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...