The cost of becoming yourself

On breaking the rules you were raised on.

I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror as I step into my mother’s house for the first time since coming back. I look the same.

Same warm, rounded features. Same face. But I wonder - can they tell? Can they see that I’m no longer the woman I was supposed to be?

That I have done things that were never meant for women like me.

No one ever sat me down to explain what a good woman should be. But I always knew exactly what she wasn’t.

She doesn’t travel alone.
She doesn’t hold anyone’s gaze.
She doesn’t wear revealing clothes.
She doesn’t say no.
She isn’t headstrong, charismatic, or loud - especially not with opinions that could make others uncomfortable.

For years, I followed these unspoken rules. I didn’t see it as programming. I saw it as upbringing. After all, my parents had worked tirelessly to build a life in London - something so many could only dream of. My freedom was a privilege, one I should be grateful for.

But looking back, I didn’t actually have freedom. The fear of being corrupted ruled what I was and wasn’t allowed to do. I missed out on school trips, events, and opportunities. My world was small.

As time passed, I started to question things because it became harder to stay in alignment.

It started when I looked at my parents’ lives and, with brutal clarity, realised that I didn’t want their version of happiness. If I didn’t want their life, why was I still living by their rules?

That was the moment I started stepping beyond the invisible lines drawn for me.

Since then, I’ve lived alone in places my family, maybe even my entire lineage, never set foot in. I’ve made choices that have filled me with pride and, sometimes, shame. But they were my choices.

And yet, I still feel unmoored. Around my white friends, I feel almost conservative, vanilla. But with my desi friends, I feel like I’ve fallen off the edge. Like I’ve traded belonging for freedom.

When I travel solo, even if it's just a short two-hour journey from home, I feel a sense of freedom. It's a privilege I carry with me, knowing no woman in my family before me had the chance to experience this.

But there are still things that don’t feel normal. The ones that still make my emotions pull in every direction - shame, fear, exhilaration, all at once.

Even something as simple as posting publicly for the first time or running at 4 AM can stop me in my tracks. Because I was never meant to be seen like this.

Is this rebellion? Self-discovery? A crisis?
Will I ever know?

Do I even need to?

Sometimes, I wonder if I’ve drifted too far from the shore to ever go back. But then I ask myself - why would I go back when I am so happy here?

I have started to feel like an alien in this life. And for a long time, that felt like a loss. But now, I see it as a sign to find the other aliens.

The ones who have left behind a version of themselves they don't want to go back to.

I don’t think I’ve fully arrived yet. There are still lines I hesitate to cross, some because I don’t want to, others because I don’t yet have the courage.

But if I ever choose to cross them, I know I will be okay. And that knowledge, the certainty of my own becoming - terrifies and exhilarates me in equal measure.

If you let go of fear, who would you become?

I hope, more than anything, that you take a moment to honestly comment on what you could achieve if you pursued everything you want, even though it scares you.