My Musings – Page 26 – Not your ordinary tales

The Plan Was Never the Problem. I Was.

There’s a notebook on my shelf, expensive and barely touched. Its first page holds promises carefully written, goals mapped out in color-coded precision—a vivid picture of a life that could easily fool anyone into thinking I had things completely under control. But those crisp lines and neatly drawn timelines don’t show the abandoned afternoons, when enthusiasm faded and doubt crept in, whispering that maybe I wasn’t cut out for the quiet persistence the plan demanded. I told myself I was agile, smartly pivoting when necessary, moving …

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The Day I Followed My Want Into a Wall

No one tells you how quietly a week can slip by when you don’t leave the house. It was a Tuesday. The kind that feels like a placeholder. I hadn’t showered. My inbox had fourteen unread emails—twelve marked urgent by people with no sense of proportion. The fruit in the fridge was fermenting into a science project. My husband stood near the sink, staring at a leaking tap like it owed him money. And I wanted a croissant. Not just a bite. A mission. The flakiest, warmest, crisp-on-the-outside croissant, possibly filled with almond cream …

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Forgiveness Isn’t a Group Project

There’s something strangely comforting about planning what you’ll say to someone who hurt you. You rehearse it in your head—maybe in the shower, maybe while pretending to listen during a work call. You imagine the shock on their face, the guilt finally catching up to them. You picture them saying, “I had no idea I did that to you. I’m sorry.” And just like that, your pain is validated, softened, maybe even erased. Except that’s rarely how it goes. More often, the pain sits untouched while you wait for an apology that may never come. You …

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will you know it’s me?

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When “Being Impressive” Becomes a Cage

I never thought doing things I genuinely loved—things that brought me joy—could leave me feeling so hollow. That rush of reaching the summit, the high of ticking off goals, the discipline of sticking to a plan—it made me feel powerful. Unstoppable. Like I was building a life full of purpose. I was doing hard things. And that became my identity. But somewhere along the way, it stopped feeling like joy and started feeling like performance. If I wasn’t achieving something remarkable, it felt like I didn’t know who I was. Slowing down didn’t …

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The Version of Her That Chose

Nobody noticed when she started changing. There wasn’t a grand moment or a speech or a meltdown. No cutting bangs or quitting jobs. Just a quiet shift that began somewhere small — like waking up earlier than she needed to. Her name was Meera. Thirty-something. Had tried being everything to everyone and still felt like she was failing at both. She wasn’t dramatic about it. That wasn’t her style. She just carried a tiredness in her bones that no nap or vacation could fix. She didn’t hate her life. That’s what made it trickier. She had …

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