Are Any of My Thoughts My Own?

  

I am constantly trying to strike the perfect balance between consuming and creating. To create, importance exists in consuming as much art as possible because doing so teaches us about different cultures and views. I read so that I can write, I listen to music so that I can sing, and I stream podcasts and YouTube videos so that I can improve my own podcast. We pay attention to social media trends so that we can provide our own takes on them (whether we post them or not). All of this makes sense, but I fear that consuming so much at every second of every day has also turned us into zombies. We are encouraged to be unique and celebrate those who push societal boundaries, but we are ostracized when we share opinions or provide nuance that disconcerts mainstream opinions.

In the past, I have definitely fallen into the trap of believing and re-sharing the first tweet that I see on any given topic before researching it. It could’ve been celebrity gossip or political news, and my mind inherently thought that if someone were posting about it and it had tons of likes, then it must have been true. As I’ve grown older, I’ve learned to read comments, check news sources, and triple confirm anything that I see. A headline or an image, especially within character limits, often does not paint the full picture, and even expanding the post to the comment section or replies can already fill some of the gaps. People will often link their sources in these areas, and looking at these sources is essential to avoid spreading misinformation or fear mongering.

All of this could seem obvious to anyone with basic media literacy, but what scares me more is how little we question whether we actually enjoy what the internet tells us to enjoy, or how little we question the values and beliefs that news sources and people in power tout. We are taught to keep our heads in the sand while our personalities are manufactured for us.
In a world that is becoming more and more influenced by artificial intelligence and the algorithms that result from it, I cannot tell whether we are all just promoting things that we know will be approved by the masses rather than what we actually like. Are the influencers’ “must-have” items actually items that I must have? Is that $150 blanket really life-changing compared to the $20 one? Do I truly think that this artist’s new album is amazing or did I just see hundreds of tweets saying that it was? Does my opinion really align with Rolling Stone‘s or Pitchfork‘s or did they just tell me what mine should be?

This news outlet just posted about a tragic situation in another country, and since I was told that they were “progressive” and can assume that every one of their stances aligns with my beliefs, I can also assume that their reporting is accurate. Everything that I now know about said situation is based purely on this Instagram post that I shared to my story and sent to five other people. I’m suddenly an expert in another foreign affair; I have to be because I did not give myself any time to learn or research it. I believe that silence is violence, and I also think that we’ve been conditioned to be vocal about issues about which we do not know anything. Sharing the incorrect information is also violence, but one is critiqued more than the other.

If we do not prefer what everyone else prefers, we could be labeled as “pick me” or weird or problematic. If we only prefer what everyone else prefers, we could be labeled as basic, unoriginal, someone with zero personality. We should question what we see, but only to a certain extent, and most of the time, we don’t even know what that extent is until it’s too late.

20 somethings often write about how they’re discovering themselves and question their identities on a daily basis, and I am no exception. I do not think that this constant consumption of ideas and opinions can always help us find ourselves and the success in doing so probably depends on how secure we are already. Do we have the ability to discern between noise and critical thought? Is this even possible anymore?
In the past, many people have told me that I am an interesting person, but I worry that I do not have anything original to offer at this point. Anything I say or do could be authentic to me, but how do I know if it will read that way to anyone else?

Over the past several weeks, I have become more intentional about my time away from the screen or really any type of media. When I journal, I write about whatever comes to mind first, regardless of how it could sound to an outside person. I write down more of my likes and dislikes even if they are generally viewed as silly or unappealing. I feel confident in my social and political beliefs, and my integrity is very important to me, so I do not foresee myself ever backpedaling on those; I do want to continue to be critical of everything that I see online. I think a lot about every piece of content that I retweet or repost, and while this does require quite a chunk of emotional energy, in a world of disinformation, it is essential.

I want to trust that my thoughts are my own, but as a cog in this capitalist landscape, I do wonder how much of my being has been constructed for me by outside powers. How would it look for me to deconstruct myself and build myself again? Being the author of my own identity is surely worth a try.

27th Birthday Reflection.

    

(Birthday reflections is a series on my blog.)
(I apologize for using “bestie” unironically in this post.)

They say (do not ask me to specify the “they” in question) that the age of twenty seven marks the beginning of one’s Saturn return. This signifies Saturn returning to the same position in the sky as it was when we were born, though it could happen anytime in one’s late twenties (starting with the age of twenty seven). Regardless of its spiritual validity, I’d like to believe that this year of my life will open new doors and provide the clarity for which I have been searching over the past few years. I feel as though I keep losing myself and finding myself and losing myself again, and I’m ready for the tumult in my mind to stop.
I know that this time in my life could also come with new challenges, but I also know that I have the strength to overcome them. The idea of the Saturn return only entered my personal ether recently and this The Cut article (among other online musings) has provided more insight since then. In the spirit of this next, supposedly transformative chapter in my life, I would like to couple the idea of the Saturn return with the experiences and lessons that I learned over this past year.

I can hardly believe it, but I am embarking on my fifth year of living in the great and complex city of Boston. I am so used to living here now that I almost feel a reverse culture shock when I visit my home state of Minnesota. I still have mixed feelings about this city, but I’ve found my footing and can confidently say that I know how to navigate the highs and lows here. I will say that I am very excited to see what this next year in Boston holds as I am now living, for the first time, with my partner! My boyfriend, Ben, and I moved into a new apartment together in August and despite the stress of Boston housing and moving, I have enjoyed getting to live with someone whom I love so much. I am sure that we will both learn so many lessons during this first year of living together and I will definitely share my observations. Reaching this milestone in a romantic relationship is such an awesome feeling for me given the amount of heartbreak I’ve experienced in the past. I feel so secure in my relationship and we often discuss how excited we are for our future together. I share more of my thoughts on living with a romantic partner and my relationship in this podcast episode.

Interestingly enough, I’ve found myself questioning and spiraling about my friendships now more than ever before. Growing up in Minnesota and being a people pleaser who now lives in the more stoic city of Boston, I have learned to be a bit more confrontational when something upsets me and I am trying to not take situations as personally. Most often, people do not act with malicious intent. The world is not against me; rather, everyone is just thinking about themselves. I also miss my friends who live in other places so much and I often panic about us drifting apart, and I would probably feel better if I knew that they felt the same way – if I know that they also care as much about preserving our friendships as I do.
As much as my friends may value me (and vice versa), we all have our own lives and ever-changing priorities. We can love each other and also be unable to devote every single moment or feel every single emotion with each other. We can disagree without making each other feel small. I feel as though I always need to be the best version of myself (say all of the “right” things, look my best, be in the best mood) in front of my friends because I fear being negatively perceived so much. These are people who know me well and I still worry that one vulnerable sentence or “negative” feeling will push them to view me in a poor light. This is something that I have recognized about myself and I am slowly working on it. These fears likely stem from somewhere and I’d love to squash them. I am so proud of the deep friendships that I have formed throughout my life and in Boston, and despite my own insecurities, I know that I am and can be a stellar friend. I will always invest my heart into my friendships and while my capacity may shift at different points in my life, I know that I am capable of making my friends feel valued just the same. I think that I also yearn to feel important to my friends, and I know that I am, but I overthink myself into doubting my place in a friend’s life too frequently.

In this vein, a recurring nightmare that I have is one in which someone (or multiple people) is berating me and I cannot form a coherent sentence in response. I am defenseless and I just blubber and cry. Assumptions are being made about me and thrown back in my face and I do not have the ability to explain myself. I am relieved when I wake from these nightmares, but I’m forced to acknowledge that these also probably stem from something. I am unsure if these subconscious fears are associated with being a woman of color and the constant pressure, double standard, and doubt that comes with these identities or if it’s from past experiences with people in my life where I expressed my hurt and was gaslighted in return. Regardless, I look forward to unpacking this more in my journal and in therapy (goal for twenty seven: find a therapist).
These nightmares often manifest into night terrors, during which I talk, yell, scream, and cry in my sleep. It can be very unsettling to hear and it’s even more unsettling to experience, but I do believe that I can take steps to prevent these from happening. Overall, I have not had the best routine for myself health wise this past year, and I desperately need to hold myself accountable with the goal of preserving my wellbeing and peace.

At the end of February, I visited India for the first time in five and a half years. One of my greatest friends from college, Simran, had her destination wedding at the Alila Fort in rural Rajasthan. This trip was pivotal for many reasons. I had never traveled to India without my family or without the purpose of visiting family before, and while I would have loved to see my family, paid time off and my journey did not allow for it. I was able to spend some time with my mom in Delhi before taking off for the wedding weekend, and she met some of my friends as well. My dear, sweet friend, Siddharth, collected me from the Delhi airport as I landed late at night, and my mom and I were able to spend the following day with him (Sid was very helpful in helping us navigate the chaos of Delhi). More of my besties, Nikil and Shamina, were able to spend the next day with my mom and me, and I had a wonderful time introducing my mom to all of these meaningful people in my life.
In addition to the beautiful celebration that it was, Simran’s wedding was also an epic reunion of our college friends. I had so much fun laughing, dancing, drinking, eating, and chatting with everyone and I truly think that traveling, specifically internationally, with friends is one of the most special experiences one can have on this earth. The memories and the stories that I have to tell remain close to my heart.

Being with my mom for those couple of days in India was also substantial as we lost my grandmother (her mother), less than a couple of weeks prior. My grandmother was a true matriarch. She raised three children mostly on her own, taught biology, english, and dance in a time when many women were unable to work, was a state champion in table tennis, lived with rheumatoid arthritis, and survived breast cancer. Even though I had not seen her for quite some time (too long), I never imagined a day without her on this earth. A piece of my heart is missing, but I know that it is residing safely with her. I am so glad that I was able to see my mom so soon after my grandma’s passing; we do not realize how much time we spend away from our families after we become adults.

Twenty six had its fun moments with trips to Maine, Rhode Island, New Hampshire, Vermont, Wisconsin, Philadelphia, and New York City. I was able to make memories in all of these places with either family, Ben, and/or friends. I visited Philly for the first time and I loved it! Vermont and Maine were beautiful, and I already knew that Rhode Island and New Hampshire were as well. I had the pleasure of helping my brother move to Wisconsin for his first post-grad, full-time job, and as always, I am so proud to be his older sister. I really cannot express my love for NYC enough; I often tell people that the city makes me feel so important and unimportant simultaneously. It’s magical.

My best friend, Harmanpreet, and I took a trip to Montreal together in April. This trip was definitely needed as Harmanpreet is now in residency and we’ve lived in different states for the past few years. I don’t really know how it is possible to exist without seeing one’s best friend for months at a time, but we’ve made it work throughout every chapter and I can always count on her to fully know and see me, even with miles and miles of distance. Our dear friend, Tripat, lives in Montreal, and we were able to spend two nights in beautiful sisterhood with her. We, quite literally, stayed awake until 3 am talking with each other both nights. I feel so grateful to have hometown friends who have recurring roles in every chapter of my life. I can confidently say that we have always, genuinely, rooted for each other and will continue to do so.

This past year marked the second year of taking Ben to Minnesota, and we had a grand time. My college besties, Sarah and Harold, had their wedding back in June and being able to finally introduce Ben to them (and our other bestie, Swad) meant a lot to me. Every day that I am able to spend in Minnesota, especially with my partner, is a blessing. I feel so at home there.

This year was a fantastic year for concerts. I saw so many of my favorite artists live that I was forced to create a new list of dream shows! Concerts from this past year include: Kacey Musgraves, Shaboozey, Vince Staples, Charles Wesley Godwin, Vansire (my hometown friends!), Kendrick Lamar, SZA, Beyoncé, Hozier, and Tyler the Creator. Typing this list gave me butterflies all over again. Stay tuned for the concerts I have scheduled for twenty seven!

I would be remiss if I did not acknowledge the disappointment and heartbreak that I have over the presidential administration that was elected over the past year in the United States. I sat in my apartment with my roommate on the night of November 6th and watched the screen turn much too red. The sheer terror that I felt, and continue to feel, in every inch of my body is unfathomable. I was not enthused about either candidate (and I was privileged enough to express this sentiment living in a blue state), but to know that the man in the White House won by as much as he did is distressing. In addition to the ongoing (and, frankly, decades long) occupation and genocide in Palestine and the horrors in countless other places globally, we have undocumented people, people of color, queer and trans people, birthing people, children, and more (basically everyone) fearing for their lives in this country (unsurprising, but still terrifying) as well. Every bit of funding is being stripped, misinformation and disinformation are rampant, and I’ve seen one too many (to be clear, one in itself is already too many) flag stickers with blue lines through them on cars for my liking. Individualism, white, male podcast hosts, AI usage, and book banning are ruining us and I think that we all have every right to feel afraid. I urge everyone reading this to remain vocal about human rights, Palestine, trans rights, reproductive rights, and every single other issue. We cannot stop fighting for and alongside one another until we see a free Palestine, a greener earth, and kids who can go to school without fear of being killed. When I think about all of this, I find difficulty in even celebrating my twenty seventh birthday when we watched another school shooting happen just last week and people are starving to death in Gaza. What are we doing?
Fostering community is so important – now more than ever. Inviting people into our smaller circles, resource sharing, and being present for one another is essential in enacting greater impact. I am always open to chatting about any of this more or brainstorming ideas for how we can all be involved in our communities.

Society does not prepare those in their mid to late twenties for the amount of weddings, pregnancies, moves, house buying, and engagements happen on an almost weekly, if not daily, basis. This time in life is a blast, but it can also place immense pressure on us to avoid feeling behind or as though we are not doing enough. I want to say that I’ve released myself from all of the expectations that exist to hit specific milestones at specific ages, but I am not quite there yet. As a virgo and eldest daughter of immigrant parents, I cannot help having a timeline and a plan. I’ve also realized that the beauty of my mid to late twenties is the constant pivoting because of how much does not happen according to these self/societally imposed plans. I still have so much that I want to accomplish professionally and creatively.
My podcast and my blog continue to reach more and more people, and I want to spend more time cultivating these projects. I want to start writing my book. I want to create more Instagram reels (it’s so fun). I want to write, record, and release a song. I want to visit new countries and reconnect with old friends. I want to finally complete my first marathon (unfortunately, I was injured during training last year after having a terrible bout of COVID). I want to try new recipes and read even more books. Realizing that I have free will – true, adult, free will – has been liberating and I can choose to fill my time however I’d like.
Every year of my life is so formative and I expect this year to be even more so. I cannot wait to report back on my experiences and learnings, and I’m always thankful to have you all here with me. Cheers to twenty seven! XOXO

books read while twenty six (my faves/must reads are asterisked):
– Where’d You Go, Bernadette by Maria Semple
– The Housemaid by Freida McFadden*
– The Housemaid’s Secret by Freida McFadden
– Love Medicine by Louise Erdrich
– Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro
– All My Rage by Sabaa Tahir*
– The Housemaid Is Watching by Freida McFadden
– Pineapple Street by Jenny Jackson
– The Bangalore Detectives Club by Harini Nagendra
– Wicked by Gregory Maguire
– A Man of Two Faces by Viet Thanh Nguyen*
– The Rachel Incident by Caroline O’Donoghue*
– Martyr! by Kaveh Akbar*
– Yellowface by RF Kuang
– Sex: How Cannabis, CBD, and Other Plant Allies Can Improve Your Everyday Life by Merry Jane
– The Message by Ta-Nehisi Coates
– Nightcrawling by Leila Mottley
– Rosewater by Liv Little
– Great Big Beautiful Life by Emily Henry
– Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Murakami
– One Golden Summer by Carley Fortune*
– White Tears/Brown Scars by Ruby Hamad*
– The Boyfriend by Freida McFadden
– Harlem Shuffle by Colson Whitehead
– I Have Some Questions for You by Rebecca Makkai
– Anita de Monte Laughs Last by Xochitl Gonzalez*
– ACE by Angela Chen
– currently reading: Childhood/Youth/Dependency by Tove Ditlevsen

instagram: @ natashasohni
podcast info: @lotsoflovepodcast on instagram, Lots of Love (with Natasha Sohni) on Spotify & Apple – linked here on my website as well
substack info: http://natashasohni.substack.com
check out my spotify playlists here

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Turning Procrastination into Intention.

I’m writing this on Sunday, June 15th. My last piece on this page was published at the end of February, and I promised myself, and my readers, that I would be posting more often due to my lack of writing last year. I do not know where the time went and I would be lying if I wrote that I am not disappointed in myself. I cannot even attribute my absence to any excuses because in my mind, none of them should have kept me from doing something I claim to love.

I procrastinate tasks or hobbies that will genuinely better my life. If someone else is depending on me, I complete the task right away, but I do not show that same commitment to myself. I have so many goals and dreams, but in recent history, I struggle to take any steps toward accomplishing them. I seem to be coasting through each day without actively thinking about how I want to shape it.

The ways in which we are hard on ourselves or punish ourselves are ones that we would not tolerate from a friend, family member, or any outside party. I yell at myself for not performing and for constantly undermining my own potential success, and this only pushes me further toward apathy. I can simply continue to dread every day and repeat the same habits because I know what to expect. If failing is so easy, why should I even try? I cannot bear to fail others, but I’m okay with constantly failing myself.
Perfectionism entraps me and prompts me to become upset with myself when I do not meet my own expectations. I refrain from doing the things that I love, such as writing, because I do not want to disappoint myself. This leads me to embody a walking contradiction considering I am, anyways, disappointed in myself for not doing these things.

I could find (and probably have) a million reasons to explain my shortcomings regarding my writing or my other personal and professional goals, but ultimately, I need to foster and embrace my self-respect. I cannot expect the life that I want for myself to just fall into my lap if I am not doing anything to make it happen. I want to believe that I care enough about my own well-being to push myself toward the things that I deserve.
I am overwhelmed by the constant terrors that flood our news cycles in addition to my own, personal, never-ending to-do list, and I should allow myself to focus on only what I can handle instead of trying to do everything simultaneously. This is not working and results in me neglecting my dreams and passions. It’s not the life that I want to live.

As we approach a new season, I intend to create as much as I possibly can without worrying about its quality. I want to nurture the best version of myself which entails doing the things that I love, creating and sticking to fulfilling habits, being around the people whom I love, and providing for my community when I can. If I “fall short” of my own expectations, I will give myself the grace that I extend to others and try again the next day. My mental and physical health matter most and I will only do what serves them both – even if this requires a harder path at times.

Writer’s Block.

    

Recently, I’ve viewed writing has been a mountain range that stretches for miles, and I’ve been coasting alongside it rather than crossing over it. I haven’t even attempted to cross over it. My laptop sits closed, and I’ve had “blog post” written on my to-do list for months. The lack of writing is unusual for me, but the strangeness has lasted for far too long at this point. Not writing has almost become the norm, and I love writing! I want to write and publish books, but I am not doing anything to help myself achieve this goal. Honestly, I feel as though a rock has been weighing on my heart, a dense fog keeps wafting through my brain, and I’m just walking straight into a clear glass wall repeatedly. I have been struggling to overcome this hump, so I finally decided to write about it. I might as well take advantage of my writer’s block.

Writing is one of my most treasured passions. It fulfills me in ways that I wish I could find elsewhere and I do not know where I would be without it. I love writing so much, but I rarely give myself time to do it. Yes, balancing a full-time job, personal health & wellbeing, a social life, family, career advancement, world events, and inner turmoil is hard, but I could also improve at carving out time to do something that I cherish.
Throughout college, I was writing constantly. I felt like I could not adequately express my experiences and thoughts without putting the words on a page. I was always itching to publish a new blog post and I loved the excitement that it provided. For the past couple of years, my goal has been to publish a blog post every other week. Clearly, that has not happened and more than feelings of shame or embarrassment, I feel sad. How can I call myself a writer or venture around telling people that I have a website if I’m not publishing anything on it? I do have a lot to say, but I am struggling with how to say all of it. My emotions have only grown more complex as adulthood and this world have become more complex, and being a perfectionist does not help these matters. I feel as though I’m racing against a societal clock, myself, and the twenty four hours in a day.

Due to these feelings of overwhelm, I’ve spent a lot of time embracing and inhaling the winter air this year. I love cold weather, but I truly have been using the colder temperatures to sort of shock myself into believing that my life is worth cultivating. I think that this has helped and I yearn to foster my passions once again.

I’ve seen it a few times before, but I was watching Set It Up last night, and I perked up at the scene during which Harper is complaining to Becca about her writer’s block, and Becca tells her to get it together (she hits her with a pillow) and write something regardless of its quality. Enough space exists for everyone and every piece of work, and “bad” writing is still necessary writing. As someone who centers human rights and social justice in everything she does and is uncomfortably vocal, I have an immense fear of my words being picked apart by keyboard warriors (as they have many times in the past). I overthink every word I write as I know that each one will be criticized by random people I do not know (or worse – people I do know), but I need to remember that someone will always be upset and it’s okay for me to create things that upset people. I cannot move an audience or enact change if I do not disrupt as well. I cannot be successful or create meaningful work if I run away from criticism.

Creating something is better than creating nothing at all. The time has arrived for me to push this rock off of my heart, clear my mind, and shatter the glass that is pushing against me. In his most recent book, The Message, Ta-Nehisi Coates mentions how his words reach places that he has not even visited and people whom he has not even met. He discusses the necessity of writing and how it can change the way people think or move through their lives.

“It may seem strange that a fight that began in the streets has now moved to the library, that a counter-revolution in defense of brutal policing has now transformed itself into a war over scholarship and art.” – Ta-Nehisi Coates, The Message (in reference to the murder of George Floyd & the attacks on critical race theory being taught in schools)

My writing is important. I can and should write about anything and everything. I am exhausting myself by conjuring up baseless excuses and being in my own way. The resources are, literally, at my fingertips and I need to use them. To grow as a writer, I need to write. To grow an audience, I need to write. To feel fulfilled, I need to write.

I am holding myself accountable. Prepare to be sick of me!

find me here
– instagram: @natashasohni
– podcast: Lots of Love (on Spotify, Apple, and other streaming platforms), @lotsoflovepodcast on instagram
– I made a Substack!!! natashasohni.substack.com

26th Birthday Reflection.

(Birthday reflections is a series on my blog.)

I cannot believe that we are already here! I am writing this on the eve of my twenty sixth birthday. In a couple of hours, I will be off of my parents’ insurance. In a couple of hours, I will officially be in my mid-to-late twenties. I feel as though the age of twenty six does not mean much in itself, but the task of paying for my own health insurance (resulting in a slightly lower paycheck amount every couple of weeks) is plaguing me. Of course, my situation could be much, much worse, and overall, I am choosing to bask in the gratitude that comes with entering another year of life.

This is my fourth birthday that I am spending in Boston. While my grievances with the city still stand, it has brought me a lot of opportunity and joy over the past year. I moved into a new apartment right before my twenty fifth birthday, and I am living here for the next year as well. I appreciate the area in which I live very much; I can walk to two different train branches, a bus stop, my gym, two drugstores, two grocery stores, multiple restaurants, a running route, and my favorite bookstore all within ten minutes. Shortly before my birthday last year, I resigned from my job at the time, so I spent the first few months of twenty five applying to new ones. During this time, I had the pleasure of TAing for a class at the BU School of Public Health and working at Athleta. With Boston prices, Boston rent, and student loans, I am not entirely sure how I stayed afloat on the savings and small paychecks that I received, but I know that I could not have done so without the support of my family. I am forever grateful to have parents and a brother who cheer for me and hold me accountable in every chapter of my life.

I absolutely loved TAing. I love mentoring and I love teaching. I always have, and I know that in another life I would have enjoyed being a teacher. My experience as a TA and other mentoring experiences throughout the past several years have prompted me to contemplate being a professor. My goal is to dip my toe into this by looking for teaching opportunities at community colleges and possibly pursuing a PhD down the line. I would love to be a safe and brave space for students as well as use my research and resources to effect social and policy changes.

My first job was a swim instructor for my swim club. I started teaching children how to swim when I was ten and continued doing so until I graduated high school. My other jobs include writing for my hometown newspaper, internships and full time jobs related to my career, and working at a gym. While I garnered so much knowledge and experience in all of these roles, I had never worked a true retail position until I worked at Athleta. I learned so much about the inner workings of retail and what happens behind the scenes, and I enjoyed my time there. I met cool people and I did a great job greeting and helping customers. I walked and did more physically than I expected, and this role was unlike anything that I had done before. I already knew this, but my time at Athleta only confirmed how so many high level, C-Suite, so called “elite” or “intellectual” individuals would not last a day in retail or any service industry job.

In January of this year, I started working full-time as a Community Health Educator at the Cambridge Health Alliance. I work specifically in the Sexual and Reproductive Health program which lies in the Community Health Department. On any given day, I could develop curriculum and teach sexuality education in classrooms, counsel students on health options from birth control to STIs to relationships, collaborate with other organizations that are focused on substance use or housing, help students and families register for health insurance or any assistance programs, hold youth development workshops, and more. I know that the work that my coworkers and I are doing is potentially life-saving, and I have learned so much from this position. My fellow educators are such interesting and knowledgeable people and I am thankful for my team. Working with youth in this capacity has also reinforced my love of teaching and I cannot wait to see where my intersecting passions take me. I do experience frequent imposter syndrome and question my career as anyone would, but I also remind myself that the grass is always greener. This job, this phase, this chapter of my life is not forever, and I have the privilege and freedom to change my mind.

Right before my birthday last year, I met the most wonderful man. I have never been in a healthier or happier relationship and I have never been treated so well. The confidence that I have in him and our relationship is something that I feared I would never truly feel. My emotions overwhelm me and my heart could not possibly capture all of the adoration that I feel for him. I feel as though we have already experienced so many chapters together and I cannot wait for more. We meet every challenge and disagreement with love and respect. It feels easy. Everyone in my life who has met him as described him as gentle and sweet, and this says so much. When I met him, when I hugged him, when I inhaled him, he felt like home. I can display every part of myself with him and he also pushes me to discover more about myself. I hope that all of my friends experience a partnership like the one that I have with him. I thank the universe every day for placing him in my life. Ben, I love you and I am so in love with you. Thank you for actively loving me.

While I have discovered so much solace in my romantic relationship, I have struggled with my friendships more over the past year. I put so much pressure on being the perfect friend and I invest so much energy into my friendships, but I find myself questioning all of them at the same time. I am constantly asking myself whom I have in my corner and I constantly worry that I have done something to upset someone. So many of my closest friends live in different places and I do not see them often. I worry about the effects that distance can have on a friendship. I have heard less from people whom I considered close over the past year, but when I have asked them about it, they say that nothing is wrong. This questioning that I have of myself has likely stemmed from the fact that I experienced a falling out (? not even sure if I would call it that) with one of my best friends. I considered her so close and we often discussed living next to each other, traveling together, and more. I invested so much care and love into this friendship and I believed that it was worth the fight. I did not receive any closure and I still do not have answers. I remain very confused and the friendship breakup has created a larger hole inside of me than I expected. I feel as though she already had one foot out of the door and I have realized that we cannot make people stay if they’re already set on leaving. Choose people who choose you. I would like to work on keeping the heartache of this friendship out of the ones that I do have.

In exciting news, I completed my second Boston Women’s 10K this past fall and I am training for the Philadelphia Marathon currently! I am absolutely terrified, but, as I always say, if I am anything, I am brave. Training has had a lot of downs with a couple of ups, but I am learning more about myself and my body and the schedule has pushed me into a better routine.
I am unsure about the cause as it could be the location of my apartment or stress or something else, but I have fallen more ill over the past year than I have previously. I have not experienced anything major, but I have had colds more frequently and I experience congestion often. I am focusing more on my health and wellness as a result; I have created a better skin, oral, and hair care routine, developed mental health practices, and centered nutrient rich foods. With twenty six on the horizon, my health is truly in my hands and I owe it to myself to cherish it.

I had an exciting year of travel. In addition to visiting my home state of Minnesota a few times (once to celebrate my younger brother’s college graduation – so proud of you, Neil!), I had a lovely fall trip to the White Mountains in New Hampshire with friends and visited Austin, Texas for the first time for a wedding in March! This summer, I took another friend trip to Rhode Island and I fell in love with the state. We spent a day on Block Island as well, and it was the epitome of a coastal dream. Ben is from Western Massachusetts, so I had the opportunity to visit Amherst and the surrounding towns. This part of the state is so different from the Boston area and I didn’t really expect any of it. I am excited to spend more time there and see how it looks in the fall.
As many might have seen on Instagram, I took a solo trip to Copenhagen, Denmark in August. I had a blast! The ability to travel internationally is one that I do not take for granted and I am obsessed with Cope. The city is so well planned and perfect for solo traveling or traveling in a group. I discuss it more in this podcast episode, so I recommend listening to it for my thoughts on Copenhagen and solo traveling more generally.

The concept and, specifically, the ambiguity of death terrifies me. Death is probably my greatest fear, but I have spent more time coming to terms with mortality over this past year. I read about tragic accidents and hear of people from my past passing, and these situations only grow harder and harder to process. At the same time, I do not ponder death in, necessarily, a bleak or morbid way, but I am pushing myself to accept that it is inevitable. Like any human being, I love security and certainty, but as someone in her mid twenties, I would not really say I have much of either. Even if I happen to feel secure on a personal level, climate anxiety eclipses my mind and the general sorrow that I feel for the world keeps me awake at night. How am I supposed to celebrate my wins or my loved ones or go to work to barely pay rent or really do anything at all when Palestinians are being cleansed? How am I supposed to exist when genocides have been and are taking places across the world? How am I supposed to laugh or smile or “keep going” when diseases run rampant, some part of the world is aflame at any given point, and one community is being exploited to benefit another? I am expected to pay student loans and not question authority when people are being obliterated? I can no longer live in this world without thinking about Palestine in every breath that I take. While many young people are pushed toward nihilism and I sometimes succumb to it, I cannot accept it. We all deserve to discover what our lives mean to us especially when we do not know what comes next. If an afterlife or heaven or reincarnation or whatever one believes does not exist, this life is the only chance that I have to do and feel all that I can. I would rather embrace the state of impermanence in which I find myself than waste my days craving monotony, and I planning on dedicating twenty six to this feat.

To everyone who loves me, cares for me, and supports me: I am here because of you. Thank you. I love you!

books read while twenty five (my faves/must reads are asterisked):
– The Golden Couple by Greer Hendricks & Sarah Pekkanen
– An Impossible Return by Caroline Laurent
– Mad Honey by Jodi Picoult & Jennifer Finney Boylan*
– Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn*
– Ghosts of Harvard by Francesca Serritella
– Romantic Comedy by Curtis Sittenfeld
– Tell Me How This Ends by Jo Levers
– Our Missing Hearts by Celeste Ng
– The Sentence by Louise Erdrich*
– Red, White, & Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston
– The Lady from Burma by Allison Montclair
– One by One by Ruth Ware*
– Olga Dies Dreaming by Xóchitl González*
– The Winners by Fredrik Backman*
– Brick Lane by Monica Ali
– Trouble the Living by Francesca McDonnell Capossela
– Icebreaker by Hannah Grace
– Transcendent Kingdom by Yaa Gyasi*
– King of the Armadillos by Wendy Chin-Tanner*
– The House of the Spirits by Isabel Allende
– Funny Story by Emily Henry
– Cult Classic by Sloane Crosley
– Burnt Sugar by Avni Doshi
– The Beauty of Your Face by Sahar Mustafah*
– Essential Labor: Mothering as Social Change*
– Naysayer: Poems by Isra Hassan* (my friend!)
– Babel by RF Kuang*
– The Lowland by Jhumpa Lahiri
– The Butterfly House by Katrine Engberg
– White Teeth by Zadie Smith*
– This Summer Will Be Different by Carley Fortune*
– Real Americans by Rachel Khong*
– currently reading: In Five Years by Rebecca Serle

Thank you to everyone who has supported my podcast! I would really appreciate the follow on Apple/Spotify as well as Instagram @lotsoflovepodcast. I have had people listen in over 30 countries and almost 3,000 all time plays.

donate here:
– Palestinian Children’s Relief Fund
– Save the Children in the Congo
– Doctors Without Borders (Congo, Sudan, Palestine, and more)

Returning to Myself.

I visited Minnesota last month with my boyfriend, and we were driving back to Rochester from Minneapolis after having dinner with friends. Suddenly and overwhelmingly, I burst into tears. I hadn’t cried like this in a long time and, of course, I had to do so while driving on a highway.

A simple honk prompted these tears. I would like to consider myself a good driver, but I made a mistake and a car honked at me. I do not have the opportunity to drive very often and this visit to Minnesota was the first time that my boyfriend would be in the passenger seat. The trip had to be perfect, my driving had to be perfect, I had to be perfect. I would make little mistakes here and there like parking at a slant or jerking the car, and I was upset with myself every time.

As one could probably guess, the root of my emotions ran much deeper. The honk, and even the driving, is what pushed me over the edge, but I was already upset with myself for so many other reasons. I did not receive the results that I desired from my doctor’s appointment that morning, I was a little sleep deprived, and thoughts about how I was failing in my career, friendships, and health goals consumed me. As I was sobbing, my boyfriend gently consoled me and told me how amazing I am. I wouldn’t have wanted to cry anywhere else or with anyone else.

I know that I am not a failure and I doubt people view me that way. As much as I try to shed my perfectionist tendencies, they choose to latch onto to me at inopportune times. I hadn’t let go of myself in a while and while breakdowns can be therapeutic, I do wish that I weren’t so mean to myself. This is only exacerbated by the idea that people do not always recognize how hard we already are on ourselves before they say or do something that hurts us. I internalize little comments or fairly meaningless moments so deeply, and I’ve realized that I need to work on letting go of these things. The other person is likely no longer thinking about the situation and I’m only doing a disservice to myself.

I have spent the past couple of years (and most of my time in Boston, honestly) being extremely critical of myself and, unfortunately, with both the good and the bad, my determination knows no bounds. I am sure that living in a competitive, cold, and fast-paced environment contributes to the emotional bruises that I give myself, but I know that living with constant comparison (whether instigated by myself or others) in my twenties has truly been the thief of my joy.

My visit to Minnesota, coupled with showing the person whom I love all of the places that built me, provided me with a therapeutic release of my feelings, and I would honestly like this to occur more often. As I approach another year of life, I look forward to focusing on my wellness in all aspects. I believe that my emotional and mental wellness will be foundational to my physical wellness, so I am doing my best to readily receive peace and release turmoil. I look forward to returning to myself.

Dreaming of a Free Palestine.

Before reading this, I’d like to remind my readers to prioritize reading the words of Palestinians first.

I started writing this in October, and I have not been able to finish it. I knew that I could not publish anything else without writing about Palestine first as it weighs so heavily on all of our hearts. I kept trying to write, but the news grew worse and worse every day. How will my words resurrect the lives of tens of thousands of people? How do I process these horrors and what can I do as someone who is not on the ground in Gaza? I write this for the people who have chosen to remain silent on and/or complicit in genocide. I write this to hold them accountable because their excuses ran dry months (let alone years) ago.

Over the past several months, I have seen posts and opinions from people (friends, peers, colleagues) that I never expected to see. The oppression and erasure of the Palestinian people have always been “hush hush,” but with Hamas’s attack on israel in October, the situation (this word is not sufficient) officially permeated the Instagram industrial complex. We had influencers, celebrities, and those who have never been outspoken about anything before posting the “I stand with israel” infographic without a second thought – as though israel hadn’t been attacking Palestinians for decades prior to this.

I have been vocal in supporting the Palestinian struggle and liberation on my social media, my podcast, and in my conversations both on and offline, and many of my friends have as well. Palestinians in Gaza and around the world have asked the global community to spread the truth as western media, people in power, and israel itself have been bombarding everyone with propaganda. So much of the content that has been shared by these entities has been disproven, yet people are willing to run with it to absolve their psyches. I know that my thoughts and posts have probably upset people, but I cannot silently watch a genocide unfold – especially as someone who has visited Palestine.

Weeks ago, student encampments arose all over the United States in protest of their universities’ investments in israel. We’ve seen university administrations direct and partner with police to brutalize not only the students, but prominent leaders and tenured faculty as well. Identities and experiences have not shielded these individuals from police violence; this in itself demonstrates how the sheer eradication of an entire group is not about providing a safe haven for the Jewish community or anything else. This genocide and the repercussions that people are experiencing worldwide boils down to power. It boils down to colonialism and western interests and racism and ethnic cleansing. israel is able to further its interests through unbelievable propaganda, the exploitation of Judaism (in addition to other communities), and villainizing Islam and brown people. (Although this should not need to be said, Palestinians are Muslim, Christian, and Jewish.) Importance exists in noting that we knew this decades ago, but recent events and student demonstrations have centered it.

I know who my true friends are because of the values that they have. With approximately 40,000 deaths and millions of people displaced, I refuse to tolerate any sort of debate as to whether or not a genocide is occurring or whether Palestinians deserve to live. I pay attention to what the people in my network are posting (or not posting), what they are buying, and how intentional they are with their learning. We do not have to be experts on Palestinian history or middle eastern conflict to condemn and protest genocide.
I’ve noticed that I see more efforts come from my friends of color than my white friends. I know that my white friends can see what is happening and I know that they see my posts. I know that they are uncomfortable, but we all are. Why should we be comfortable with genocide? It is disgusting and gut-wrenching to see people turn on each other and call for the erasure of millions. While Palestinian voices should have been platformed and believed initially, the global protests ensure that they are now. We need every single person to join the struggle.

My friends do not make excuses. My friends do not avoid conversations about Palestine. My friends donate and boycott and protest and learn. While my heart has been broken by some of my peers’ responses, it has also been mended by those who have stepped up to the plate. Cultivating liberation is a community effort.

Dreaming of a free Palestine.

resources (just a few – so many are out there!):
– Palestinian Children’s Relief Fund
– Hind’s Hall by Macklemore (100% of proceeds donated to UNRWA)
– Medical Aid for Palestinians
– follow @wizard_bisan1 & @sbeih.jpg on instagram
– follow @palestine.academy on instagram
– Read Palestinian authors! I just finished The Beauty of Your Face by Sahar Mustafah. The Hundred Years’ War on Palestine by Rashid Khalidi is popular non-fiction read.
– BDS Movement
– Good Reads books to boycott
– I do talk more about Palestine on some of my podcast episodes. I recommend conducting robust research on Palestine and its history on one’s own as well.

25th Birthday Reflection.

(Birthday reflections is a series on my blog.)

My year of being twenty four has rendered me speechless. It has been tough in all of the ways that I did not expect it to be, so I’m entering the age of twenty five with low expectations. I do not mean this in a negative way; I’m just more concerned with protecting my own peace than believing in false promises. I would say that I am ready to welcome my quarter life crisis with open arms, but I feel as though I’ve already been experiencing it.

This year entailed an insurmountable amount of change and it scared me. I spent a lot of time thinking about the concept of impermanence, but I think that humans usually cope with that by depending on the few things in their lives that remain constant. I feel as though I do not have a lot of constants right now, and I have not had them for a while. I, once again, am no longer a student, I moved countries, moved back, ended a long-term relationship, explored the Boston dating scene, ran my first 10K, moved apartments, met new people, grew apart from some of the old people, started a job, resigned from a job, and traded in my Minnesota license for a Massachusetts one. I even drove several cars throughout the state of Massachusetts for a couple of my jobs and none of these cars were mine. This does not even cover all of it as I am choosing to omit some other, more personal details.

I am writing this post in Boston. As most know, I moved to Boston at the end of August 2021 (to think that I was twenty two at the time is mind blowing!) to pursue my Master’s Degree in Public Health at Boston University. I am proud to say that I completed my degree this past December 2022. I managed to swing graduating a semester early, and my bank account thanks me for it. I’ll write more about the job application process in following paragraphs, but I wanted to say that I feel as though I haven’t really celebrated this accomplishment, or at least do not feel thrilled about it, with how tough the job process has been for so many of my peers and me.

In the fall of 2022, I had the absolute honor of working on a statewide campaign in Massachusetts for the general election. This campaign was called the Fair Share Amendment Campaign or Yes on 1. I was an Organizing Fellow for the Metro West region of Boston as well as college campuses (specifically Boston University). I was tasked with planning and scheduling canvassing (door-knocking, walking up to people, phone banking, etc) events and training our volunteers. I also reached out to community organizations and built relationships with them while also sharing why Yes on 1 would benefit their goals. Those who have worked on campaigns know that they are sporadic, unpredictable, tiring, emotional, and so much more. I was so nervous to knock on doors of Massachusetts residents as the people here can be a bit ~abrasive,~ but campaigns (and living in Boston) require thick skin. We ended up winning by maybe a percentage or two and I am so glad that all of our labor produced great results. I took my friends, Deepa and Nikil, to the campaign after party, and we ended up meeting Elizabeth Warren and taking a picture with her. I was honored to receive very touching reviews of my work from my supervisors, and one of my supervisors told me that I am a “true organizer.” Moments like these make the rough days worth it.

At this time last year, I was in a long-term relationship, and we were planning on living together after I completed my degree as long distance is not optimal. At the time, I was pretty sure that I was not going to stay in Boston. In a turn of events, the relationship ended after 2.5 years and we went our separate ways. While breakups are always sad, things ended as well as they could have, and I will always treasure our time together. We envisioned different lives and did not mesh in the ways that we desired. Since then, I’ve jumped into the Boston dating scene, and it’s been ~interesting.~ I’ve always been resilient when it comes to love/heartbreak/dating/romance/relationships, but this past year has been quite challenging; dating is a cycle of being excited and disappointed, breaking down walls and building them back up again. All I can say is that we will see what happens.

People always tell me to advocate for myself, and I’ve noticed how comfortable people are with taking advantage of me. Interestingly, I feel like I’ve upset more people this past year, or created more momentary tension, because I’ve chosen to fight for myself more. The friends who pushed me to show up for myself are the same ones who are upset when I actually do so and set boundaries. I’ve also been hurt by a lot of friends whom I regarded as close over the past several months, and I just keep reminding myself to choose people who choose me. I have always been so open and prefer having a large circle with friends in different places, but I have been pushed to curl into myself more this year. I am indebted to the people who continuously choose to be present for me and this became so clear during my low points as well as my move across the pond. My best friend, Harmanpreet, has done so much for me despite her own obligations (she is in the thick of medical school), and I just love how, despite all of it, we actively choose each other.

I have already written about my time in London, and I probably will do so in other posts, so I will not say too much about it here. I tried to cultivate a life there, but found difficulty (which I expected!) in securing a job as a non-UK citizen. I spent 1.5 months in London and I miss it dearly. I was worried that people would view me as a failure because I was unable to make it happen, but I have been surprised by the amount of support and praise that people have given me for even trying. I encourage everyone to pursue their dreams as it is better to live with an attempt rather than a regret. Please listen to my podcast episode on my time in London here.

As a music connoisseur, I attended many concerts as a twenty four year old! These artists include Jacob Banks, Novo Amor, Matt Maeson, and Noah Kahan. I would highly recommend all of their shows. Jacob Banks is truly one of the most talented singers I’ve ever heard and I wish that more people knew about him. Matt Maeson did an acoustic tour (no band – just him and his guitar/piano) and I was blown away by the entire night. I attended his show at a cool venue while I was in Orlando visiting my friend, Kaitlyn. She also said that his concert was one of the best she’s ever seen. Interestingly, I started listening to Noah Kahan years ago, and I am so happy that he has grown such a large fanbase. His pen game is phenomenal and I do not think I have ever related to a song more than “No Complaints.” I hope to attend more concerts this fall and I listen to almost every genre, so if anyone is looking for a concert buddy, I am your girl!

In addition to the wild cards that I threw into the deck over the past year, I was also dealt a fair amount as well. I was out to lunch for my mother’s birthday this past spring, and I received a text from my friend, Christina. She had a favor to ask of me, and this favor happened to be me officiating her wedding to her fiance (and my friend), Ben. I never, ever, ever thought that someone would ask me to marry them, and it was the honor of a lifetime. I completed the ordination process online and made it official by getting my certificate notarized at our hometown’s government center. We then went to work at crafting the perfect and personal script for the wedding, and I am happy to say that the ceremony went smoothly. I elicited a few laughs from the audience and had the opportunity to say “by the power vested in me.” I can now officiate any wedding within the state of Minnesota.

Twenty five is a stark reminder of how random our twenties are. I have friends who are engaged or married and buying houses. I have friends who are in school. I have friends who are making six figures. People are constantly moving and traveling. I try to avoid thinking about the conventional timeline or the fact that my mother got married when she was twenty five. I am so incredibly stressed about jobs especially after shelling out a good portion of money for my Master’s degree and paying rent in Boston. I have not had a moment to breathe this entire year, and I look forward to having a truly peaceful sleep once I am employed full-time. Every day is just a series of me asking, “what am I doing wrong?” “am I living in the right place?” “what would make me happy?” and more. I know that a lot of my peers are in the same boat right now, but I’m ready for the boat ride to end for all of us. The cost of living rises while wages remain stagnant or fall, and I am just so exhausted and sad. I think that I probably feel more lost now than I did at twenty three. I am hoping that September will be different, and I look forward to updating everyone when that time comes. I look forward to feeling found and settled and being employed and falling in love and having fun.

As many know, I started a podcast (both on Apple & Spotify) in the spring! I never thought that I would, but I decided to do so after some requests and encouragement from friends. The podcast is called Lots of Love, and I talk about anything and everything relating to my personal life and my relationship with the world around me. I am also planning on having guests on the pod, so stay tuned for that! I am at about 1,000 listens right now, and I really appreciate everyone’s support.

I can certainly say that my happy places are bookstores and libraries, and I have visited so many new bookstores over the past year! I would love to make a list of my favorite bookstores (organized by state, country, etc), so keep an eye out for this project. these are the books that I read while being twenty four, in no particular order (asterisk = definitely recommend!):
– Writers and Lovers by Lily King
– Peach Blossom Spring by Melissa Fu
– Every Summer After by Carley Fortune
– I’m Glad My Mom Died by Jennette McCurdy*
– Crying in H Mart by Michelle Zauner
– Love and Other Words by Christina Lauren
– Malibu Rising by Taylor Jenkins Reid
– The Nightingale by Kristin Hannah
– Beautiful World, Where Are You by Sally Rooney*
– Girl, Woman, Other by Bernardine Evaristo*
– Salt to the Sea by Ruta Sepetys
– Tigress by Jessica Mookherjee
– Love Marriage by Monica Ali
– The Guest List by Lucy Foley
– The American Roommate Experiment by Elena Armas
– The Christie Affair by Nina de Gramont
– The Girl with the Louding Voice by Abi Daré*
– The Widows of Malabar Hill by Sujata Massey*
– The Satapur Moonstone by Sujata Massey
– The Bombay Prince by Sujata Massey
– A Man Called Ove by Fredrik Backman*
– Dawn by Octavia Butler
– Happy Place by Emily Henry*
– The Beautiful Struggle by Ta-Nehisi Coates
– Meet Me at the Lake by Carley Fortune
– The Book of Lost and Found by Lucy Foley
– Black Cake by Charmaine Wilkerson*
– Independence by Chitra Banerjee Divakurni
– The Flatshare by Beth O’Leary*
– Songbirds by Christy Lefteri
– Looking for Alaska by John Green
– Conversations with Friends by Sally Rooney (this was very triggering)
– The Husband’s Secret by Liane Moriarty
– Daisy Jones & The Six by Taylor Jenkins Reid
– My Past is a Foreign Country by Zeba Talkhani*
– currently reading: The Golden Couple by Greer Hendricks & Sarah Pekkanen

After returning from London, I spent about 1.75 months at home with my parents as I had sublet my Boston apartment until May. I had not spent this amount of time at home since the summer after freshman year of undergrad, and it was very grounding. While I was itching to get back to my own space in Boston, I was also sad to leave my home. I spent every night watching Wheel of Fortune with my parents followed by Gilmore Girls, The Voice, or other game shows with my mom. After a tumultuous start to the year and so much time spent alone in a different country, experiencing a sense of familiarity and comfort was very nice. I am so grateful that I always have a place to which I can return and a family who will welcome me. I know that I have probably caused a lot of stress for my parents over this past year, but they never fail to show up for me. My brother, Neil, has been an amazing sibling and friend to me, and I appreciate all of the funny, puppy, and baby TikToks that he sends me.

I have compiled a lot of “what not to do” lessons from this year as well as learned how to protect myself. I know that choosing myself will upset some people, but I am learning to be okay with it. As you’re reading this, I am likely on my way to Cape Cod for the day, and I am so excited to kick off twenty five with a visit to a new place and autumn right around the corner. I am desperately hoping that twenty five will be good to me because I honestly need it to be. Here’s to falling in love with life.

sending you all hugs & smiles ❤

my fall 2023 playlist (still in progress but great so far imo)
my podcast

DONATE HERE:
– helping victims of violence
– MA Coalition for the Homeless
– Cradles to Crayons

False Promises.

tw for body image/dysmorphia, eating disorder — this is a raw, honest combination of thoughts that I have had & I, in no way, condone them or fatphobia — part of dismantling is admitting & some days are great and some days are not

every day, I pinch the fat on my body hoping that it will magically disappear
my bra never seems to fit properly and my jeans are either too loose or too tight
I blame the fashion industry for its inconsistent sizing, yet I gaslight myself into believing that this is just a poor excuse for my failure in achieving the perfect body
I still find myself in Zara, crying in the fitting room, pushing myself to skip dessert so I can fit into these pants that I am going to buy even though they are too small

I feel conscious of my body when someone takes a picture of me while I am sitting, but I feel conscious of my body when someone takes a picture of me while I am standing
meanwhile, my friends post thirst traps with their jaws snatched and their stomachs flat and I am not sure if I am happy for them
I wish that I did not feel like a monster
I wish that I did not care about the male gaze or the white gaze
I wish that I had a flawless Instagram presence

staring at myself in the mirror, obliterating every part of me, is exhausting and I promise myself that I will not do it anymore
the next day comes, and I repeat these actions
maybe I will stop if I guasha my face away or squat until my butt is a shelf
if I run five miles in 100 degree weather or do one more crunch

I mourn the body that I had three years ago even though I hated it at the time
I am upset with myself for not being kinder to myself back then, but I struggle to believe that I deserve kindness now
even though I am the same person

For the Eldest Daughters of Immigrants.

I know that literature regarding the experiences of the diaspora kid is oversaturated, but here I am writing about it. I hope to address the parts of the child of immigrants experience that are not as widely discussed, and I am going to do so from the eldest daughter perspective throughout the following paragraphs. I am sure that even eldest daughters, or eldest children, of parents who are not immigrants will relate to some of these points, but overall, I write this for those mentioned in the title of this blog post, including myself.

My younger brother has told me many times that he is so thankful to be the younger sibling. The older, or oldest, child has to experience everything first, and this is only exacerbated if you are now a woman who was raised in the United States by immigrant parents. In many ways, I believe that my experiences were easier compared to my friends as my parents had a less traditional (as compared to other Indian families) approach to raising children and all of the aspects that come along with it, and they had also resided in the United States for quite some time before having me. That being said, I still struggle with the pressures of being the eldest daughter and the feeling of being frequently misunderstood.

Certain aspects of growing up such as having playdates or sleepovers with friends, fashion, puberty, mental health, and dating are viewed very differently here in the United States than they are in India. While the lines are a little bit more blurred now, and commonalities do exist, I am sure that raising a daughter in the 2000s after moving countries was a different ball game. Not only do all young people experience these things, but as an immigrant daughter, I was navigating the pressures of building community within predominantly white spaces. Aeropostale, Hollister, and Abercrombie were trending, and I had to nervously and gradually float the idea to my mom that I wanted to shop at these stores. The white girls in middle school were obsessed with straightening their hair, and while I felt as though I needed to do the same, I could not muster up the courage to ask my mom for a flat iron until I was in high school and could get one myself (by this point, my appreciation for my hair had grown, and I rarely straightened it).

The way that periods are discussed in the US is likely very different than how it was discussed in India, and I did not know how to have these conversations with my parents when I reached that age of development. I had to test the waters myself and proceed accordingly. I have always been transparent with my parents regarding dating, and I was one of the few immigrant daughters who was allowed to have boys over, but every day was not smooth sailing. Despite the permission, I would butt heads with my parents over spending time with a boy, and where the boundaries lay within that. I was the first child with whom my parents had to go Homecoming and Prom dress shopping, and as a girl, the (now minuscule and silly) stressors that came along with these events were even more stressful.

My (white) friends would get upset if I could not spontaneously leave to spend time with them because I had obligations to my family and my own community. I had trouble determining how much of my culture and my family I should show to others because I did not have guidance from an older sibling. I was the guinea pig regarding social situations and my parents had to decide whether to enforce curfews or groundings, which are uniquely white, American concepts.

On top of the social pressures, a weight is also placed on eldest daughters to take advantage of every opportunity and succeed in a way that is deemed acceptable. We are representations of our parents cultivating better lives in unfamiliar places, and we have to prove that we are deserving. I think that I have disrupted convention a fair amount of times in my life so far, and I know that my parents have struggled to understand me, or know me, in these moments. As the older sibling, I feel pressure to ensure security in my life as quickly as possible and my loved ones would feel helpless if I expressed any vulnerability. Everyone is watching every move I make so that they can determine whether they should follow in my footsteps or keep me in mind as a “what not to do” lesson.

You’re experiencing everything first not only as a child and sibling, but also as the first person to go through K-12 schooling in a different country. Your classmates are different, your homework assignments are different, and your extra-curricular activities are different from what your parents knew. I held the answers to questions that my parents, or anyone who has immigrated here as an adult, did not, and I hold myself accountable for my brother’s success in this country both professionally and socially.

I also know that despite all of this, my parents still know best, and as much as I have tried to defy them as an eldest daughter who claims to be an expert in how American kids should be raised, I have learned to accept this. I still carry the weight and the pressures with me, and attempt to do whatever I want because I believe that I am right, but I no longer feel the need to conform as I did when I was a tween.

The eldest daughter of immigrant parents has to carry a lot on her shoulders. The mental exhaustion that comes with this role may seem trivial and dramatic (and maybe it is), but we cannot help how we feel. The expectations placed on us are great. I have many friends who have expressed similar stressors and I urge younger siblings to check in with their older siblings from time to time. I absolutely love being the older sibling, and would not trade it for anything, but this does not mean that I am not afraid when I am the first one to experience a new situation. The balance of fitting in with your peers (and being influenced by them) while also pleasing your parents is a delicate one, and I still feel as though, at the age of twenty four, that I have not mastered it. I find peace within this because I would rather give my brother a realistic view of being a diaspora kid over providing a flawless image that only exists in movies.