
She may not be healed.
She may not have everything she wants.
Most importantly when she thought there was no peace.
She finally found part of hers.

I was getting ready for work. It was a cold December morning in 2017. It must have been a usual Monday morning for my neighbors. I could not say that with certainty, as I did not know who they were. It was not the usual Monday for me. With my mom in the kitchen and dad in the living room, the morning sun reminded me that today is different.

My parents and I had arrived the day before. Delta decided to have a ‘day date’ with our luggage, so we had to wait for another day to get those. It was my long-time dream to have my parents over and show them around this country. I was supposed to be beaming with joy. Except, I was not.

As I got ready to leave, my mom asked me to stay for breakfast. She made hot and fresh ‘idli’, a south Indian delicacy. My relationship with food had changed in the past few weeks. There was a sense of guilt. No, I am not talking about the type of guilt, that I usually carry, for not trying to keep that fat away. This was different. This felt heavier. Every meal since September 25th, reminded me that I am somehow selfish, to eat. To survive.

I got the car out of garage with the windows open to get some fresh air, my morning routine. Despite the chill wind and the grey clouds, I love going to work in December. Less people, i.e., less number of people asking ‘Hey, how are you’ 4 times a day, less “how was your weekend”s because I could never get used to answering that question every Monday morning. Sometimes even on Tuesdays. Yet, this mid-December Monday was not something I was prepared for.

I took the same highway. Same sign boards. Same exits. Same cars around, ok, maybe different, but you get the idea. But I felt different after getting used to 2 months of Indian traffic. Yes, it has been 2 months since I turned up at work. Everyone in my floor, knew very well, that I was out. That I had gone back to India and had not come back for the next 2 months. They picked up from where I left, the very same day I left. They had to. Because I had to.

As I parked the car and started walking across the parking lot, I felt a rising sense of panic. A sense of discomfort. To be accurate, can you imagine how it felt – to get on that stage for the first time? To experience flying in an aircraft for the first time? To be in the same room with your parents and your in-laws for the first time, sorry, every single time? A sense of entering unknown. A mixed feeling of fear and anxiety.

The last time I swiped my badge there was 2 months ago. It was a Monday too. The next day, I was gone to India. Usually, our vacations are planned. This was our first unplanned one. And this was also the first time I took a vacation for 2 months. What was different, among many others, is that my manager asked me to take as much time as I needed. That does not happen very often, does it?

Lost in thoughts, I reached my desk. There was a ‘Welcome back’ note from my team. I was not ready to be back. But the questions I kept asking was that would I ever be ready to be back? Back to being my old self? Back to the time when my family was complete? My manager came running to see me. I wanted to hide myself. Like a turtle going into its shell. Slowly, without anyone noticing. Her desk was right next to me, darn, she came too fast. No time for the lazy turtle to react.

She gave me a big bear hug and said, “I cannot event imagine what you must be going through. I am here if you need anything ”. She handled 40% of my workload so I could get some time with my family, so I will not be stressed. I felt warm. After 2 months of being in the love and compassion of friends and family, it was hard for me to leave and come back to this new place. I had no friends. Friends who could relate to me. Friends who knew my language or my culture. Friends, with whom I could share.

As the day progressed, several people stopped by and welcomed me back. So many of them offered to help and made sure I felt at home. After what felt like the longest day at work, I started packing my bag. Just when I was about to leave, I noticed the picture on my desk. A small frame, the size of a match box, that carried a picture of my brother and I. He gifted this to me when I left India in January to come here. When I met him for the last time, in Mumbai airport. The next time, I saw him, on September 25th, he wasn’t breathing.
As the sun set that evening and I looked at that picture of my brother, healing from his loss felt impossible. I went back to my car and cried for I cannot even remember how long.

That was where my story began. And then many sunsets have gone by.
On a windy cold day that winter, I made my mom wear jeans for the first time in her life. Sun set that evening and I cried.
On another snowy day, I made my father dance in that pretty white snow for the first time in his life. Sun set that evening and I cried.
On a ‘supposed-to be’ impossible but ‘totally possible in Minnesota’ type of cold day in May, my American manager moved a critical meeting by a day so I can spend that extra night with my family on a cabin. Sunset that evening too and I cried less this time.
On a different sunny day, my friend’s mom from Mexico who I met for the first time, made dinner for me. She and I never spoke a word that we both mutually understood. Sun set a bit later that night and I cried, maybe a bit lesser.
On a bright June morning, my parents left back to India. As sun set that night, it was clear that life will never stop for anyone. Anyone. I cried lesser again.
On a chilly fall afternoon, I met my Minnesotan therapist. She listened endlessly and spoke to me like she grew up with me. I wanted to cry every single time I came out of her office. But it became harder to cry. I don’t know if it was healing or running out of tear supply.
On a random day, our not so close Indian acquaintances invited us for dinner and became family-like very soon. Sun set that night too, I again had tears on my eyes. But this time, it was out of laughing non-stop for a silly joke.

Time will help heal, many told me. I don’t know about that. But, HUMANS around me did. This place, these people, with whom I thought I had no connection, welcomed me with wide open arms and proved me that grief does not need language to be understood and love does not need color to be shared.

As I narrate this story today, I am still not sure if I have healed fully. But I am HOME and hence, there is HOPE!

Hey! The hurt little girl and the brave woman inside me!
I tried to suppress one of you for the other for a long time and refused to acknowledge your strengths and weaknesses.
But enough is enough!
Let’s turn the page, and in this chapter, both of you are celebrated.
I see you and have abundant space in my heart for both of you.

Hello! My beautiful smile and my big fat arms!
To hide my shame-filled fat arms, loose belly, or big thighs, I also hid my smile.
But enough is enough!
Let’s turn the page, and in this chapter, all of you are visible and equally beautiful.
I smile at all of you and am here to flaunt you.

Wake up! My bold, confident self and the self with very low self-esteem!
I thought both of you could not coexist, and I got lost in search of who I really was.
But enough is enough!
Let’s turn the page, and in this chapter, both of you can come alive.
I respect you and am here to show up for my purpose with both of you by my side.

Hola! My suppressed feminine self and my wounded masculine self!
When I learned to survive in this patriarchal world, I missed understanding both of you.
But enough is enough!
Let’s turn the page, and in this chapter, both of you can be safely expressed.
I love you, and I allow you to express both the magical and the wounded parts of you.

Aloha! My angry self and my most kind self!
You are often misunderstood by others, and I haven’t been able to fully accept the complexity of your existence in me.
But enough is enough!
Let’s turn the page, and in this chapter, I validate both of you – You are both beautiful!
Thank you for your fierceness, and I am here to create a sacred space for both of you.

Ciao! My deepest fears and my bravest self!
Why do I keep seeking protection from a man outside? Maybe because I have never really identified myself with my brave self?
But enough is enough!
Let’s turn the page, and in this chapter, I seek refuge in both of you.
I seek your wisdom and am proud to learn from both of you.

Hi! My sweetest heart and my brilliant brain,
I understand why the poets always put you against each other, and I have cursed you both many times, too.
But enough is enough!
Let’s turn the page, and in this chapter, I realize how much you both help me stay human.
I am grateful to you and here to listen to both of you.

Oh, my dear wounded selves!
I was so focused on trying to dissect and analyze all parts of you that
I got lost in the duality.
I denied space for parts of you because of shame or guilt,
And fit you into good and mostly bad,
All for the need to be loved by beings outside of me.

Oh, my dear, healthy selves!
I forgot to proudly embrace parts of you because, as a woman, I was confused about which parts of my existence are my best as defined by me vs. society.
I constantly disbelieved when anyone appreciated me because I gave away my power to those few trusted loved ones around me and let them define me.
You have shown up for me throughout my life, and we have achieved so much together,
Yet, I have not shown up enough for you all, and I sincerely feel sorry for how much I hurt you.
All for the need to be loved by beings outside of me.

But enough is enough!
Let’s turn the page from outside to inside, and in this new chapter,
I welcome all parts of me to exist, come alive, interact, and play with me.
I promise to stop searching for the container outside, to hold the whole and broken pieces of me.
I promise to come home to myself and realize that I have been the container all along.
In this new chapter, I am ready to fill my container with the gold elixir called self-love.
In this new chapter, I am here to gather the bare broken bones of me and lay it all out next to each other.
In this new chapter, I learn the art of Kintsugi and glue the broken, scattered parts of me with what is left of my raw self.
In this much-awaited chapter of my life, I am most excited to become one whole, perfectly imperfect self.

With love, me.

Greetings to you! Walk with me as I reflect on one of my greatest experiences…
In 2018 I auditioned for a nation-wide talent search. Hosted by “A premier modeling agency and talent expo that discovers, develops, and launches top talent.” There are multiple categories: modeling, acting, dancing and singing. I auditioned for singing and acting (tv commercial). I was chosen top 10 out of roughly 100 participants. The next 6-8 months were composed of raising money to attend the out of state event, building self-confidence, and facing any fears I had about being a star in my own right. Mind you, I did not do my research (ALWAYS DO YOUR RESEARCH) on the company prior to the audition. I was under the impression that this was primarily a model call. A talent search on a smaller scale. Once I really gained an understanding of what was in front of me, I shifted from a small and confined kind of mindset, into a mindset of immediate expansion in every facet of my life. This was instantaneous! Massive amounts of positive and prosperous possibilities began to make larger what I was already envisioning. The stage has called to me for as long as I can remember. Performance and entertainment have been a part of my journey since the age of 6. This experience, however, made it real! I was no longer merely doing what I love, I was officially stretching the muscle and making an impact on a consistent basis. This was confirmation of my PURPOSE! The overall investment cost was about $3,500. This is relevant because at that time I didn’t have it like that and for someone who struggled to ask for help, this was no small task. That following spring, I made it to the expo. There were all kinds of contestants at this large event. From different cultures, locations and upbringings. The thing that I enjoyed the most about this experience is that no one carried negative energy! We were all there with the same goal, to shine, learn and gain an understanding of what it truly takes to be great in this industry. Also learning that it’s important to be highly confident in our personal strides fore it’s the foundation for whatever we set out to accomplish that is bigger than us. For some, this was their opportunity to showcase the hard work they’ve put into every day of their lives! The blood, sweat, tears, and the don’t call us we’ll call you. For others, it was a wakeup call to go farther and do more. I transparently fell somewhere in the middle. Attending workshops with some of the best actors/actresses, agencies and modeling coaches in the business showed me how being in the right place, at the right time, having the right conversations, with the right attitude, can propel your life into the most aligned direction for the best outcome. You’ve got to have heart to put yourself out there! By the end of the weekend, we all had clarity on what we were made of, what level of potential we had and how to make seamless connections for ourselves. By the time I made it home, I had a whole new fire burning in my spirit for my goals and aspirations. Trusting my faith, trusting my journey, led me to an experience that truly changed my life for the better!

The other day I told someone about you
what you left for me
what you left of me
their wet stone tone replied: I’m so sorry
and like a sprout through concrete
so instinct and automatically
I told them: don’t be.
I’m not.
Because
there are no words
for gifts this big
what you taught me
what you brought me
in our innocence like daisies
how your sacrifice had saved me
better than Christ himself
anyone can say
my lover
anyone can say
my partner
anyone can say
heartache
and break
and suffer.
But for me—I know it’s real.
Far beyond what children feel.
We learned what
passion was,
what freedom was,
what making love was
as if we were human
and nothing else
as if being human
was enough
and when you stopped
being human
the world didn’t notice
night fell
dawn broke
and how I tantrumed in contortions
in rebellion of this earth
to be so brash
betraying me
to keep turning, turning, turn.
And I learned that living takes effort
even just to breathe
and eat
and move
and speak
I wished my ribs would splinter
wished the cars would halt their noise
and every morning
I would touch myself
and pray I’d hear your voice
and the sensation
of forgetting
the way you sound and smell
was a wicked type of torture
—it’s own dynasty of hell.
You’re just as incomparable
as the pain you left behind
and how living was unbearable
and yet, somehow, I survived.
I couldn’t follow you
for the honor of our love
for the wittiness to the horrors
and all the pain that I had felt—
I needed it.
It’s my evidence, my proof.
I was a runner—not a warrior.
A deserter—not a soldier.
Yet, I learned trust
and kindness
bravery beyond—
birthed in ashes of despair
I bloomed into something else.
And that something is so pure
even moreso than our love.
Patient. Understanding.
I am gentle and I’m strong.
I am wise and I am generous.
All the things I didn’t have to be
until you were gone and out.
Wish you could see me now.
And what your death had brought me—
is so much more profound
than anybody’s life
and I know it’s strange to say,
but I’m not angry at you anymore.
I’m glad you got away.
Because I always have you,
and I’m more beautiful like this.
Overcoming losing you—
the most amazing thing I did.
And I don’t need your voice, or scent,
to remember how to love
out of all we learned together;
being human is enough.

What I love about myself in this chapter of my life is that I am finally learning how to let go. Let go of the past, not entirely but mostly, let go of things I cannot control, and let the pieces fall as they may. I have always cared too much and too deeply and tried too hard to make sure everyone was happy losing myself along the way. I will speak up and stop being polite because it’s the right thing to do. You need to know when it’s the right thing to do and its not the right thing to do if you are being devalued or disrespected! So, in this chapter of my life book, I am finally alive!

You had your grip around my throat
You hoped it would make me choke
Instead, I fought back to breathe
And now you are nothing more than a sleaze who no longer has control over me