Quitting Shotgun and Taking the Driver's Seat

Drawn on a difficult day in the US.

This year has been a rollercoaster. Now finally, for the first time in a while, I’ve started having neutral days on my mood chart—not as many good and happy days as I’d like, but fewer hard ones, which feels like progress. 

So let's see, this year, I lost two jobs (or chose to leave). I went to the US and returned home with a muddled head and shaky confidence. But I also came back with a certain pride in choosing my happiness and peace over ambition and prestige, choosing self respect over career growth, and choosing the present over future. I have been on medication for anxiety for more than three fourth of the year. I needed a lot of therapy, help, rest, reassurance, and rescue to get through.

Marking changing seasons, the starting of Spring.

Then again this year, I have been on three continents. I have explored a lot of new things (it's more feelings than activities when I mean explorations). I tried a completely different job. I painted, met a lot of new people, told people how kind they are, sang, travelled, modelled, acted, cooked, taught, wrote, fell in love, spoke, did experiments, shared my space, owned my space, drove around a lot, slept and dreamt a lot, went for walks on trails that I might not have gone before, I saw some crazy amazing art -Van Gogh, and Monet, included. I saw some wonderful seasonal changes and experienced monsoon from my home (now that's pleasure). I did some book cataloguing and other chores at home, ate some fruits (pear, mango, and jackfruit), tried being a cat mom, and binge watched so many TV series.

For once, I’ve been firmly in the driver’s seat of my life. And whenever I had to make a choice, I chose love and people I love again and again. I’ve come to value the time I spend with them more deeply, realizing my worth isn’t tied to what I produce or earn. It lies in my presence, in making people happy, connecting them, expanding their boundaries, and creating spaces for vulnerability and honesty. That role matters. It matters to be the one who is there.