Mental health #2

#WorldMentalHealthDay

I am not an activist or an article writer to motivate the seemingly normal people to be open to issues of mental health. All I have is my stories. I hope it connects.
1. It’s never the external factors, it’s the inner turmoil and how a person chooses to deal with it. Remember Chester Bennington of #LinkinPark
2. There is no profile. A person can mask it really well, so don’t just go about profiling someone as suicidal or not.
3. It’s the 21st century let’s be inclusive in spirit not because it seems cool. Be it #mentalhealth #LGBTQ or anything that was below the carpet decades back.

#letstalkmentalheath

I have been contacted by people, stating that why did I kill the main lead. That too in a grotesquely manner. I am not an activist or an article writer to explain, or to motivate the seemingly normal people to be open to issues of mental health. All I have is my stories. I hope everyone who wrote to me, get their answers.
1. It’s never the external factors, it’s the inner turmoil and how a person chooses to deal with it. Why else would Chester Bennington do what he did? Or #AnthonyBourdain
2. There is no profile. A person can mask it really well, so don’t just go about profiling someone as suicidal or not.
3. It’s the 21st century let’s be inclusive in spirit not because it seems cool. Be it #mentalhealth #LGBTQ or anything that was below the carpet decades back.

Chapter 12
———————-
Past Closure
———————-
“It’s funny how memory works, “ Abeer continued,lost in thoughts, “I cant remember now what the fight was about.” He pinched his nose trying to remember and then gave up with a sigh. “ I had gone home, which always was a difficult time for me, but I had to.” He paused deciding to continue or not.
“Pakhi did tell me about your relationship with your mother.” I supplied to make him comfortable. He was surprised and said so, “ It wasn’t all too bad,” he justified before continuing, “You ask me about that day and trust me, I don’t remember anything else about that day except how it made me feel. I still shiver at the memory of seeing her in the hospital.”
I chuckled and he noticed.
“That’s not what I heard.” I accused again but he maintained his composure.
“Obviously, you have a different version of the story than me, I can only tell you what really happened and maybe then you can go back and check if Pakhi told you the truth.” He waited for me to respond and when I nodded he went into a reverie
“ I had been out of touch with Pakhi for a month I guess, the reason was that I had gone home. And my home wasn’t a pleasant place to be, it was a place where I was constantly reminded of my failures and I avoided talking to Pakhi when I went home because I didn’t want to take it out on her. It was my way of separating the good in my life from the hell that home was.”
He got up at that and took the framed sketch made by Pakhi down, he caressed  the hair of the girl in the sketch as he spoke, “Pakhi told me that this girl was her, always looking out of the window, waiting for me to come back.”
I winced at that, which Abeer didn’t notice as he still was looking at the sketch.
“She wasn’t home when I returned and when I called, her brother picked up and informed me about her being in the hospital. Everything after that is hazy, I just remember I was sitting next to her bed and she was lying there all pale and weak.”
“And then you slapped her.” I was losing my patience.
He didn’t deny. “And then I slapped her.”
He repeated, not regretting it, “ She was everything for me, and I couldn’t understand how could she value her life so little and do such a thing.”
“Because you made her feel unimportant.”
“It wasn’t supposed to be like that, I wasn’t supposed to be this important.” He explained.
“You were to her.” I replied ,”then.”
“I didn’t know that, I wasn’t used to be important to anyone. I didn’t  even know how to process my emotions when I saw her like that and so I reacted. I turned into this angry person who took it out on everyone including her and her brother only because I was hurt.”
“That’s your explanation ?” I asked sarcastically and he nodded as if it was the most logical explanation ever.
“Next day I returned to apologise, but by then she had already made her decision and she asked me to leave her forever.”
“Which you did?” I asked and he shrugged.
“Did it ever cross your mind, to check how can a person who did something extreme one day for you, turn the next day to throw you out?”
“It did cross my mind, and I begged her for another chance. Promising that I won’t screw up this time, but she was adamant.”
“And it was easy for you to give it up than do pursue?”
“Trust me nothing was easy, but I am glad I left, clearly we were bad for each other and I am happy that she has a happy life with you.”
I didn’t react.
I was no closer to getting the answers I desired. “ I don’t think I can come around to justify people who give up on their dreams or their life.” I thought out loud and this time Abeer laughed. What I said was an extension of my own struggle to deal with Pakhis departure.
“Is that how you think of her, yugaant?” He asked me and I didn’t reply.
“Or us?” He asked again and I was ashamed of myself for even voicing my thoughts.
“Trust me Doctor, it takes a lot of strength to do what she did. Physically hurting an unknown person is easy, even mobsters and other lowlifes do it with ease because you yourself don’t feel the pain, having the strength to do it to yourself is derived from a lot of pain. Pain which becomes insurmountable.”
“ You are the psychology expert right?” He asked me sarcastically but I sat there with my head hung low. “ it’s easy to say that you dislike certain people, but difficult to go and understand them. All you have seen is the scar and formed an opinion, that day I had seen the seriousness of her actions, and it scared me. It wasn’t an attention seeking gimmick Doctor, it was a serious attempt gone wrong fortunately.” He went on lecturing me not realising the passion with which he was defending Pakhi.
“People don’t commit suicide as a reaction to their external environment, Doctor, people do it because of the battles they fight everyday within.”he pushed his finger at his heart while saying that and his eyes welled up for what he said next, “I have not spend a single day in peace, since I left Pakhi, not because I am hung up on her, I am grown up enough to know that she made a decision to be away from me. But because , I failed her. I failed to understand what went on inside her even after spending so much time with each other.”
I didn’t have the courage to admit that I failed Pakhi too, so I just sat there listening to him taking it out of his system, noticing that he had resorted to calling me Doctor, but I had to rush past these trivial thoughts and concentrate on the task at hand. Pakhi.
“Do You now know?” I asked him directly.
He shrugged. “All I know now is that, we got together very young with a lot of expectations from each other and when they weren’t fulfilled, it messed up with our heads. I was distant as I was dealing with my own problems not realising that she wanted to be a part of it. In trying to protect her, I damaged her. You know how it’s said that a bird struggling it’s way  out of the egg is part of its strength buildup? And shouldn’t be helped as we risk crippling it? I tried to handle her with caution and messed up pretty bad. She felt alienated by me.” He went on and on, gathering his thoughts.
“She is better off without me” he repeated conclusively. “Maybe It wasn’t about me at all, it was just who she was then” he smiled to himself, “Well that’s what I tell myself, when I cannot sleep at night.” He concluded and looked up at me.
I was still not able to connect the dots of the whole puzzle this was. I had an image of Abeer when I visited him, I always knew he was important to Pakhi and in meeting him, I was hoping that he would have all the answers, but he didn’t seem to.Even if he did, his answers were sounding superficial to me. or maybe he was just entertaining me.
I decided to play a little to get what I wanted from him.
“Frankly Abeer, the reason I walked into your house the day before after I saw your sculpture was because I was intrigued. Pakhi told me everything about you when we first met, and I was intrigued then too, I had not heard of such passion. And that time I attributed it to the sensitivity of artists. The raw emotional appeal that’s identified with them. Like I have read about the paradoxes of artists,Pakhi was like that- openly brash and bold in public, but still shy and emotional in her own way.”  I unknowingly used the past tense but he didn’t notice.
“But she changed with you?” He asked attributing my use of the past to the fact that I was talking about Pakhi as she was then, when I met her.
I nodded,lying again.
She hadn’t changed. She had just learned to mask herself better. A thing I realised after she left me.
“Similarly, I had an image of you. An elusive brat who didn’t care for the world but focused on his art. That’s how Pakhi portrayed you.”
He laughed.
“You are the psychiatrist, you tell me.” He challenged.
I had no answer.
He got up to put the sketch back on the wall, angling it perfectly, moving it by millimetres till he was satisfied that it was perfectly positioned. He then wiped the edges of the sketch for nonexistent dust with his sleeve. And I noticed his movements. Apart from the way he carried himself, the overgrown salt and pepper hair, the stubble growing on his chin and the relaxed way in which he dressed, there was nothing in fact relaxed about him. I looked around the immaculately decorated room.
It wasn’t a room of a man who didn’t care. It was a palace waiting for its queen. Everything was at its rightful place and his relaxed demeanour was in fact him waiting.
I had a short pang of jealousy as this realisation hit me. In the mean time he was back at his place, sitting opposite me and looking at me with a self assured smirk.
“ Why are you so sure that, she will be back?” I asked him and he didn’t flinch, he wasn’t surprised, he just smiled and within seconds the assertiveness of the first day I met him was back. At that moment, he didn’t care that I was Pakhis husband. For him, we both had an understanding, where he finally understood that I had deciphered him.
“Why are you so sure that she won’t be?” He threw back at me. “She asked me to stay away and I am holding my end of the bargain. I won’t ever interfere in her life. If today you call her up and ask me to talk to her, I won’t. I promised her that. I will wait for her permission to invite me back in her life. But that doesn’t mean that she won’t be back on her own.”
I sniggered at the information I had withheld from him. Right that moment, I had two choices, one to keep him waiting forever and second to end his misery. I wasn’t sure that he would be able to handle the reality, still I decided to go with it. He had just minutes back assured me that he was a grown up.
“You told me, your end of the story, Abeer, I said getting up.... “let me tell you my end.”
He folded his hands and looked up at me, waiting.

Mental health #1

I made a bucket list when I was 23. It's hidden somewhere on a blog I used to maintain. If I remember the list, it had certain things that were important to a 23 year old me and included things like visiting the Effiel Tower and learning French etc. What was not a part of the list and still a dream was to see my favourite band perform live. I have grown up with the heart touching lyrics of linkin park. And I would be honest here, like every middle class Indian I grew from Bryan Adams, Enrique to finally graduate to linkin  Park. And I have this habit of always checking their tour schedule in a hope to see them perform live. Even my phone has the songs recorded from live performances. There's a different energy to live performances in my opinion.
But all of this became immaterial a few days back, as the lead singer of #LinkinPark , Chester committed suicide and selfishly I was angry. I was angry because I suddenly felt empty as if a life goal was snatched away from me. With fresh reports pouring in and all sites picking up the news, it's almost there on my feed everyday. And I have just one question why? LinkinPark would reply with "I don't know why". I fucking named my blog after the song. And all my close friends know that there are two things I force on every acquaintance who gets close to me, 1. Linkin Park 2. Fountainhead. So I somehow tried justifying my anger as a fan. Even if they find a new singer and they go on. It's not the same. Now that I have sufficiently taken out my frustrations at the news. Here's the bigger question in front of all of us. A famous, rich man who was loved by many and who had a wife and six children, was lonely enough to commit suicide!
There is a bigger force at play here. And we in India, where mental health isn't even addressed need to think about it more. The cure of depression in our culture is get married. And you are not supposed to be depressed post marriage. If you say it aloud to someone, you are looked at with crazy eyes. Why would someone married with kids be depressed?
Chester's suicide is an indicator of how facades are deceptive enough and how somehow the demons of the past keep haunting you. That's what their official statement said. He was a man who found fame and money by singing about his demons and his battles with his inner demons but never really overcame them.
What I want to say here is that, find compassion to people around you, maybe someone really is silently asking for help and maybe you could be the person to save someone's life.
There's this image around Hollywood celebrities of drugs and self destruction. But deep down aren't we all humans requiring care and love in whatever form possible? There's this image around Indians too, we are too full of life to even understand the implications of words like depression, post natal depression, bipolar syndrome etc. In our mind these are all big words coming from west. Nothing could be wrong with the brain. But in reality we all need to start embracing these definitions, if not for diagnosis then for support system.
The last loss of a person that affected me this much was someone closer to me and it's not very much me to be effected by a stranger whose music I loved. But it did. Because now I have the maturity to understand that a suicide cannot be blamed on the person who took that drastic step. The society that pushed that person to take that step is at loss too.
So here goes my tribute to the  person who helped me grow from an idealistic, romantic teenager to a practical woman:
Give me the strength of the rising sun
Give me the truth of words unsung
      So rest your head
      It's time to sleep
     And dream of what's in store
The body bends until it breaks
And sings again no more

Diversity

We are living in an age where this word is the key to success. Its a key to sound inclusive, to portay equal opportunity.
Diversity is about equal opportunities, It is about appreciating the differences. Diversity is giving voice to all the different opinions on the table.
Management books say that diverse organisations are stronger because they appreciate the diversity. Women in workplace at higher positions are appreciated because they bring a different insight to the business. But if we twist the whole meaning of diversity in order to fit in at a global level, if we say only the right things, if we become followers instead of trailblazers, the whole point is lost. Diversity does not mean I  cannot see the race, gender, or other visible traits of a person when I see them. It does not mean that I reject the regional or cultural heritage of people and accept them on the table to act as clones.
What it means though is that I SEE THEM and I APPRECIATE THEM. I GIVE THEM A VOICE. I say to them that " For me the world looks blue, what colour do you see? Maybe together we can agree its purple or red!"
I take the insights from their diverse heritage. That is true diversity on all fronts - be it gender, region, race or sexual orientation. It is to recognise, accept and appreciate. It is about equal opportunity based on merit and not merely being blind to the diverse aspects.
Sadly, the word is reduced to a chapter in Management books, a legislative compliance in companies and a totally flabbergasted middle management and employees at ground level. Diversity is not about accepting substandard talent to fit a quota and it surely doesnt end with hiring.
Dont hire a unicorn and then cut its horn and make it forget how to fly!!
ACCEPT, APPRECIATE & LET IT FLY
Thats the true aspect of diversity!

-----(c) Dixy Gandhi

Smile some more

I have been a big fan of Marvel since the first ironman movie I guess. So imagine my excitement at the first Captain Marvel movie.The first superhero movie with a female lead by Marvel (Well in my honest opinion, Marvel always has been risk avoider. DC got it perfect with Wonderwoman, but thats for another day).
I would imagine the first solo film to be of the black widow, but guess she still has to pose some more  in tights with her rear facing the camera for marvel to trust and invest  some money on her.
Even Captain Marvel comes only after the build-up of Infinity War, as collateral 😊
So thats the premise, apparently someone on twitter used a photo app to make Brie smile more in the first-look posters of the movie. Isnt that so nice of the man, to remind her to smile while fighting the bad guys. She in turn replied with an Instagram post of all the Avengers smiling. Apparently, only the men can sulk. Girls should smile more.
Some days I wake up willing to ignore all the stupidity and double standards around me, but some days it just gets too much. The sadddest part is that I know nothing will change. There will always be an justification for patriarchy. No speeches by Chimamanda Ngozi Amichie will be taken in right context, the answer will always be you cannot generalise. Women will always be judged for showing emotion (she is using her tears) or not showing enough emotion( she is being a cold bit**) , for drinking too much (Ahh..thats what these pseudo feminist are like)  or not drinking at all (old school) . For how they dress or how their skin looks over their brains. One cannot just have it all. Not to forget the mansplaining!! Seriously! I am a mechanical Engineer with masters in English but please do explain me the functioning of a DC motor or how to pronounce a word right.
And its only so much one can take with write-ups like this termed angry.
Yes, I am angry, but while I cope with this anger, let me smile some more 😊

Shades of Grey

No this article isn’t about the crappy novel by E.L. James.

But now that I have your attention let’s talk about Shades of Grey.

World isn’t like a  piano: All black and white.

Nothing can be labelled angelic or pure evil.

Every sage has his past, Valmiki was a robber once...

However, in the social age, we are always eager to label things as Good or Bad.

The recent example was the #TilakNagar incident.

Prima facie, everyone was quick to react and support the girl. Obviously, she has the guts to stand up against eve-teasing, lets support her. Everyone from media, celebrities shared her posts and the government announced a Rs.5000 prize (Seriously!)

The guy was immediately labelled as the villain! (I don’t say the good guy here, please note!)

Then came the sensible reaction, someone somewhere thought that lets look into the facts and so the media dug up dirt on the girl, came up with on-lookers who reported the so-called truth.

Was it really the truth?

No one cared to find out as again, the charade started with people shifting their stances and now labelling the girl as bad and the guy as good! Celebrities tweeted their apologies.

See how fuzzy, blotchy and hasty our judgement is?

I have few observations to make here-

Obviously, being human I can also label things as good and bad so let me get it done with first. The girl shared the guys pic on social media, making him infamous. Everyone shared his pic openly and he was the culprit. No blurry images here for protection which is the norm legally! That was wrong. We talk about gender equality so let’s be judicious, so she had his bike number, why share his picture? Would she have liked it if her picture was shared like that?

 I won’t be surprised if he or she is approached by #Big Boss as contestant or dances in a reality dance show next. How we love to make celebrities out of bad boys!

But guess the final judgement by the social media, while the police is still looking into the matter (A sorry state of Indian legal system) is in favour of the boy.

He is indeed a good boy, and it was the girl who wanted publicity.

Having said this, I think this is how the incident really played out.

The girl was minding traffic and the guy said a few choice words to her.

She decided to act out of vengeance and played her political connections to punish him. She obviously miscalculated the jagrut media. And soon, her 5 mins of fame changed to a nightmare  the Vanilla Sky way!

My take comes from my personal experience of visiting an ATM in my home town some years back.

 So I go inside the ATM to withdraw cash, and two tall, hefty, middle aged men walk in while I am still withdrawing cash. Obviously, I feel threatened, so I calmly tell them that, "you are supposed to wait outside when the ATM is in use" What follows can best be written out in **** and  ###  as they told me very impolitely that they aren’t interested in my money and I should mind my own business.

Mind you, they were educated, well dressed MIDDLE AGED men!

My mistake? Not shutting up apparently!

The thing is both could be wrong, the boy in using choice words and the girl in her act of vengeance, but why are we so eager to place the blame on one person and make the other go scot-free? No one’s  black and white here.

Obviously the next step is to find out who was more wrong and then the culprit turns out to be the one who tried to strong ones case by covering tracks and lying. Does it change the fact that maybe some words were uttered to outrage her modesty?  That she had to walk out of that place red –faced the way I did from that ATM?

 The media has moved on, the re-judgement passed. The balance is finally restored. But in future maybe we can learn and concentrate on some things-

1. Think before acting.

2. Avoid pressing that "share" button when it comes to such incidents.

3. Give an equal benefit of doubt irrespective of gender.

4. Stop being judgemental

 

To end on a positive note, if entertainment for you is really watching Bindras, Sawants and Radhe Maas on reality TV, let’s make celebrities out of such incidents!

What Really Matters?

I would like to start this note with a disclaimer that I am not an expert on relationships. In fact, I am just the opposite. I am a loner who loves reading, exploring new places and watching Sci-Fi movies. I can count my friends on fingers- of one hand, without using all of them. I have one best friend of the opposite gender and I couldn’t even keep that friend as just a friend and ended up marrying him. Let me tell you, that’s the end of friendship, or maybe a start of something more beautiful.

What I want to emphasize here is you can choose to stay single or get married to your best friend, or get an arranged marriage. The next step is always going to be arguments or fights or to put it lightly for the "pro-claimed classy" you both will disagree on certain issues. And this lesson that I share now is the one I learnt from my husband. I am a reactive person, in the sense that I shout, a lot. And then I go silent. It took me two years of marital bliss to come to the conclusion which ironically for a person who is die-hard Linkin Park fan should have been crystal clear. In the end it doesn’t even matter!

Even as I write this, I am sitting amidst casually thrown T shirt and shorts in the room, not the bedroom mind you, the living room! Because somehow that’s the place my husband chooses to throw all his important things. And I used to shout! Remember the movie Chalte Chalte? Rani Mukherjee always threw a fit when SRK threw his shoes on the floor. It’s the exact same situation, So if I have to describe my living room right now, It has his clothes lying on the sofa. His wet towel on the 3K fabric swing I purchased so lovingly for my home and his socks , 4 pairs of them stuffed in the Shoe rack. This isn’t public shaming, this is living with a man! And now it comes to the reaction part, for first six months I shouted, which resulted in him placing his things on the right place reluctantly, then came his reaction.

Obviously, we are two different people, so I have some habits that disturb him. He started pointing out the charger with the switch on, the glass I casually place on the fabric sofa, instead of the table without a coaster! In my defense, I will pick it up when I get up, but you see there’s always a movie going on and I might not get up for the next three hours, time sufficient to leave a mark on the sofa! I am no saint either.

So after this reactive phase, where we both pointed at each other's irritating habits. we started to live with it! And yup, that’s the most peaceful existence. we often get scolded by elders of the family that we live like Students in a hostel! But we don’t care! Because after the initial disagreements what prevails in my house is peace. I know what some of you might be thinking, as the woman of the house, it’s my job! To clean up, look after the house, make sure its super-clean for guests. But I ask you this, what matters more? I work the same hours as my husband, have a one year old to look after and yup I can pick up all these things in the time I wasted writing this! But try doing it for 7 days a week then multiply it by 30 and then 12... it sure will get to you! The wet towel will always be on the swing!

And so I let it be there, Coz that’s where it belongs!
A happy me in a messy house is better than an irritated me in a clean house.
A smiling, cracking jokes couple in an untidy house is better than a bickering couple in a house that has no clutter!
A clutter free relationship is better than a clutter free house!
In my messy home, all guests are welcome, I sure will find place for you on the sofa where the laundry is lying from Sunday! And the guests, do they matter more than my husband? Surely no!

That’s the master Key! Let things be as they are. Homeostasis (As Sheldon would say)

Also, one thing my husband is great at is transforming the house into a super-clean place 10 mins before the guests arrive. Other times, we let the room name define itself, it’s a living room, we live there, so we leave signs  of human existence there!
Lesson learnt is- Always ask yourself what matters more?

So this evening after a hard day at work for both of us, we intend on opening a bottle of Red, watching a movie amidst the wet towel, laundry  socks and yes toys, lots of toys!

5 ways Parents scar/e children for life

There is this universal system of raising children which is based on the lement of fear. It seems all children are brought up the same way. Hollywood children are scared of monsters in the closet. My reference to this being #supernatural again.
And our desi children- well since long, mothers have a unique way of instilling discipline in toddlers. In the process they not-so creative mothers create some monsters that children are scared of, and they remain in that fear zone till a long time. I, for instance have this irrational fear of dogs! Have no idea about the source of this fear but I am sure it must be related to some childhood incident.
So since hitting the child is so old-fashioned, modern mothers have an unique way of handling their naughty brats. By creating monsters! And here I list the five types of monsters every mother/parent creates-
1. The "face-less" monster:
 I remember when my 3 year old neice refused to sleep, my mother would say "Go to sleep or watchman will take you away!" The funny part was our building didnt have a watchman, so in the poor child's imagination "watchman" was a scary monster who took away kids if they refused to sleep at night. I bet she would have drawn a sketch like this of the dreaded watchman in her head with his weapon of attack - the stick(danda)



2. The "known" monster:
This one is classic, as Maya Sarabhai will say "typical middle-class" monster every mother creates-
Mom: Stop playing in the mud.
Kid: *Refusing to pay attention, totally ignoring the mother*
Mom: I am warning you! Stop playing in mud, its dirty!
Kid:*Still no reaction, if at all, its a i-dare-you stare to mom*
Mom: Ok dont listen to me! i will tell Papa when he comes home.
Kid:*Immediately brushing his hands clean and running inside*
Papa somehow, becomes a monster in the kid's mind through whom the kid is blackmailed into obidience. This time the monster is a known monster.Loving Papa turning into a fearsome monster- His weapon being "bare hands"

3. The "higher-authority" monster:
Children are funny in a way that once they enter school, the teacher becomes GOd. So everything she says has to be followed by the kid and also his parents. And that kind of authority gives parents the chance to make a monster out of the teacher, so the conversation flows like this-
Mom: "If you dont brush your teeth at night, I will tell your teacher"
And the kid to save himself from the embarrassment of his teacher knowing that he is the kind of kid who doesnt brush teeth at night, meekly follows the command.
In that instant, the sweet teacher turns into a monster with a "chalk" in her hand as a weapon by which she will write "**** is a bad boy" on blackboard for all to see.
4. The "random stranger"  monster.
This one is epic again, and as old as time itself. everytime a child misbehaves in a shop or supermarket, the shopkeeper becomes the monster.Or in a supermarket, the meek helper becomes a fearsome Godzilla.
Mom: See, if you dont get up from the floor at once, uncle will beat you
And the kid, fearfully through tearsome eyes, gives up his demand for chocolate and tries assessing how the meek uncle has so much power!
5. "The unbeatable Mom monster"
Every kid knows one thing, MOm is the final authority on everything. If you keep her happy she will pamper you to the world's end. However if by chance you wong her, than hell hath no fury! Even the "hulk Smash!" anger is surpassed by mom's anger. And then the kid has no option but to behave. Anything from the simple rolling pin to a utensil, ladle, ruler can become her weapon as she immediately turns into the Goddess Kali about to attack Maheshasoor.

I have a sweet 10 month old, and she tries me to my wit's end. So much so that every night before her I am on the verge of crying as she refuses to sleep and I am tired at the end of a long days work. Even multiple cups of coffee give up on me. But somehow I am trying to adopt a fearless parenting style. Let me see if I retain this control when she turns a demanding toddler. But for now I imagine this as I grow old with her-

Here's to all parents'- May God give you the strength of raise fearless kids!!