Letter From A Stranger

By Lahari Kanadamuru

Dear reader,

Before anything, please continue if you’re keen about knowing the ‘Struggle’ of a stranger. If in any case, you read through the entire article, can we be Best Friends Forever?

Thank you so much. For being curious to read the next line. Though I wasn’t exposed to any elite academia… I learnt it’s important to introduce myself before anything. I am one among many others who are aspiring to be a writer, because of a friend. But, trying my luck at writing will be more appropriate. I wanted to prove a point, let my friend know I suck. But I guess fate has something else written in the cards for me. Because it is the first time I am stepping forward one step at a time not giving into thoughts about backing down.

I don’t know where to begin, nor have any clue about what I want to tell. Right now it’s a bit sad to think about telling something about me. Nothing comes to my mind to brag about. The best I can come up with is to tell you why it’s like this.

For as long as I remember, I was self-critical in almost all aspects of my life. As an added bonus, I didn’t care how it might impact me in future. Sixteen year old me is too stubborn to listen to anyone who counselled her. She had a guarded, shielded persona. Nothing gets her. This was what she let others see though. She’s the most sensitive person I ever knew. It’s an intentional choice to address myself as a third person. Because I don’t remember much about what I went through that period. All I remember are the events transpired that shaped me to be the person I am today.

Is it okay to get emotional now for giving in to the urges I had then, despite knowing better? I wish I had a definite answer to that. Most of my peers tell me to move on. ‘Nothing comes from thinking about the past’. It is what it is. Deep down I do know this. Is it unreasonable to search for answers after countless times of trying to “move on”? I feel judged, misunderstood. It’s kind of the reason why I decided to open up to a stranger.

I see comfort in this. Though there’s a higher risk of judgement and misunderstanding…  The reason for doing this is to know, if not definite, a reasonable answer of where I am at in life. What is one more, or a couple more common judgements passed at me? Will it hurt more than when my peers do it? I don’t think so. I can hope to understand something about myself.

Eight years have passed, since the first moment I criticize myself, that I am aware of. It isn’t in a toxic way, in case you are wondering. As I said, my sixteen-year-old self had two faces. The stubborn face and the sensitive face. Somewhere and somehow, shifting from one thing to the other, I lost myself. And now, at twenty-four, it is tough to accept that.

Being part of the world where most people are so self-involved, I don’t understand how I am different. Again, I lost myself. The feeling is incomparable, to me at least. And I struggle every day to know a bit more about myself. If to be judged one more time by a stranger is one side to a coin, this letter is my attempt to know what is on the other side. With hopes, I get to have a glimpse of it, even if not the entire side, I take leave.



A Confused Girl.

About the Author:

Lahari is a writer currently based in Bengaluru, India. A philomath by nature, she is particularly interested in the domain of mental health. She can be reached at laharikandamuru.1995@gmail.com

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