ashmitawrites

[ashmitawrites]

Dear Fear of Lack of Freedom

I know you are a part of me that loves me. I am so kind and loving to everyone around me by nature, that I often get exploited and treated like a doormat. No one deserves that, especially not me. So, every time when I get taken advantage of you are reborn. You try to warn me, to protect me from getting hurt. You try to teach me boundaries, but more often than not, you lose sight of them yourself. It causes me to lead a life shrouded in confusion. Whom should I trust and listen to? Do they want the best for me, or are they looking after their own benefits? Are they advising me out of sheer goodwill, or do they want to control me to get what they want?

Growing up, I have felt this immense pressure to live up to a certain standard. To be a model daughter, to have perfect grades and manners, to never have a hair out of place. I rarely, if ever, had the opportunity to think about what I want and take decisions independently. It was always controlled by what would make my parents happy and proud of me. I did not grow up learning to love myself, I grew up learning to be selfless and love others.

It started with my parents, but old habits die hard. My nature continued to live on within me. Everywhere I went, I would try to impress the person in front of me, make them love me, do anything to make them happy- at the cost of my own sanity. I started losing sight of who I am. I started focusing more on who people wanted me to be. And hence, my dear fear, you are absolutely real.

I don't know when, but at some point in my life, I made the correct decision of exploring what I like and what I don't. And that was one of the best decisions of my life. I tasted freedom then, true individuality and independence. Freedom feels like flying. It feels like no one can stop you, but yourself. It makes you feel so powerful that you start wondering why you ever bowed down. And that power is one hell of an addiction. I am not ashamed to admit it, I am addicted. To be able to be unapologetically you in a world that keeps trying to turn you into someone you are not at every turn- that is the most elevated form of power one can possess.

My fear is of losing that power. My fear is of losing myself and falling into traps instead of flying. But the thing about power is, it can be claimed back as easily as it can be lost- as long as the power is yours to hold. So my dear fear, calm yourself down. You reside within a powerful woman, and you are a part of what makes her powerful. As long as you exist, my fear, you have nothing to worry about. Cause you will shield me from choices that make me lose my power.

You, my dear fear, are also powerful. But I decide whether you live or die, because you are a part of me. I am more powerful than you ever will be.

A. (13.10.24)

[ashmitawrites]

the overwhelming feeling of sadness sometimes when someone treats me with kindness

[ashmitawrites]

Dear Fear of Failure

The past is just that, the past. There is no value in trying to look for your footsteps. I know I have made some choices in the past, several mistakes that have led you to come to life. But at the same time, mistakes are also lessons. I have learnt from them, and I have grown into a much more stable, balanced person.

Previously, I used to love others in my life so deeply that I forgot how to take care of myself and love myself too. I got immensely hurt because of that, which almost led to my death that one time I drank too much rum while not eating enough to provide nutrition to my body. As a result, alcohol overdose and poisoning happened, my blood pressure fell, and my heart almost stopped beating. Almost, but not enough. I survived. It was like a rebirth for me, I understood the value of my own life. I realized that nobody was worth giving up your life for and no emotional pain is enough to directly lead to the heart stopping. It is our actions that lead the way to what the rest of our life looks like, not the actions of others. They live with their actions just like we have to live with ours.

Having learned all of that at the tender age of seventeen, I have never made the same mistakes again. I admit, the tendency to put others before my own self is still there, it is in my nature. But I have learned to fight with my nature for the greater good of my own self.

You see, feelings are not real. Thoughts are not real either. Those are things that happen to float around in our brains from the actions of our own selves and others. So, if certain things are not real, what's the point in trying to control them? The only thing that is real is our actions. And actions are what we all should try to control.

Take this, for example. I felt scared. I thought that I would fail in life. Neither the feeling nor the thought would help me reach my desired outcome. If I tried to control them, in the end they would end up controlling me instead. I would have had two courses of action that would have had real value in my life- either let my fear control me and end up inevitably making it real, or I could act in a way that would never let the fear become the truth. I could work so hard that even if the nagging fright persisted, my actions to the contrary of it and the real outcomes it led to would eradicate the fear and make it unreal.

That is exactly what I have to do. That is what we all have to do. In a world full of feelings and thoughts, focus on the actions. Segregate the real from the unreal and always remember that actions are the only thing that can make other things change from one to the other- real to unreal, and vice versa. It is up to you what you choose to act upon and what you want your life to look like.

A (5.10.24)

[ashmitawrites]

Margaret Atwood, “The Blind Assassin.”

[ashmitawrites]

Dear Fear of Abandonment

The situation that I am in right now, you are quite legitimate. His actions are speaking quite loudly. But as you might know, actions, like words, can also have multiple meanings. Actions, like words, can also be deceiving. The only thing that is not deceiving though, is time. Time has its own way of showing everybody's truth, including your own. You are rational, my fear, and this is how I will make space for you. Through time. Time will not only bring out his truth, but my own truth too. My own truth regarding whether I still love him and more importantly, whether I still want him in my life. Love, like most feelings, is also deceptive. It is often not good for you in the long run, even if it makes you feel good in the short run. It is a huge, wide world. There must be someone else who is more suited for me than I consider him to be.

The universe has a flawed, but beautiful symmetry. Heaven and hell, earth and sky, fire and water, love and hatred. Everything in this universe has its own way of finding balance. And maybe, if he doesn't come back to me, it's the universe's way of correcting that imbalance. If it's meant to be, the universe will find a way to keep us together, just like heaven and hell.

In some ways, we switch roles. Once in a while, he becomes heaven when I am hell and once in a while, I become heaven when he is hell. I would like to think that we had both become hell, causing imbalance and friction, which did not sit well with the universe. Whatever it is, whether he comes back or not, I will be okay.

I am smart, talented, authentic, beautiful and loved. I deserve the world. If he doesn't come back to me, it does not mean that he is not worthy of giving me the world, or that he is not capable. It just means that people are all born unique and different, and the worlds we each seek and find peace in are different too.

Our worlds collided for a bit, and it was the most beautiful mess to ever exist. He was the sky, and I was the ocean, both infinite and both flowing in our own directions. When we collided, the world stopped to watch. But these infinities never meet. They are destined to collide and be a breathtaking sight, they are destined to yearn for each other for the eternities in which they exist. But they have to put their love at rest, cause in the end, it's still a mess- no matter how enchanting.

So, dear fear of mine, do not worry. What's mean to be will be. The universe will continue to operate in harmony. And if that harmony means I never meet someone else and spend the rest of my life alone, what can be more wholesome than that? It is the universe's way of telling me that I alone am enough. It is the universe's way of telling me that I don't need someone to find balance, that I am my own heaven and hell.

A (4.10.24)

[ashmitawrites]

“Hatred would have been easier. With hatred, I would have known what to do. Hatred is clear, metallic, one-handed, unwavering; unlike love.”

— Margaret Atwood, Cat’s Eye

[ashmitawrites]

“Don’t abuse a kind heart. You may never be offered one again.”

— Pokello Nare

[ashmitawrites]

everyone: what's your goal in life?

me: to write a story so soul snatching, so gut wrenching and so devastatingly beautiful that it leaves you crying at 3am when you have a 8am lecture/shift and it inspires people to write entire essays, to write entire fanfics, mood boards and playlists based on it.

[ashmitawrites]

“How long they choose to love you will never be your decision.”

— Drake; Thank Me Now

[ashmitawrites]

“I’ve always loved the idea of not being what people expect me to be.”

— Dita Von Teese

[ashmitawrites]

Clarity

If I’m writing about you, I can’t not start with what you always say. What you’ve ingrained in my mind and what I’ve come to believe even stronger than I did before, and that is, GOD DID. God really did. He sent you in my life, as a gift, a ray of light to blind me from all the darkness I’ve had to see. As a gentle apology for the rough times, maybe. When I look into your eyes sometimes, I get lost. I hear a voice that is not yours. 

“My child, I’ve put you in all the wrong places throughout your life not as a test. I knew you’d make it through, I built you that way. The ulterior motive was to prepare you for the happiness I had in store for you. The intention was to allow you to make all possible mistakes you could and learn from them, so that when the time comes, you do it right. The time has come.”

And then I snap back. You take me to places I haven’t been before, places that aren’t necessarily comfortable but always enriching. You make me see things from the beautiful floor to ceiling windows in your home. The home that you’re building for us, which is full of love and respect despite disagreements and differences. You make me see the twinkling lights from far away and the grand scheme of things, but never once do you forget to remind me how high up we are, how much more we’re yet to rise. Sure, I had my own dreams before I met you, I still do. You teach me to dream bigger, because you see me as more than I see myself. You see in me, what I can’t see in myself.

The first night I met you, I honestly had no idea that things would turn out this way. But I recall the moment your fingers entwined around mine, with a certain kind of physical strength I had never felt before. Whether it was just physical, is debatable. But I felt strength in your grip, I felt safe. Not just from the evil things on the planet, but also safe from my own demons. I felt protected in a way I never had, felt that this man wouldn’t just fight the world for me (and win), he would fight me too if it meant I walked on the path I’m meant to. The thing about trust is, most of it goes unspoken. And it truly did. I started trusting you a little from the moment you held my hand.

When your lips touched my forehead next, I felt respect. I felt seen as beyond an attractive young woman. The way you held on to every word I said with utmost sincerity, I felt heard. And not only did you listen, you responded by staying true to yourself and your beliefs, never once offending mine. I felt respect again. You talked about almost everything under the sun from music to marketing and pedophilia and religion and science and God and finance, and boy did I feel respect. I felt awe at your intelligence. I could have one conversation with you and learn more than I would in an hour of studying a textbook. The thing about respect is, it has to be earned. People spend their whole lives working to earn that, you did it in one night.

When you pushed me onto your bed, undressed me and kissed me hard, I felt hunger. Your skin against mine, my whole body was on fire- it had never felt like that with someone I met for the first time. I felt belonging, I felt remembrance. You seemed to be someone I had loved passionately in a past life. When you were inside me, I felt aggression and ownership. For the first time in my life, an independent, sassy boss like me, felt the urge to surrender herself. To you and solely you. The thing about ownership is, it has to be claimed. And you did not shy away from it. Every touch since that first night is the physical manifestation of the word “mine”.

When you warmed up rice and veggies for me and fed me with your own hands, I felt cared for. When you made a stupid joke about forgetting my name and saw the hurt in my eyes, I felt love. I started thinking I was just another random girl to you. I couldn’t get words out of my mouth, so I fell silent. As I laid there naked on your bed without making a single noise, you weren’t distracted. Your one single focus was making sure I’m okay again, and you would stop at nothing till I smiled again. I think that is the moment I fell. I remember you telling me that night itself that you were falling for me, I felt happiness like never before. I wish I could tell you too, but I was scared. When you took the initiative and asked me “What are we?,” knowing the difficult circumstances that we’d have to face in the near future, I felt brave. I felt like if I had you by my side, I could conquer the world.

I can’t possibly list down how fulfilled you make me feel, intensifying every emotion to such heights that it’s hard to distinguish between falling in love and flying. So I tried to describe the initial feelings, the ones that made me realise I was wrong all along about having nothing left to give. I loved, but it was dull and blurry.

I have never loved someone in full brightness and clarity until you.

A (16.1.24)

[ashmitawrites]

“Having a soft heart in a cruel world is courage, not weakness.”

— Katherine Henson

[ashmitawrites]

“I’ve always loved the idea of not being what people expect me to be.”

— Dita Von Teese

[ashmitawrites]

“They may not have loved you, but they did change you. They taught you. They grew you.”

— Bianca Sparacino

[ashmitawrites]

Magic at 15

I remember being seven years old when I picked up my first romance novel.

The words in those books, ever since, created a whole new world for me,

Full of love and romance, pain and fighting, but in the end, healing.

Or death. 

A normal kid would find those scary, overwhelming, and rather morbid.

But I didn’t control my temptation to go into a trance.

I wasn’t born normal. I find normal boring and unspecial and not worth it.

Reading about it didn’t quite satisfy me, obviously. I had to experience it.

I had to know more, I grew up with this thirst to understand what exactly is it

That sways the whole world, that makes the smartest men and women

Compromise on everything they’d be proud to hold for themselves, 

Lose their wits and ignore their minds knowing better, just for that one person.

When I became older, I found men. Each time, I thought I could heal this man.

When would I think about someone healing me, or healing my own self?

I just wasn’t thinking, only feeling. That’s the thing about love.

It is a paralytic for the logical parts of your brain as much as

it is cocaine for the illogical parts, intensifying every emotion

To such heights, that you feel like you’re falling.

The books weren’t lying when they said that love is a drug.

They just conveniently made addiction and overdosing look magical.

So when I opened my heart, made my body accessible and bared my soul

Treating each man I considered worthy of a chance like a king

I realized that none of them believed in magic,

Or maybe I just wasn’t magical enough.

Maybe I didn’t have what it took to revive them

And transform their beasts into beauty.

Maybe I just wasn’t magical enough.

A.

(2.4.2023)  ~to be continued

[ashmitawrites]

“Those who love you are not fooled by mistakes you have made, or by dark images you hold about yourself. They remember your beauty when you feel ugly; your wholeness when you are broken; your innocence when you feel guilty; and your purpose when you are confused.”

— Alan Cohen

[ashmitawrites]

Manipulate Me

TRIGGER WARNING: ABUSE, RAPE, GROOMING

“Grooming is when a person engages in predatory conduct to prepare a child or young person for sexual activity at a later time.

Young people are often 'groomed' before they are sexually abused. At first, they may be tricked into thinking they are in a safe and normal relationship so they may not know it’s happening or may feel they have no choice but to be abused.” 

(Source:https://www.education.vic.gov.au/school/teachers/health/childprotection/Pages/expolitationgrooming.aspx )

“Grooming allows offenders to slowly overcome natural boundaries long before sexual abuse occurs. On the surface, grooming a child can look like a close relationship between the offending adult, the targeted child and (potentially) the child’s caregivers. The grooming process is often misleading because the offender may be well-known or highly regarded in the community. As a result, it’s easy to trust them.”

(Source:https://www.d2l.org/child-grooming-signs-behavior-awareness/ )

Imagine that you’re preparing a meal. You gather all the ingredients, chop all the vegetables, put them together and cook before you devour. Now, imagine that you are the meal. You’re about to be consumed. 

Let’s add just a pinch of spice- all of this is happening while you’re oblivious.

I was only sixteen when it started. I thought I knew how the world works, that humans are selfish pretending to be selfless and whatever I had experienced till then was enough trauma for a lifetime. Little did I know that I knew a big fat sack of nothing.

He was my cousin and the closest brother among a number of others. By “closest” I mean, my family associated with his family significantly more than others, including gatherings, dinners and casual visits every now and then. Growing up since I was a toddler, he always radiated this aura of arrogance solely around me. But it was a hot and cold kind of situation. One moment he pretends I’m invisible and the next he’s teaching me how to draw alpanas during a house puja. Being a stubborn people-pleaser myself, I craved his approval and attention and ended up admiring him intensely when he finally did look at me, even if it was for a moment. So I grew up to be sixteen, holding my older brother in high regard all along.

At that point in time, I was head over heels in love with my then-boyfriend. I was captivated by him, obsessed with him. I ended up making him my whole universe, isolating myself from everyone else. I had never engaged with someone that extraordinary and received the kind of love he gave me- to get equal reciprocation from someone you’d worship, is incredibly rare. 

So when my brother, let’s name him Abel, befriended me through Snapchat (an app that is big on not saving chat history), I didn’t brood. I was too preoccupied with being a good girlfriend to notice any red flags. He talked to me about everything, but especially about my sex life with my boyfriend. Now here’s a little something about me: I’m the kind of girl who doesn’t shy away from topics that might be considered taboo, or inappropriate. I love to talk. So I talk, with an open mind and people around me who are living adversaries of the word “open” itself and everything in relation to it, jump to the conclusion that I’m signaling them. I guess I am to be blamed. I guess I need to close off my mind and not be myself to protect myself from harm, right? Of course.

To me, there’s no greater harm you can bring upon yourself than allowing others to control who you want to be. 

I believed that then, I believe it even now and I will continue believing so for the foreseeable future. Does that mean I would rather be myself in excruciating pain than be a ghost of others’ expectations in peace and calm? A thousand times over, yes. I’m not afraid of pain. I’m afraid of pain changing me.

I just summarized the first three stages of grooming. The first is Targeting, wherein perpetrators mark and exploit the victim’s vulnerabilities which may include emotional neediness, lack of friends, neglect, or chaotic home life. The second is Gaining Trust, during which the victim opens up and even the victim’s caregivers aren’t suspicious because the perpetrator appears trustworthy. And the third is, Fulfilling A Need. Perpetrators observe and start fulfilling the victim’s needs and tactics may include increased attention and affection towards the target. 

Did I need him, per se? No. I needed someone to accept me, guide me and listen to me. Did he read those needs and fulfill them? Yes.

My conversations with Abel were more often than not about physical intimacy, specifically with respect to my boyfriend. I thought that Abel was being a friend to me and I opened up to him, about what pleased me and what men liked and how I could satisfy my man. I was naive enough to think that he was actually trying to help me. In fact, he had already reached the fourth stage of grooming me, which I recognize now, so many years later. 

The fourth stage can be described as Isolating the Victim. 

The perpetrator assumes a role in the victim’s life that nobody else has been able to and ensures that he/she is put on a pedestal by the victim. Their relationship is cultivated and reinforced in such a manner that the victim feels like nobody else understands/loves him/her the way their abuser does. 

Abel had successfully isolated me. He was the only one in the family who made a conscious effort to figure me out, not judge me or my actions and completely accepted that I was sexually active at sixteen instead of scolding me or trying to control and stop me. Oh boy, the irony here. His control over me was so strong that I didn’t even realize I was being manipulated or controlled.

Slowly but steadily, he moved on to the most dangerous stage, which is Sexualizing the Relationship. Once emotional dependency and trust have been built, the perpetrator increasingly influences the victim to get physically intimate.

After a point of time, he confessed to being sexually attracted to me, when I was still a minor. I had just been through THE worst heartbreak and breakup of my entire life. Even now, the scars haven’t healed completely (I just got accustomed to them with time) and so many years later I’d still say that no other suffering compares, not even this experience I’m narrating. Those were the darkest days of my life. Naturally, he jumped at the opportunity to play my knight in shining armor. And I was so consumed with grief that I actually thought I had no one else to count on. 

A few months later, I turned eighteen and we all know what that means: he had no hurdles in front of him anymore. I was cooked just the way he’d like it and ready to be abused, with what would seem like “consent” at first glance.

Is there a bigger fool alive? I don’t think so. I allowed myself to be abused with consent and the most hilarious part is, it wasn’t even the first time this was happening. I had been groomed before.

The last stage is Maintaining Control. After the abuse has started, the perpetrator uses tactics like secrecy and blame to further fortify his/her control and retain the victim’s participation and silence. The victim may feel that the loss of the relationship, or the consequences of exposing it, will be far more damaging and humiliating than continuing the unhealthy relationship. 

Apparently, making out with me and touching me wasn’t enough for him, he wanted more. So I was raped.

When the food is resisting, isn’t well cooked and might potentially harm the person eating- but the person is just ravenous and insatiable, so he gulps it down nonetheless.

If you have made it this far, I’m sorry. You’re probably baffled and in disbelief. But I haven’t exaggerated, or cooked up, a single detail. I have presented everything to you as it is. If you think this is too triggering, or more than you can digest, I sincerely apologize. However, if some twisted part of you likes reading about trauma, I will deliver. Consistently.

Share this article with people or minors you might think need to be informed, or might be at risk. Contact me at ashmitaaa0609@gmail.com or on this Tumblr blog itself. I will be happy to help because I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy. Innocence needs to be preserved and today’s world makes it way too difficult to not get tainted- take a step to help the innocent.