confidence

To My Daughter When You Are a Teenager – Letter 1

Dear, Precious Shaila. By the time you are a teenager, I am guessing that you will still be dear and precious to me, if not more so than you are today.

I, on the other hand, fully expect to be a non-cool mother who you sometimes look upon with scorn and other types of not so loving faces. And like me, your mother, you have a face that gives away EVERYTHING.

I have not always been good about hiding my faces or my expressions. Which is ironic to me. Many years ago, I used to model and was told that I didn’t have enough “expressiveness” and needed to work on it. I wasn’t aware of the “Smizing” exercises that Dame Tyra Banks (I am sure she has been recognized by now for her contributions to society by England’s deserved Queen, Elton John) used to teach her proteges, but I did know that something in the pictures was not matching up to the way I was in real life.

You Can Try, BUT

“You can try, but you’re never going to get in.”

I remember hearing those words and feeling crushed. I was 17 years old and I was a pretty determined kid. My parents had agreed that when it came to college, I could go wherever I wanted in the country, because of their desire to give me the best opportunity when it came to education. If I got into a top tier school, would be willing to take on some financial aid and it was generally affordable, they would cut the umbilical cord and let me go.

Somehow, I decided that I was going to go, that I NEEDED to go to the University of Virginia.

My rationale was simple. It was FAR. At least 6 hours far.

It was beautiful. Full of Thomas Jefferson’s vision, architecture and history – the majestic grounds of the school were some of the prettiest I had seen.

Thinner

I have struggled with food my whole life.

When I was little, I didn’t want to have anything to do with it. It was more of a nuisance that interrupted the time I would rather spend playing.

As a pre-teen I abused it and found comfort in it, mistakenly thinking I could fill the empty places in my heart with another bite.

My junior year in High School, I walked away from it and found power in turning my back on the calories and embraced the solace in running.

But I often didn’t know what I was running from.

Or to.

In college, I mistakenly followed what I jokingly called the “Sorority Girl Diet,” eliminating fat but eating my fill of jelly beans and bagels and ensuring that beer was part of the regimen (at least from Thursday – Saturday nights).

Like Masala Chica

twitter-1_zps8d294a82 photo twitter-1_zps8d294a82-1_zps07cf2b5a.jpg  photo facebook-2_zps2d7bc191.png  photo pinterest_zps0d26b75f.png  photo bloglovin_zpsed864758.png  photo rss_zpsdc78f6f5.png  photo stumbleupon_zps67eca8d7.png  photo email_zpsff6bce92.png  photo google_zps5fdd831f.png

MEET KIRAN

I'm Kiran, I'm a dreamer. A writer. A singer. A mother. An ugly crier. An Indian-American. Who loves Gandhi. My stories are full of truth that is sometimes hard for me to say out loud. This blog is where I overcome my fears and live (and love) out loud. Read More....

Instagram

 

CATEGORIES

August 2014
M T W T F S S
« Jul    
 123
45678910
11121314151617
18192021222324
25262728293031

GRAB THIS!

Add the Masala Chica blog button

FEATURED

I'm scary sometimes over here.

In the Past…

Posts by Date

August 2014
M T W T F S S
« Jul    
 123
45678910
11121314151617
18192021222324
25262728293031