Growing up as a person of Indian descent, it is ingrained in you that when it comes to having a child—a boy is better than having a girl.
Dear My Main Man, I write to you because out of every helping hand I have received in this world, yours is the one with the most impact. You receive the least amount of credit and praise for the things you do. You’ve always stood back and let me shine or run in the rain knowing I always get caught up in a storm. You’re always stepping in when I call for you, knowing you can’t be more than a few feet away ready to comfort me in your arms as you have been doing for years. It’s time that light radiates on who you are and the love that you have shown me.
From the day you are born, the world may seem like it is pitted against you and I will fight so hard for that not to be true. I wish for you to look up to the sky and see endless possibilities with no one to hinder you.
A good girl, she is a sweetheart to everyone around her. She is every man's dream, every mother's pride. She is a trophy wife and a trophy daughter. She is the prize that everyone wants to posses and show off to the society as their personal achievement. She is a validation to someone's correct choice and someone's perfect upbringing.
To all those mother-in-laws who feel the need to control, manipulate, and put their daughter-in-laws through some sort of hazing ritual, here is my letter to you.
For the longest time, I dreaded this number, let alone write an entire article about it. Since the days to my thirtieth birthday are nearing, and I find myself meticulously judging every pore on my skin, I realize that the present is a passing of time that happens to be thirty years!