A typical day in my life looks somewhat like this:
- I begin my morning listening to a podcast on Spotify or a Ted Talk which might inspire me throughout the day.
- I then take some time to make my To-Do list for the day, check my calendar for all the meetings lined up, and re-check my documents for them.
- I enjoy the travel time to the office by reading on my Kindle, or one of the many books I’m always carrying around.
- Only when I reach office do I check my Instagram feed, or reply to messages from friends and readers.
A day at work is really busy, with my laptop groaning under the weight of the innumerable documents I’m simultaneously working on. I work in the International Education industry in India, managing a group of four schools with two international boards. For a country with the second-highest number of international schools, I am involved in a lot of core policy decisions, curriculum planning and academic management across schools.
Once I’m done with work, I tick things off my planner which I have accomplished for the day and head home.
I have just enough time to change into my dance outfit before I have to rush for either Contemporary or Jazz, the two dance forms I train in. After sweating it out for an hour or more, I come back home.
Instead of plonking down on my bed, exhausted, I reach for my MacBook. Because it’s now time to work on my novel or write articles for Medium. I either edit chapters of my novel, or draw outlines for new article ideas I might have.
Over the weekend, there is a lot more writing and studying for a second Masters degree that I’m working for. Weekends are also for working with an NGO in the city, where we mentor children from underprivileged backgrounds.
This is what my life looks now.
. . .
To some people, it might seem borderline crazy. But to me, it is fulfilling. Every second that I spend in all the activities my life is filled with, I feel more satisfied with myself.
Each time I tick something off my planner, I feel a little burst of happiness.
Just six months ago, my life looked nothing like this.
. . .
In early 2019, I had the wedding of my dreams. I married the love of my life, who in my eyes, was the most gorgeous and successful man I had ever met. The relationship felt so unreal, that I became obsessed with his success and his dreams, instead of asking myself what my goals in life were.
I was so blinded by the love in our relationship that the only goal of my life became making him happy, sorting out his issues, supporting his career and making him the center of my universe.
What I failed to realize during our relationship was that my identity had gotten lost in the middle of putting him on a pedestal. A few days ago, I was listening to a podcast where Lilly Singh (Superwoman) was sharing her success story. A line that she said stayed with me long after the podcast was over. She said,
“I had my wedding song picked out, even before I knew what I wanted to do in life, what I wanted to be in life, and what I wanted to use my voice for.”
This thought resonated with me because I saw myself in what she had said. I had picked out my wedding song the minute my husband and I had started dating, while I had absolutely no idea where my teaching career was headed.
. . .
I didn’t care much for a job or which grade I was teaching, or whether I was feeling the same passion as I had felt while studying for my Masters’ degree in English Literature.
While studying literature, I had big dreams for myself. I was passionate about real-world issues such as racism, the unequal pay scale for men and women, the male gaze, years of tradition and culture which led to discrimination. I used my voice in college to raise these issues to the forefront with my research papers and dissertation.
I did not even realize when I lost sight of all the dreams and all that I had worked for, once I met my husband. He was married to his job, his goals were clear and he was a workaholic. Since the beginning, he made it clear that his job was the most important thing to him, because he had so much to achieve in life.
Even though he didn’t ask me to, I slowly began moulding myself into a domesticated version of myself, which I couldn’t see, but I would have hated.
After we got married, I spent hours at work thinking about what I would cook for him in the evening because as a little girl I had always been taught that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach.
I spent the nights in silence, enveloped in loneliness, while he worked. I gave up on dancing and writing because I had to keep the house clean, arrange the room for his arrival after work, serve him hot dinner each night.
I didn’t care about which grade I was teaching anymore or what I was teaching. I didn’t care how much money I was making, because we were one unit and his money was also mine. I distanced myself from my friends, because I simply had no time away from thinking and dreaming about him, even though I was married to him.
. . .
A month after our wedding, his accident was a hard slap on the face for me. I knew he wasn’t going to make it and eventually he did pass away. The only feeling I had once he was gone was emptiness.
I was feeling empty not because the love of my life was dead, but because with him, my identity and the purpose of my life had also died.
I no longer had the security of our home, because I couldn’t afford it. I had spent all my savings on furnishing our dream house. I had no job because I had to move back to my home city in the middle of the school year.
I just didn’t know who I was anymore, without him.
. . .
In the last five months, I have built a new life for myself, filled with work that matters to me and other things which, define my life’s purpose. I miss him every single day, so much that sometimes I still feel like ending my life.
In those moments, I stop for a moment and just let myself take a little bit of credit for getting up on my feet again. This is when I realized that I do wish I could turn back time and save my husband’s life, but would I give all that I have made for myself now?
Absolutely not.
A lot of us, no matter what gender, tend to lose ourselves in our relationships. Everything else doesn’t matter in the light of validation and love from the significant other.
Although I do believe in love, and the fact that it is the most powerful thing in the world, I have realized that love can be powerful only when you don’t put yourself down to make your partner feel better.
Underplaying your goals and ambitions, putting a stop on your dreams, letting yourself feel under confident, putting your partner on a pedestal are all ways of unloving yourself.
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And if you cannot love yourself, how can you expect love and respect from someone else?
The price that I paid for learning to love my life again was too high, and I do not know if it will be worth it or not. All I know is that this time when I think about sharing my life with another man, it will be sharing my life, not making my life all about him. An old colleague sent me a text a few days ago asking, “Did you rebuild your empire?”
And I replied, “Rebuilding it piece by piece, and not leaving it at the mercy of anyone else this time.”
The one thing I can take away from my experience is that my life is my own first, and till I don’t embrace every bit of it, there cannot be space for a healthy relationship of any kind. Berating myself or feeling inferior will only add to my anguish and insecurity in the relationship as well.
Loving my own life is the first step to establishing my self-worth, without which I cannot hope to nurture love for anyone else. I hope that everyone reading this will take away something credible for their own selves too, from my experience.
Because I will keep sharing it, in the hope for making stronger people and a better world.
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Previously published on Medium.com.
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Photo credit: By Arnel Hasanovic on Unsplash