We like to think of ourselves as rational beings — that we see the world as it is. But the truth is, we see the world as we are. Our minds are not passive recorders of reality; they are active editors. Every moment, the brain filters, selects, and interprets information to fit a story it already believes. What we call “truth” often becomes a reflection of what we want to be true.
Psychologists call this confirmation bias, the tendency to favor information that aligns with our existing beliefs while ignoring or discounting evidence that challenges them. It’s the reason why two people can experience the same event and walk away with entirely different conclusions. One sees hope, another sees failure; one sees love, another sees manipulation. The difference lies not in the event, but in the lens through which it was perceived.
This selective perception isn’t entirely our fault. The brain evolved to seek safety and consistency, not necessarily truth. When new information threatens our sense of self, relationships, or worldview, the subconscious mind often distorts it, to protect us from emotional discomfort. We filter reality to maintain internal stability.
But while this mental defense may provide short-term comfort, it can also trap us. It blinds us to growth, empathy, and understanding. When we only believe what we want to believe, we stop listening to others, and to ourselves.
Awareness is the first step toward breaking free from this illusion. To pause and ask:
“What if my perception isn’t the whole truth?”
“What belief am I protecting by refusing to see another perspective?”
True wisdom comes not from being right, but from being open to being wrong, to being challenged, and to seeing beyond our biases. When we allow our minds to expand beyond the familiar story, we don’t just see more of the world we see more of ourselves.
From “Stupid Housewife syndrome ” to Master’s Graduate: Rewriting My Life Story
There are some labels we never asked for, but somehow they get stitched into our skin.
Mine was “stupid housewife.”
It was a name given to me long before I even understood what it meant a gift from a patriarchal culture where a woman who speaks, questions, or dreams is seen as a threat. In a world where obedience was praised and silence was expected, my curiosity was treated as rebellion. My education, instead of being celebrated, was mocked. My ability to think out of the box made me “too much.”
And my voice? That made me “difficult.”
But life has a way of circling back. Two years ago, when I walked onto my university campus for my very first master’s class, that painful phrase echoed in my head like a shadow I couldn’t outrun. Stupid housewife. It whispered as I found my classroom. It followed me into lectures. It tugged at the edges of my confidence each time an assignment felt too big or a concept felt too unfamiliar. But I kept going. Not to prove them wrong but to prove myself right.
Week after week, class after class, I began to reclaim the parts of me that were buried under years of being underestimated. I learned, I grew, I evolved. Some nights I studied with tears in my eyes, feeling the weight of every stereotype that had ever crushed me. Other nights, I felt a surge of pride knowing that I was building a life that I chose.
And then last week, I stood in my convocation gown. The same words echoed again. But this time they didn’t land on wounded skin. They landed on strength.
Instead of hearing “stupid housewife,” I heard my own voice rise inside me:
“I did it.
I am worthy.
I am not stupid.
I never was.”
That moment was not just a graduation.
It was a liberation.
Every step I took across that stage carried the weight of the women who were silenced, discouraged, mocked, or dismissed. Every breath I took was a reminder that patriarchy does not get the final word, we do. And my degree, became a symbol of defiance, resilience, and self-belief.
To every woman who has ever been labeled, belittled, or boxed in:
You are not what they called you.
You are not the limits they placed on you.
You are not the story they tried to write for you.
You are allowed to rise at any age.
You are allowed to dream again.
You are allowed to reinvent your life even if it scares others.
Today, I stand tall not because they finally see my worth, but because I finally refuse to let their ignorance define me.
I am not a “stupid housewife.”
I am a woman who broke through the walls built around her.
I am a graduate.
I am resilient.
I am enough.
And so are you.
When the Storm Hit, I Saw Who Truly Stood With Me
Life has a way of revealing truths that remain hidden during our calmest seasons. When everything is smooth, people show us the version of themselves they’re proud of , the version they want us to see. But it’s during the storms, the unpredictable upheavals, that their real character quietly rises to the surface.
I learned this in the most painful way.
When COVID hit, the world felt like it was falling apart. Jobs were lost, businesses collapsed, routines vanished, and families everywhere were forced into survival mode. We faced a financial downturn, and like many others, we were shaken. But what hurt the most was not the loss of incomeit was the loss of someone I once believed would stand beside me no matter what.
My husband chose the lockdown as an opportunity to take me out of his life.
A time when the world was shutting down and fear was everywhere, he chose to shut the door on me too. When I needed partnership, he walked away. When I needed strength, he withdrew his. When the storm hit us, he didn’t stay to rebuild he used the storm as an exit route.
And that is when I realised a truth that became my turning point:
Someone who abandons you in their own storm will never be able to weather yours.
Someone who is not loyal to themselves can never be loyal to you.
For a long time, I blamed myself.
Was I not enough?
Was I too much?
Did I fail, or was I the reason?
But with time, as the dust settled, I realised something deeper: His decision had nothing to do with my worth and everything to do with his own inability to face life, responsibility, and truth.
Crisis doesn’t create character it reveals it.
A strong soul stands beside you, even shaking.
A weak soul escapes, even when you are holding on.
What he did was abandonment, yes. But it was also clarity.
It showed me:
Who he truly was behind the façade
What he feared facing
How shallow the foundation really had been
How deeply I had been carrying the emotional load alone
And in that painful realisation, something unexpected happened:
I found myself.
I learned that I could survive what I never imagined surviving.
I learned that I could rebuild with my own hands, my own energy, my own strength.
I learned that love does not mean losing yourself for someone who never knew how to value you.
Most importantly, I learned that being left behind doesn’t mean you are unworthy it means you were meant to walk forward without the dead weight that was holding you down.
Today, when I look back, I no longer see abandonment as a wound. I see it as a door that was necessary to close. Some people exit your life the moment responsibility enters because they were never meant to be part of your destiny beyond the easy days.
The storm didn’t break me.
It broke the illusion.
And from that truth, I rebuilt a stronger, wiser version of myself.
To anyone going through a season of loss or betrayal, remember this:
Those who stand with you only in sunshine were never your companions.
Those who walk away during the storm were never meant to walk into your future.
And those who stay those rare souls are the ones who truly understand what love, loyalty, and partnership mean.
I now live with this quiet strength:
If you leave me during my hard time, you don’t deserve me in my good time.
And if you abandon me during your own uncertainties, you were never trustworthy enough to walk this life with me.
Stand Tall: The Gita’s Lesson on Fighting for Your Rights and Truth”
There comes a time in everyone’s life when staying silent feels safer than speaking up when bowing down to what’s wrong seems easier than standing tall for what’s right. But silence, as the Bhagavad Gita reminds us, is not peace. It’s surrender to fear.
When Arjuna stood on the battlefield of Kurukshetra, he was torn between duty and emotion. He wanted to walk away. But Lord Krishna told him something powerful “This is your Dharma, Arjuna. Stand up and fight, not out of anger, but out of purpose.”
The Gita’s message isn’t about war it’s about inner strength. It’s about knowing when to stop running from your truth. Life will always test you through people who misuse power, through unfair treatment, through moments when you question your worth. But those are your Kurukshetra moments your chance to rise above fear and doubt, and claim your Haq, your right to live with dignity, respect, and self-belief.
Standing up for yourself doesn’t mean becoming hard or ruthless. It means refusing to let wrong define your destiny. It means knowing your values and not bending just to be accepted. When you choose truth over comfort, courage over silence, and self-respect over approval you step into your power.
The Gita teaches us: Act with integrity, without worrying about the results. Because real victory isn’t about defeating others it’s about defeating your own hesitation.
So fight the battles that matter the ones that make you grow. Raise your voice when something feels unjust. Defend your boundaries with grace. And never forget Krishna stands with those who stand for truth.
Choose Your Suffering Wisely: The Path to Real Power
Avoiding suffering is a dead end. No matter how hard we try to run from pain, life has a way of reminding us that it’s part of being human. You will suffer either way so the real question is: What are you willing to suffer for?
There’s a big difference between meaningless pain and meaningful sacrifice.
Meaningless pain keeps you stuck like staying in a job that drains you, holding onto a relationship that breaks you, or living a life that doesn’t feel like yours. You suffer, but it leads nowhere.
Meaningful sacrifice, on the other hand, is pain with purpose. It’s the discomfort of growth, the sleepless nights building your dream, the courage to walk away from what no longer fits, the discipline to keep showing up for yourself even when no one notices. That kind of pain builds power.
Purpose doesn’t remove suffering it gives it meaning. When you know why you’re struggling, the pain becomes bearable. It turns from something that breaks you into something that strengthens you. You stop asking “Why me?” and start thinking “What is this teaching me?”
So don’t waste your energy avoiding every bump in the road. Choose your suffering wisely.
Suffer for something that matters to your heart something that helps you grow into the person you were meant to be. Because there’s no life without pain, but there is life with purpose. And that makes all the difference.
Affirmation: May your pain be the price of your power, and your struggle the soil where your strength takes root.
The Mind’s Battlefield: From Fear to Inner Peace
Sometimes, our minds feel like battlefields thoughts clashing, emotions rising, fears echoing. We find ourselves fighting invisible wars, trying to silence the noise within. But here’s the truth: your thoughts aren’t your enemies. They are simply messengers. Your mind isn’t a storm to be controlled; it’s a sacred space a meeting point between love and fear, light and shadow, awareness and illusion.
The Psychology of Inner Conflict:
From a psychological perspective, fear is not a flaw. It’s the mind’s way of protecting us. The amygdala the brain’s alarm system reacts instinctively to perceived threats, both physical and emotional. When old wounds, insecurities, or uncertainties arise, the mind activates the same fight-or-flight response. Yet most of the time, the “enemy” isn’t real danger it’s our own resistance to what we feel.
When we label certain emotions as bad or wrong, we split ourselves internally. We start believing that parts of us must be silenced or suppressed. But the human psyche doesn’t heal through control it heals through compassion.
As psychologist Carl Jung once said, “What you resist, persists.” By meeting our fears with awareness instead of avoidance, we begin to integrate the fragmented parts of ourselves.
The Spiritual View: Love as the Answer
The Buddha’s journey beautifully mirrors this psychological truth. Sheltered as a prince, he was protected from life’s suffering until he witnessed sickness, aging, and death. That moment of confrontation not avoidance cracked open his heart and led him toward awakening. He didn’t seek to escape suffering but to understand it.
Spiritually, fear is not an enemy of love; it is a call for love. Every fearful thought is a doorway, inviting you to step into deeper awareness. When you observe your mind without judgment, you shift from being in the storm to witnessing it. You realize: you are not your thoughts. You are the awareness behind them.
Bridging Mind and Spirit
When you blend psychology and spirituality, you discover that peace is not the absence of fear it’s the ability to stay centered in love amidst it.
Acknowledge your thoughts instead of suppressing them.
Breathe through the discomfort instead of reacting to it.
Observe with curiosity instead of judgment.
Each time you do this, your nervous system learns safety. Your mind learns trust. And your spirit learns freedom.
Awakening to Stillness
Peace doesn’t arrive through control it unfolds through surrender. Stillness, awareness, and compassion are your allies. When you make peace with your inner world, the outer world begins to reflect that peace back to you.
You are not broken. You are simply remembering what it means to be whole. Whether or not you follow the teachings of Buddhism, the energy of awakening that gentle, quiet power lives within you. It’s the voice that whispers beneath the noise: You are safe. You are enough. You are free.
You Are Whole. You Are Sacred
There comes a moment in our journey when life gently or sometimes forcefully guides us back to ourselves. A sacred pause where we are asked not to seek outside, but to remember what has always lived within.
You are being guided to the gateway of your sacred self. This is not about becoming someone new, but about returning home to the truth of who you are beneath the stories, the labels, and the expectations that the world has placed upon you.
So often, we mistake our vulnerability for weakness. We hide our softness, guard our hearts, and silence our truths. But what if those tender parts of you the ones you try to protect are the very keys to your strength? What if they are sacred doorways leading you back to your essence?
The parts of you that tremble in fear or ache in longing are not broken they are simply asking to be held, seen, and loved. When you honor them, you begin to remember your wholeness.
If lately you’ve been feeling separate from love or searching for belonging, know that your angels are whispering: look within. Love is not something to be found it is something to be remembered. It is the divine spark that has never left you, even in your darkest hours.
Somewhere along your path, you may have absorbed stories that told you otherwise that you are not enough, not beautiful, not powerful. But those are illusions, temporary shadows that have no truth in the light of your soul.
The truth is simple: You are beautiful. You are powerful. You are sacred.
When you begin to embrace every part of yourself the joyful and the wounded, the certain and the lost you open the gateway for divine flow to move through you. The universe does not live outside you; it breathes through you. Every breath, every heartbeat, every tear is a reminder that you are connected to something vast and holy.
Take a moment now. Close your eyes.
Visualize a drop of divine light descending from the heart of the universe into your being. Feel it flow through your body, washing away old stories and fears. Let it settle in your heart, in your womb, in your soul balancing, cleansing, and rekindling your creative power.
This is your sacred reconnection the remembrance that you were never broken, never less, never lost.
You are whole. You are sacred. And when you live from that knowing, life begins to flow again not from striving, but from surrender; not from fear, but from love.
When the Mind Becomes a Storm
There are days when the mind feels like an endless ocean dark, deep, and unpredictable. A single thought drifts in like a wave, gentle at first, then swelling into something larger, heavier, almost impossible to contain. One worry becomes two. One doubt becomes a chorus. And before you realize it, you’re no longer floating you’re sinking.
Allowing yourself to drown in a negative mindset is not just about sadness or fear. It’s about surrendering to an illusion. The illusion that your present darkness defines your entire being. It’s the slow forgetting of your own light.
Negativity has a quiet way of convincing you that the world mirrors your mood. It filters every experience, painting even the most beautiful moments in dull shades. You start to believe that this heaviness is who you are, when in truth, it is only passing through you.
But awareness changes everything. The moment you recognize, “I am thinking these thoughts, but I am not these thoughts,” you begin to rise. You create space a sacred distance between yourself and the storm.
You don’t have to silence the noise; you only have to stop identifying with it. You don’t have to fight the current; you just need to stop letting it define your direction. Healing begins not in resistance, but in gentle observation in remembering that even beneath the roughest waves, the ocean is still and infinite at its core.
So when your mind feels heavy, remind yourself: you are the awareness behind the thoughts. You are not drowning; you are watching the water move. And in that awareness, you begin to float again.
Affirmation:
“I am not my thoughts. I am the calm presence beneath them.”
Reflective Question:
When was the last time you noticed your thoughts pulling you under and what helped you rise back to the surface?
I Started Living at 50: The Quiet Awakening of a Woman Who Forgot Herself
For half a century, I existed but I wasn’t truly living. My life moved within the walls of duty: housework, laundry, grocery lists, school runs, and meals to prepare. I did everything that was expected of a “good woman.”
Society taught that a woman’s purpose was simple to marry, have children, and stay with her family.
Do not contradict.
Do not argue.
Do not complain.
And if you dream, do it quietly, because dreaming is useless.
I married young at 24 and became everything society wanted me to be a wife, a mother, a housekeeper, a quiet companion. Though I had house help, my days were consumed with endless chores, errands, and responsibilities. My husband worked and traveled often. When he was home, he came back tired, ate in silence, and sat in front of his laptop until late at night.
And then, slowly, the criticism began.
I was “boring” for watching TV in the evenings.
He said I had “nothing left to say.”
But how could I have anything left, when every time I spoke, my words met silence? When my thoughts were buried under someone else’s indifference?
So I silenced myself.
Because “family is sacred.”
Because “you have to be patient.”
Because my mother’s voice echoed, “Good girls don’t argue or question their husbands. Your efforts will be recognized one day.”
That day never came. What came instead was realization after being back stapped by my loved ones.
At 50, I woke up. Not suddenly, but like dawn after a long, dark night. I realized that life wasn’t meant to be endured it was meant to be lived. I began to see myself not just as a wife or mother, but as a person with dreams, desires, and a voice.
Today, I’m learning to live not for approval, not for perfection, but for peace.
To all women reading this: it is never too late to begin again.
You can start at 30, 40, 50, or beyond.
Your story isn’t over it’s just waiting for you to claim it.
The Bridge of Invisible Efforts: Trusting the Work You Cannot See
There are days when you give your best and yet feel like nothing is moving. You try, you show up, and still, life looks unchanged as if everything you do disappears into the stillness. But what you can’t see is that every small action, every quiet decision to keep going, is laying down another plank on the invisible bridge that’s carrying you forward.
Progress doesn’t always look like a breakthrough. Often, it looks like repetition. It looks like patience, discipline, and faith in something you cannot yet see. We are so used to measuring success by visible milestones that we forget life’s real changes are slow and silent. They don’t make noise when they happen; they simply unfold when the time is right.
The bridge you are walking on today was built by the tired, determined version of you yesterday the one who didn’t give up when no one noticed their effort. Every time you stayed consistent, every time you kept hope alive, you were building strength beneath the surface.
Growth rarely feels like growth when you’re in it. It feels uncertain. It feels ordinary. It feels like showing up when you’d rather stop. But these moments are the foundation of transformation the quiet shaping of your future self.
So when you feel like you’re not moving, remember: you are. Every step you take no matter how small is part of the bridge leading you somewhere meaningful.
Trust this:
Your unseen efforts are not wasted.
Your quiet persistence is not invisible.
One day, you’ll look back and see that what felt like a thousand small nothings was, in truth, everything.
SELF LOVE AND SOUL HEALING 