I’m really candid about things. I don’t sugarcoat things anymore. Of late, I’m just super straight forward about my own journey too. I’ve gone through a lot of shit, and that’s okay. That’s life. That’s experiences. They teach you, and sometimes you learn and sometimes it takes a few more times before the message really gets through.
Every time I think of uncomfortable truths, I realize how people appreciate hearing them way more than saying them. People want candidness and the “realness” but shy away from talking about their own challenges when their own ducks aren’t in a row. What do we get from seeming perfect and having it all together, when the reality is far from it? What do we get from protecting ourselves from vulnerability, if we’re yearning to be understood? What do we get from putting on a brave face when we want more candidness and raw realness from the world and everyone around us?
I’ve been thinking about why. During my earlier startup years, I felt a constant pressure to be perfect. I was young enough as it was, and a Brown female founder. There were tons of odds stacked against me, and I did not think I could allow myself to be anything less than the best. I was way tougher on myself than I was on anyone else. Constantly prodding, pushing, forcing myself to do more, to do better, to always, always be improving. Growth at any cost. And it cost me a lot. I was depressed, burnt out, and I suffered from health issues all round. The financial struggles didn’t make it easier. In so many ways, I had tied the mental image of myself and what it meant to succeed and it would not add up to my reality. That hurt. Instead of acknowledging the realities were outside factors (that weren’t in my control) were stopping me, I would internalize it all. I’d blame myself and try to do better, and try to protect those around me too. It was a big burden to bear. And it’s only years later, I’ve realized it wasn’t my burden to bear.
Maybe the need to protect comes from being an elder daughter in a South Asian household. Since I was a kid, I had to be responsible and take care of things. That’s just how it was. There was minimal room for error, and being the trophy child of the family only further enforced this need. My parents pushed me to do better, because they saw my potential and I heightened the efforts. I’m fond of my high school years, but gosh were they intense. My O-level and A-level exams were years seem like a blur - where getting A*s and As were the most important aspect to my life at the time. Felt as critical as life and death. My escape at the time was making time for books, Tumblr, and all the different fandoms I was a part of. They gave me the inspiration, belonging, and education that really did shape a lot of my personality. They became formative to who I was.
The need to shoulder responsibility and “taking care” of things became intuitive during my college years. I joined Student Government, started working, and on and on we went. It wasn’t miserable, don’t get me wrong. I loved every bit of it, and I would probably do it all over the same way if I had a second shot at life.
It’s just interesting how it all panned out in later years. I was 21 when I joined my first startup, and a cofounder at 22. I was working in an industry where everyone was way older than I was, and I was doing the best I could to navigate the world of startups and media. I often hear people say I seem older than I am. Having to grow up before your years, sometimes does that to you. I accept it peacefully now. Everyone’s got a different journey, and this was mine. One I picked and loved when I was going through it. But going back to responsibility, I’d often feel like I couldn’t fail. I didn’t allow myself to not have answers, at any point. I would prod and prong and work through possibilities in my alone time. I’d be supportive and bear that responsibility for everyone in my orb. And, it took a toll years later, where I’d take responsibility for shit that wasn’t my fault or wasn’t mine to deal with. It ended up building so much sadness and anguish and disappointment in me, and I’d feel so lonely. I look back now and think, if only I’d had the courage to be honest and do things differently. I know I’m being harsh on myself again. I did what I thought was best, and let’s be real - 21 - 25 is still mad young.
At 27, I’m still young. But, I give myself more grace and love. I’m okay with talking about the harsh realities and the lessons I learnt. And, acknowledging the far from perfect reality and challenges I had every step of the way. Coming to terms with the truth makes you stronger, not weaker. Facing reality heads-on is brave, and courageous, and it takes guts. If you’re going through something, I hope you realize you’re not alone. It’s okay to talk about it, and it’s okay to share it candidly. We all make this beautiful imperfect world, a bit less filtered and a bit more real, when we share our truths.
Peace, love, and good vibes.
Mashal
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Why do we put on a brave face when we want more candidness and raw realness?
It's just like you said - growing up too fast comes with a lot of responsibilities, and being an elder daughter who has to take care of others makes you take responsibility for things that are not even your fault.
I still constantly struggle with being perfect - being the perfect and trophy child that failure is my biggest fear.
And like you said, I'm learning to give myself more grace and to forgive myself for putting the blame on me every time.
Thank you for sharing this Mashal. It felt like an older version of me telling this version of me to forgive myself and stop internalizing other people's issues. I wish I could stop so much about being perfect and just live my truth but it's a gradual process.
Thank you Mashal.