Tag: blogger

Yoga mat beside open journal and bowl of fruit on wooden floor near window

Day 221: Trying to

Published on by wordhuesLeave a comment

have heard over and over again that to develop good behavior you don’t need to be perfect — you just need to be consistent. But that’s where I struggle. I always want things to be good because I don’t want people to find fault in what I do. I think I probably want their appreciation, but the main thing I worry about is someone saying that it’s bad. I don’t particularly want everyone to like what I do, but I really don’t want anyone to hate it. Is that a shallow thought? I end up spending way too much time trying to perfect the things I do, and at some point I feel it’s taking too much time. Then I decide it isn’t worth it, and my hope of starting a good habit fades away. With the pressure of work and studies, good habits fall out of the list of things that get done in the day.

I wanted to make exercise a daily thing just to keep myself healthy. I tried for three months, but the body aches kept getting worse and worse until I gave up. The thought of pain made me want to take a break. I kept thinking I would get back to it, but the truth is I never actually did.

I wanted to stop eating outside food and start cooking at home. I wanted to learn different recipes. I don’t have a refined palate — if it were up to me, I could probably live on instant food for the rest of my life. But I knew it wasn’t healthy, and I wanted to eat better. I managed to cook for two days in a week, and then I was done. By day two I felt exhausted and didn’t have the energy to try again.

Another thing I lose is my hobbies and passion projects. I wanted to start writing again. I’ve always wanted to write my own novel. When I was 13, I wrote the first chapter after months of creating characters and a plot line. It took me four months because I kept re‑editing it. But as schoolwork increased, I dropped the weekly writing practice.

I also wanted to continue improving my art skills. I started drawing whenever I found time — between school notes and random pieces of paper. Over time, I collected a lot of sketches stuffed into a file. I wanted to learn portrait painting, but I never put in the time to improve.

When it comes to sleep versus good habits, sleep wins. And when work and study come into the picture, hobbies fall off my mind. I am trying to stay consistent. I am trying to make a better version of myself. This year I thought I would start doing things every day, but it’s like I start and then stop, start again, go on for some days, and then stop again. Consistency is my Everest, and I am hoping that maybe this time around, I can conquer it.

Ornate broken mirror reflecting a sunlit forest with trees and autumn leaves

Evil or Experienced

Published on by wordhuesLeave a comment
Daily writing prompt
What villain actually had a good point?
View all responses

Stories are powerful teachers. For many of us, childhood tales from Disney painted morality in stark colors: the hero was pure, kind, and destined to win, while the villain was cloaked in black, ugly in appearance, and evil without reason. These portrayals ingrained in us the idea that people can be neatly divided into “good” and “bad.”

But when I first encountered the Grimm brothers’ tales, I realized how much had been softened in translation. In the original stories, true love did not always conquer, and good people did not always find happy endings. Villains were not born evil — they were often victims first, shaped by cruelty, misfortune, or betrayal. Their darkness was not innate but a reaction to the hand life dealt them.

This perspective challenges the simplistic binaries of morality. The eternal nature versus nurture debate becomes less important than the question of adaptation: how does a person respond to suffering? Some rise above it, choosing compassion despite pain. Others break under its weight, making destructive choices that ripple outward.

And here lies the unsettling truth: morality is relative. The villain in your story may be the hero in someone else’s. A person who hurt you may have protected ten others. Where do we draw the line — with the child who was tortured, or the adult who now tortures? The answer is never simple.

Modern storytelling embraces this complexity. Characters like Maleficent or Killmonger resonate because they are not evil for evil’s sake. They embody pain, injustice, and survival. We may not condone their actions, but we understand them — and that makes them hauntingly real.

The lesson villains teach us is sobering: no one in this world has your absolute good in mind. Even family, often the closest bond, may not always act with pure selflessness. This does not mean we should live in paranoia, but rather in awareness. Stories remind us not to close our eyes and blindly trust, but to see people as they are — complex, flawed, capable of both harm and kindness.

Person standing on rocky cliff edge facing sunset over ocean

Day 218: Falling, Failing and Finding a way to hold on

Published on by wordhuesLeave a comment

It has been more than 200 days since my diagnosis was confirmed, and the weight of it still lingers. I often feel like I’m falling—slipping into fear whenever I think about being alone. The thought of pain flaring up and causing me to stumble or collapse is always at the back of my mind. Independence, something I once took for granted, now feels fragile.

There are days when I feel like I’m failing. I want to reassure my family that I can manage on my own, that I am capable of caring for myself. Yet doubts creep in, whispering that I’m not strong enough. I don’t ask for extraordinary achievements; I only want to do the ordinary things—tasks that make up a normal life—without fear or dependence. But impatience grows as each month passes, reminding me that I’m not yet back to my old self. The mantra “You are better than before” has started to lose its power, and negativity presses harder against the walls I try to build.

And yet, I keep searching for a way to hold on. I remind myself that healing is slow, that years of damage cannot be undone in months. I look at people who seem to carry positivity like a shield and wonder how they manage it all day long. Their willpower feels extraordinary. If I could capture even a fraction of that strength, I believe I could reshape my life.

Holding on doesn’t mean ignoring the fear or denying the setbacks. It means acknowledging the falls, accepting the failures, and still choosing to keep moving forward. That, I think, is where resilience begins.

Do I have to choose one?

Published on by wordhuesLeave a comment
Daily writing prompt
Who is your favorite blogger to follow?
View all responses

I’ve never been one for favorites, but I do love to read—especially anything that provokes me to think differently. While I enjoy conversations with like‑minded people, I’m fascinated by those who hold views opposite to mine. I’ll admit I haven’t always been the most open‑minded person, but I’m learning. Listening to perspectives that challenge me forces my mind into places it wouldn’t normally go.

When I stumble upon a blog that resonates with my own experiences, I can’t help but keep reading. It makes me feel less alone, reminding me that my circumstances aren’t isolated. Others may not face things in the same sequence as I do, but their struggles echo mine. Sometimes the words of a stranger strike so deeply that it feels as though I know them. Without meeting or learning their life story, their writing creates a closeness that’s hard to explain.

On the other hand, bloggers whose views contradict mine often spark the most growth. They push me to consider perspectives I might otherwise dismiss. I believe that having a closed mind is one of the greatest failures. People who can hold strong opinions yet still make space for others are the ones I admire most. For me, it has taken effort to stop building walls when something doesn’t make sense and instead listen with the intent to understand.

This shift hasn’t been instant—it takes time to truly grasp another person’s point of view. But I’ve realized it would be hypocritical to expect others to listen to me if I don’t extend the same courtesy. Slowly, I’ve grown better at it. I now take time after conversations to reflect on where someone is coming from, and strangely enough, it has expanded the way I think. I’ve learned to understand circumstances without rushing to judgment, and even to form friendships with people whose thoughts run opposite to mine.

In the end, I wouldn’t say I have a single favorite blogger. Instead, anyone whose words move my heart and inspire my mind earns my attention.

Woman writing a detailed travel bucket list in a notebook at a wooden desk

Not Every Dream is a Waste of Time

Published on by wordhuesLeave a comment
Daily writing prompt
What’s a lesson you’ve learned recently that shifted your perspective?
View all responses

I grew up in a middle-class, working-class family where life revolved around work. My parents labored endlessly, and their idea of fun was taking us to the park. Even then, while we ran around carefree, they sat together on the bench, whispering about the next bill, calculating how to stretch every rupee, every dollar, every ounce of energy. Their lives were a constant negotiation between responsibility and survival.

For years, I believed my path would be no different. I imagined myself joining the cycle of endless work, exhausting my body and spirit to provide for my family, hoping that by the time age caught up with me, I’d have just enough to sustain myself. That was the script I thought I had to follow.

But something has shifted. These days, I’ve started to dream — not the fleeting kind that comes with sleep, but the conscious, deliberate kind that plants hope in the cracks of reality. I know there’s a high chance I may never achieve all that I dream of, and strangely, I’m at peace with that. Because I’ve realized it’s not the fulfillment of dreams that keeps us alive, but the act of dreaming itself. To imagine a life beyond the grind is not foolish; it’s a declaration that we deserve more than survival.

For the first time, I’ve made a bucket list. Ninety percent of the items feel out of reach, but they’re there anyway. To act as reminders of what I want, of who I am beyond the paycheck. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but someday. And even if someday never comes, the list itself is proof that I’ve allowed myself to hope.

Being practical is wise, yes. But sometimes, being impractical and daring to dream of possibilities is what makes life bearable. Dreams are the spark that light up the monotony, the quiet rebellion against a world that tells us to only endure. They are the whispers that say: you deserve better, you deserve more.

Person sleeping in bed under blue and gray blankets with bedside table lamp on

Rituals for better Sleep

Published on by wordhuesLeave a comment
Daily writing prompt
What do you do to improve your sleep?
View all responses

Sleep is one of the most amazing experiences you can have in a day. To enjoy uninterrupted rest, a good dream, and wake up feeling refreshed is truly a blessing.

I’m someone who struggles to get even the bare minimum of six hours of sleep every day, so I sometimes feel hypocritical talking about it. But if no one were judging me, I’d say the first step toward good sleep is to avoid anything that keeps the mind active before bed. Let the day mellow out so that the body’s exhaustion reaches the mind. When I need to get things done, I keep chanting “mind over matter,” and even if my body is exhausted, I find the strength to push through. Logically, doing the opposite should encourage sleep: once the mind shuts down, the body will follow.

One good habit I’ve maintained is not having coffee after 6 p.m.. Even when I feel extremely sleepy in the evening, if the clock shows a time past six, I stop myself. I drink very strong coffee, and it definitely affects me — I end up staying awake into the early hours. Along with coffee, I also restrict sugar. I don’t usually like sweets or chocolates, but on the days I do have them, I get that “sugar rush” — feeling excited and restless, which makes sleep harder.

Another thing I follow is wearing comfortable clothes. I’m not sure if it directly improves sleep, but I feel more relaxed when I’m comfortable. Good pillows and light sheets help too (though in winter, heavier sheets or a duvet are necessary).

Most importantly, I’ve started a new approach: going to bed when I’m actually sleepy. In those moments, the sleep I get is so good — deep, natural, and truly restorative.

A person sitting with head down surrounded by dark ghostly faces and swirling words like doubt, fear, and overwhelmed

Coping with the Emotional Currents

Published on by wordhuesLeave a comment
Daily writing prompt
What’s the best way to deal with negative thoughts?
View all responses

I am probably not the right person to answer this. People say you learn to handle things better over time, that practice makes you stronger. But in my case, the skill of dealing with negative thoughts has taken a downward trajectory. As a child, my approach was simple: I replaced negative thoughts with happy memories. That remains, to this day, the most effective tactic I’ve ever used. Since then, however, my strategies have spread like wildfire — often destructive rather than helpful.

Case in point: Strategy One — Compartmentalize and deal with it later. On the surface, this is a sound idea. I’ve learned to compartmentalize effectively, but the “deal with it later” part rarely happens. Instead, those compartments pile up. And there’s only so much space you can create before it all spills over, leading to an epic breakdown. I’ve had more than a few of those. You’d think I would have learned to process my bad thoughts at the right time, but that hasn’t been the case. Instead, I’ve scolded myself for being older now, telling myself I should simply be stronger.

Strategy Two — Analyzing the situation (or rather, overanalyzing). This one is even trickier. I start with the intention of figuring out what went wrong and how I can improve. But instead of constructive reflection, I turn cruelly critical. I list out, in excruciating detail, why I am the reason for everything wrong — not just in the situation, but in everything happening around me. That blame session drags on for days, until I’m mentally exhausted, and inevitably, another breakdown follows.

I don’t know if there’s a universally effective way to deal with negative emotions. I suspect it’s different for everyone. Some people probably use compartmentalizing and analyzing in healthy, productive ways. For me, though, the one thing that consistently works is writing. Whenever I feel overwhelmed, drowning in emotions, I grab a random piece of paper and pen and write it all down. The result is often depressing poems, but by the end, I feel lighter — as though a weight has lifted from my shoulders. Writing doesn’t solve the situation, but it acknowledges my feelings. And that acknowledgment makes all the difference.

Teenage girl writing in a notebook at a desk in a bedroom with Harry Potter poster and packed boxes

Day 211: Finding my Independence

Published on by wordhuesLeave a comment

Being the younger child in the family comes with a lot of privileges, but it also comes with its challenges. While I am extremely pampered because my parents literally want to do everything for me, they do not set high expectations because they don’t want me to feel burdened. They are always happy with whatever I achieve, no matter how insignificant it is.

I have now come to a stage in my life where I want to live independently. I want to have my own home — and yes, my parents’ home will always be my home. But being the younger child often means your opinions or choices are not really considered. I think I want a home of my own not for the freedom that comes with it, but because I want to decorate it the way I like. I want to finally be able to buy furniture that I love. I want to have my own office room that I can set up according to my preference, without someone constantly asking, “Do you really need this? Why this? Why that?” And of course, I want to walk around my house in the clothes I like. Since I’ll essentially be by myself, I doubt relatives will visit often, and there will be no judgment on how I look.

While the prospect of living separately excites me, it also brings with it the guilt tied to the “empty nest syndrome.” I sometimes just stare at my parents doing their regular tasks and notice the shift in the way they move. They have become slower. They have become quieter. They spend most of their days just resting, ironically scrolling through the phone or watching TV. I see them huffing and letting out exasperated sighs when they take a break after doing some tasks. They are together now, but I keep thinking: should one of them leave, how will the other manage? Would it be right for me to leave them too?

But on the other hand, I’ve received very fitting advice: “You can love and care for them, but it is not your responsibility to fix their life.” It is true — parents are the most resilient class of people. Their world keeps changing, and somehow they adapt. They may not adapt in the way you believe is right, but they find a way to adjust to their new life.

And so, I return to my desire to finally break free from the nest and find a place of my own in this world.

Woman walking on sandy path toward ocean sunset with coastal cliffs

Insides Intuition

Published on by wordhues1 Comment
Daily writing prompt
What’s a time you followed your gut and it turned out to be exactly right?
View all responses

For most of my life, intuition felt like a mystery. People spoke about “gut feelings” as if they were natural guides, but for me, thinking on my feet was never my strength. I second‑guessed myself constantly, replayed situations in my head, and often realized too late that I’d missed the emotional undercurrents of what was happening.

That pattern had consequences. In one relationship, my first instinct told me something was wrong. But instead of listening, I doubted myself. I convinced myself that maybe I was the problem, and in doing so, I stayed far longer in a toxic situation than I should have. My hesitation to trust my gut became a trap.

Over time, though, I began to notice something important: those initial instincts weren’t random. They were signals. When I ignored them, I regretted it. When I honored them, I avoided unnecessary pain. Now, whenever I get that uneasy feeling, I give myself permission to walk away. I don’t let the sword of “you may regret this” scare me into suppressing my feelings and making choices that would eventually hurt me.

The difference has been profound. Trusting my intuition has helped me sidestep decisions that would have drained me, and it’s given me a sense of confidence I didn’t have before. It doesn’t mean I act impulsively; it means I respect the quiet voice inside me that says, “This isn’t right.”

Intuition isn’t magic — it comes from experience and paying attention to the world around you. For me, learning to trust it has been a journey of reclaiming self‑respect. Now, when my gut tells me something’s off, I listen. And more often than not, it’s the best decision I can make.

Happily Ever After

Published on by wordhuesLeave a comment
Daily writing prompt
What’s something you used to believe as a kid that seems ridiculous now?
View all responses

We grow up surrounded by Disney movies and teen rom-coms that promise us neat endings. The protagonist faces heartbreak, stumbles through challenges, and then almost magically everything falls into place. Success, love, and a perfect life all right on cue. But real life doesn’t roll the credits after the happy ending. It keeps going, with new struggles waiting just around the corner.

Life is rarely a straight path to happiness. Some days we fall and don’t get back up right away. We feel drained, exhausted, and overwhelmed, as if the world is crashing down. Yet, when we muster the courage to rise again, we taste fleeting victories — moments that remind us why we keep trying. But soon enough, another challenge appears, and the cycle begins again. Happiness isn’t permanent; it’s a series of short-lived sparks. The trick is to hold onto those sparks, to cherish them, and to share them with the people we love. When their days feel heavy, we can offer them moments of light, just as they do for us. These exchanges of joy are what make the struggle worthwhile.

If life were always happy, we’d stop appreciating it. It’s the contrast, the bitter alongside the sweet that gives happiness its meaning. The setbacks sharpen our gratitude for the good days. The heartbreaks make love more precious. The failures make success more satisfying. I may never get the “happily ever after” promised in the movies. But I’ve learned that life isn’t about one grand ending. It’s about finding happiness in the everyday — in laughter, in resilience, in love, and in the courage to keep trying.