Dear Blog,
How have you been? It’s been a while, so I thought I should check in. Let’s talk—or maybe you’ll listen while I speak?
We recently returned from a holiday in Kochi, and it was so peaceful. I’m really glad I learned to swim a few years ago because now I can spend time in the pool with M rather than just being a spectator. It feels good. I’m still petrified of open water or cruises, but a swimming pool—that I can manage now. The things you do for your child, right? Not that M asked me to, but I don’t want her to look back at her childhood and remember me as just a statue by the pool.
I also did some pretty wild rides in the sea during our holiday in the Andamans, just so M wouldn’t think I’m a wuss. Let’s be honest, though—my heart was in my mouth the entire time, and I have to admit that when it comes to water, I am indeed a wuss. But putting that aside, it really does feel good to go on a quiet vacation to a nice resort and just unwind. This time, we even saw dolphins up close. We spent so much time in the pool or by the pool, far away from everything that spikes cortisol. Never in a million years did I think I would be able to swim, so never say never indeed. Who knows? Maybe one day I’ll drive without worrying that I’ll end up in jail for running over people!
This past month, I’ve also been particularly attuned to M’s moods—more than usual—because she’s been feeling down. Or rather, she’s gotten her first major taste of the kind of people she’ll inevitably have to deal with. Everything happens for a reason, and as my sister says, it will only help M in the future. I’m holding on to that thought.
If there’s one lesson I want my daughter to learn, it’s that being nice is overrated. I don’t want her to be nice. Niceness often invites people to take advantage of you, and it’s futile because the world can be cruel. “Nice” is just another word for “doormat.” As long as you quietly go along with what others want without questioning, you’re labelled as nice. The moment you stand up for yourself, you’re called bossy. You get the gist. I don’t want M to be nice at all. I want her to be authentic—always. And if that clears the unnecessary clutter from her life, all the better.
“Nice” is just another word for “doormat.”
There’s absolutely no need to be everyone’s cup of tea. We often mistakenly equate being nice with being good because, somewhere along the way, we were taught that being liked makes us good people. But here’s the thing: you don’t have to be nice to be good.
It’s funny, you know? M always frowns when someone uses the word “bitch,” but I’ve told her that people start calling you that when your existence makes them uncomfortable, when you stop being a remote-controlled toy, or when you have opinions. What I’ve learned in life is that it’s better to be a bitch than a doormat. So, be a bitch, be bossy—but don’t be nice. A doormat just gets walked on, and you definitely don’t want that.
What I’ve learned in life is that it’s better to be a bitch than a doormat.
What else shall I tell you, dear blog?
You know, it’s been months since I last visited the parlour. I just can’t seem to muster the energy to go, even though one is right next door. The last time I went was to get my eyebrows done, and even going back for the same now feels like a chore. I was never one to visit the parlour regularly, but it wasn’t like this before. I used to go for waxing, haircuts, sometimes a hair spa, and, of course, eyebrows—maybe not regularly, but often enough. Now, I just don’t want to.
Everything that needs grooming, I do at home. Besides, I’m terrible at the idle chatter that comes with a salon visit. Last year, my sister took me to a spa for my birthday, and even then, while lying on the spa bed, my mind refused to quiet down. I was anxious the whole time. I guess salons and spas just aren’t for me—maybe occasionally, but not something I particularly enjoy.
On top of that, there aren’t many parlours nearby that know how to handle curly hair. Back in college, I’d often get my hair straightened because curly hair care wasn’t really a thing, at least not in India. But over the past six or seven years, that’s changed drastically. Thanks to curly hair content creators, there’s been a revolution in how we take care of our curls. Now, there are so many products specifically designed for our hair type. We, the curly-haired women and girls, finally have options.
What’s even better is that I’ve grown to accept my hair for what it is. I no longer feel pressured to fit it into a box. That’s a huge relief because now I can go out looking like myself—hair and all—without feeling self-conscious. That’s why, when people ask if I wish I were younger, I say no. I really like the woman I’ve become—much more comfortable in my own skin than I ever was. So yes, dear blog, this woman right here is a serial salon defaulter—and doesn’t even mind!
Well, that was quite a varied mix of topics, wasn’t it? I hope you enjoyed listening to me. I sure liked unburdening myself, as always. You take care, dear blog. I’ll see you soon. Hopefully.
Ciao!