One day, someone will skim through my life in a 300-word obituary, awkwardly mispronounce something at my funeral, and quietly wonder if the samosas were too oily. A few people will show up out of obligation. Some won\u2019t make it because their dog got sick or a client meeting ran late. The people I loved will huddle around, say nice things, maybe even cry a little. And then they\u2019ll go back to work, to errands, to Netflix. Not after months. Not even weeks. Sooner than I\u2019d like to admit.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That used to sting. Now, it feels strangely freeing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Because if everyone\u2019s going to move on, I don\u2019t see the point of living a life that isn’t completely, unapologetically mine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I spent too much time trying to be the kind of person people don\u2019t forget. Polite. Generous. Useful. I thought if I could just be enough\u2014enough of a good friend, a good daughter, a good partner\u2014I\u2019d earn permanence. I thought I could elbow my way into someone\u2019s forever just by being indispensable.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But permanence is a fantasy sold to those who fear their own irrelevance. The truth is: people forget. Even the kindest, most well-meaning ones. Their calendars refill. Their inboxes overflow. Grief fades into background noise. So if I\u2019m going to be forgotten anyway, I\u2019d rather not be remembered for being agreeable.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I\u2019d rather be remembered for being alive.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
So I\u2019ve started living like the whole thing\u2019s on borrowed time. Saying no without decorating it with justifications. Choosing silence over small talk. Leaving dinners early when the company drains me. Wearing red lipstick to a grocery run just because I feel like it. Making decisions that make sense only to me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Not in a reckless way. In a this-is-my-one-wild-life<\/em> kind of way.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I\u2019m no longer interested in constructing a legacy that impresses people I barely know. I want to wake up excited about my own life, not rehearse a performance for someone else\u2019s applause. Legacy has become such a loaded word, twisted into branding. These days, I\u2019m more interested in honesty than legacy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The most radical thing I\u2019ve done lately is let people down\u2014and not chase after their approval.<\/p>\n\n\n\n That\u2019s what no one tells you: peace often looks like disappointing the wrong people.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I don\u2019t need to be liked by everyone. I don\u2019t need to be remembered by everyone either. But I do need to look at my own reflection and think, Yes. You told the truth with how you lived.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n If I\u2019m going to be a short story in someone else\u2019s memory, I want to make damn sure I was the main character in my own.<\/p>\n\n\n\n And if they\u2019re going to forget me, I might as well remember myself\u2014completely, defiantly, and on my own terms.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" One day, someone will skim through my life in a 300-word obituary, awkwardly mispronounce something at my funeral, and quietly wonder if the samosas were too oily. A few people will show up out of obligation. Some won\u2019t make it because their dog got sick or a client meeting ran late. The people I loved […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_genesis_hide_title":false,"_genesis_hide_breadcrumbs":false,"_genesis_hide_singular_image":false,"_genesis_hide_footer_widgets":false,"_genesis_custom_body_class":"","_genesis_custom_post_class":"","_genesis_layout":"","pgc_sgb_lightbox_settings":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[52,14],"tags":[9],"class_list":{"0":"post-3484","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","6":"category-learnings","7":"category-life","8":"tag-death","9":"entry"},"featured_image_src":null,"featured_image_src_square":null,"author_info":{"display_name":"vasudha","author_link":"https:\/\/ideaweb.me\/blog\/author\/vasudha\/"},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/ideaweb.me\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3484"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/ideaweb.me\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/ideaweb.me\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ideaweb.me\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ideaweb.me\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3484"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/ideaweb.me\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3484\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3486,"href":"https:\/\/ideaweb.me\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3484\/revisions\/3486"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/ideaweb.me\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3484"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ideaweb.me\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3484"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ideaweb.me\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3484"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}