The Untold Stories

You know, some moments pass so quietly, you don’t realize their weight until you pause and truly feel them. Two days back, my mum, my boyfriend, and I went out for a simple walk. There was no special occasion, no particular plan. We just shared a need to step out together. And in the middle of that ordinary evening, something extraordinary happened. I watched my boyfriend gently reach out and hold my mum’s hand to steady her as they walked. It wasn’t a grand gesture. It wasn’t meant for a photograph or anyone’s attention. It was natural, effortless — and in that small, tender act, the world seemed to slow down around them. I instinctively took a photo. And when I looked at it later, I saw more than just a captured moment. I saw my heart. Because if I’m being honest, when I first introduced them, I carried a quiet kind of fear. It's not because I doubted him, but because I cared so deeply about how they might connect. I wanted them to feel at ease with each other. To sha...

I’ve been meaning to write about this for a while, but every time I open social media, it keeps showing up again and again. And it hurts a little more every time. I’ve seen women getting cheated on — not just by boyfriends, but by fiancés, and even husbands. What’s shocking is that these aren’t couples who look unhappy. Some of these women are probably the most beautiful women you’ll ever see. Some of these men have written books, poems, and long posts about how much they love their partners. They flood their feeds with cute pictures and long, cheesy captions about how in love they are. And then, behind all that, their eyes are still wandering. Probably always have. And I don’t get it — how? How can someone have everything and still betray it? How can someone promise the world to a person, make them feel safe, only to go behind their back? It scares me sometimes. Even though I trust my boyfriend and he’s nothing like that, it still creeps into my mind. What if one day? What...

It’s strange how a single line from a song can find the exact place you’ve been trying to hide from. That’s how I felt when I heard Half A Man by Dean Lewis for the first time. “But how am I supposed to love you when I don’t love who I am?” That line hit right into my heart. Not because they were beautiful or well-written — but because they were me. Word for word, feeling for feeling. It felt like someone reached inside me, grabbed the mess I’ve been hiding, and said it out loud. I’ve carried this heaviness inside for a long time. Most people won’t see it. I laugh, I talk, I act like everything’s fine. But inside, I fight this voice that constantly tells me I’m not enough. That I'm too insecure, too uncertain to be loved properly. And when you feel like that, being in love with someone who sees you as everything is both beautiful and terrifying. Because you start to wonder how can I hold onto something this good, when I’m not even sure about myself? How do I give someon...

There’s this quiet kind of pain that hits when you put your heart into something, but nobody really notices. You share what you made, hoping someone will see it, feel it, or just get it. But the world stays quiet. Like you’re talking to an empty room. It’s not about wanting a standing ovation or people always hyping you up. It’s just hoping that maybe, somewhere, your words could connect with someone — even just one person. And when that doesn’t happen, yeah, it stings. Not because you regret doing it, but because it meant something to you. Maybe that’s just how it goes sometimes. Not everything gets noticed right away. Some things take time. Some things find their way to the right person when they need it the most. And while you wait, you keep doing your thing. You keep creating. You keep sharing your voice — not just for others, but for yourself. Because your voice matters, even if it only fills the quiet.

Sometimes, we all wear masks because it’s a lot easier to pretend everything is fine than to explain what's wrong. We force a smile on, laugh at the right moments, and tell everyone we’re okay even when we’re breaking into a thousand pieces inside. You know, It’s a strange kind of loneliness, to be surrounded by people but still feel invisible at your weakest. But in the middle of all this, if you have someone who looks past the jokes, the casual ‘I’m fine,’ and notices the sadness hiding in your eyes. A person who quietly reaches out, not with questions or heavy words, but with a simple presence that says, “I see you, even when you’re trying not to be seen.” And honestly,It's beautiful Because in this world where people often only hear your words but miss your feelings, you're lucky if you have someone who can read the pain behind your smile. They don’t need an explanation. They don’t push you to open up. They just stay. And that’s all we need sometimes. Someon...

When I first met my best friend’s parents, they were simply “her parents” to me. Someone who is kind and welcoming, but still people who belonged to someone else’s world and not mine. But over the years, they became like my own. I never imagined how their presence would quietly change parts of my life I didn’t even realize were empty. Her mom is someone I can talk to about things I wouldn't dare to bring up at my home . She listens, laughs at my weird stories, and somehow always knows the right thing to say when I’m having a rough day. And her dad is literally my second father. The way he drops me off like I’m his own kid, shows up with chocolates on my birthday, or secretly slips me pocket money like it’s no big deal — it matters more than he probably knows. Because in those moments, he fills a space inside me where my own father’s presence is missing. He doesn’t have to do any of it, but he does, and it means more than I could ever fully explain. And the best part? Th...

I never meant to say this out loud. But it’s been stuck inside me for too long. I miss you.  And it’s so stupid because you’re probably out there, not even thinking about me. Living your life like I never existed. And yet here I am, carrying this weight like an idiot. You weren’t supposed to do that to me. Not you. Not my best friend. I didn’t need you to fix my problems. I didn’t even need you to like the person I fell for. I just needed you to stay. To have my back when the world felt too heavy. To tell me, “I don’t agree with you, but I’m still here.” That’s all I wanted. But you chose to leave. You chose your ego. You chose to talk about me behind my back instead of talking to me. And the worst part is, even after all of it, even after knowing what you did, there’s this tiny, stupid part of me that still misses you. I hate how the songs we used to listen to still remind me of you. I hate that I sometimes catch myself wishing you’d text. I hate that some days, I want...

Yesterday, my sister was going through her old Google photos, and out of nowhere, she found a picture of our dad. We lost him when we were just kids. And for so long, we thought there wasn't a single photo of him left. Just stories people told us and a name that slowly became a memory. When my sister sent me that photo, I just sat there, staring at it. It felt weird — like looking at a stranger you’re supposed to love with your whole heart. I wished so badly that I could remember something. Anything. I was only in first grade when he died. I was so small, I don’t remember him at all. I don’t remember his face, how he smiled, or what his voice sounded like. I’ve got nothing. No memory of him being my dad. Then it hit me — I don't have a single photo with him. Not even one. And maybe that's why this emptiness always follows me around. So, I did something I’ve always wanted to do. I made a digital art with the help of ChatGPT — a picture of me beside him. A picture...

People are all talented in their own ways. Some figure it out when they’re kids. Some realize it as they grow up. I wasn’t sure what I was good at. I thought it was fine, that I’d know when I got older. Now, I’m about to turn 20 this year. And to be honest, I still don’t know. I still haven't figured it out yet. Sometimes it bothers me. Especially when I see people my age doing things they love, chasing big dreams, or being called talented. I sit and think — what about me? What am I good at? And I tell myself, perhaps I’ll find it this year or sometime sooner.  But If I don’t, maybe it's okay too. I’ll still have stories worth telling. Not about big talents or wild dreams, but about small moments, ordinary days, and quiet courage. And perhaps, that’ll be enough to call a life.

It's funny how people always assume, "she’s so easy-going,” "she doesn’t care much,” like it’s the easiest thing in the world. But what they don’t see are the nights she cried quietly, the days she spent overthinking every word, every look, every moment. And how many times she swallowed her pain inside because she didn’t want to be a burden. Just because someone smiles, stays calm, or laughs things off easily doesn’t mean they’re okay. Everyone’s fighting something. Everyone’s carrying stuff they don’t talk about. Some people are just good at hiding it. So be kind. Be gentle. Don’t assume their life’s been easy just because they make it look that way. You don’t really know what it took for them to still show up with a smile again.

Before college, I had this picture in my head of how things would be. I imagined having a big group of friends — we’d laugh on the way to class, go on spontaneous trips, hang out at cafes and restaurants, basically living the kind of life you see in movies. But honestly? It's not really like that. Sometimes, you don’t find the friendships you expected. You can be surrounded by people in a class but still feel completely alone. You wish you had a group to sit with, to share inside jokes and random conversations — but it doesn’t always happen as easily as you’d hoped. Back in school, making friends felt simple and natural. You just clicked with people. Now, it feels harder and the connection feels a little distant, a little formal. I do have friends in college, and they’re good people. But it’s not quite like the friendships I had before. The people around me now might not fill the space of my school friends, but they still matter in their own way. It just takes time to b...

I don’t remember when it happened. I don’t remember the exact moment, or the reason why. But somewhere along the way, I lost her. The little girl I used to be. I was a happy child. I was always smiling, laughing at silly things. I was happy with the people around me, happy with the small things life gave me. I didn’t overthink, I didn’t hold on to people too tightly. If someone stayed, it was fine. If someone left, it was okay too. I didn’t carry the weight of people’s actions on my heart. I just lived. I was happy in my own world. But as I grew older, something changed. And honestly, I don't know what triggered this change. I became anxious and insecure. I started doubting myself in ways I never did before. I wasn’t that fearless little girl anymore — the one who would speak without worrying about how it sounded, or do something without caring how it might turn out. Now, my mind is full of constant questions. Am I enough? Should I say this? Should I stay quiet? Will th...

There are days when everything feels like it’s falling apart — and honestly, it’s one of those days for me. I wanted this summer to be different. I wanted to do an internship, learn something new, add a line to my resume, and feel a little better about where my life is going. But no matter how hard I try, nothing is working out. Every application feels like it’s being thrown into a void. Every day feels like another reminder that I’m not good enough, or maybe not lucky enough. And it hurts more than I expected it to. I don’t even know what’s wrong. Is it me? Is it bad timing? Or is life just being difficult for no reason? Everything feels weirdly out of place. My mind’s a mess. My heart feels heavy. And I feel like I’m standing somewhere in the middle of nowhere, with no idea where I’m supposed to go next. I used to believe things eventually work out. But right now, I’m just so tired. Tired of hoping, tired of acting fine when I’m not. Tired of this constant emptiness. I’m ...

I’ve never been anyone’s first choice. I was always the extra, the afterthought, the one people remembered when there was no one else. Then he came into my life and changed everything. He makes me feel seen when everyone else made me feel invisible. He makes sure I’m okay, wipes my tears, holds my hand like it’s the safest place in the world. And for the first time, I feel like I belong to someone. But it terrifies me. What if one day he stops loving me? What if he wakes up and decides he’s had enough? What if I become a memory he doesn’t want to carry anymore? I hate how my heart clenches every time he’s late to reply. How I overthink the smallest things. How I imagine losing him even when he’s still here. He’s never made me doubt. He loves me in all the ways I once begged others to. But my heart is so used to breaking, it’s scared to believe in forever. I’m happy with him. But the fear of losing him eats me alive. And the worst part is, I don’t even know how to stop it. O...

There are times where nothing makes sense. You wake up, go through the day, but at the end, you’re left wondering what is the point of any of it. It’s not sadness, not exactly. It’s more like emptiness or feeling broken. Everyone’s busy showing their highlights, their achievements, their perfect little moments while you're sitting here feeling useless in life. But here’s the truth: feeling lost isn’t a flaw in the system. It’s not a sign of failure. It’s a part of being human. Life is not always with fixed directions. There are no maps, no neatly marked paths for everyone to follow. You might feel confused and lost while trying to figure it out, but that’s okay. Some phases in life are meant for clarity. Some are meant for confusion. The important thing is to move through both. Take the time you need. Let yourself pause, question and reflect. You don’t have to force it. You don’t have to fake being okay. You’re not behind. You’re not broken. You’re just human, finding y...

We were the best couple in town. The kind of couple people looked at and smiled, wishing they could have something like us. Everything felt so beautiful. But then, things changed. I started noticing the way he laughed with her, a little wider. The way he held her hand, a little tighter. And his eyes… oh, his eyes — I could see them glow when he looks at her. A glow I once believed was only mine. I could clearly tell how much he loves her now. A part of me still wants to hold on to him. To pretend like nothing has changed and go back to the way we once were. But deep down, I know… I know it’s time to let him go. And maybe, someday, I’ll look back at us with a grateful smile for what we shared.