That one time I went to Ireland…

Memory is a beautiful thing in life, more often than not, we hold the important ones close; sometimes by choice, and others, not so much. When I look back and think to the very first one I remember, I’m back in my aunt’s home, all cozy and sipping on the sugariest cold coffee, hearing stories about my long-gone grandma. I can still envision the details, the room was lit in this green hue of a night lamp, my aunt sitting on the floor, my mom and I on the bed, listening intently as she passionately talks about stories from her childhood. From the corner of my eye, I see my mom reminiscing her past, holding my hand tightly as she thinks back to their best days.

If you ask me right this second, I’d happily trade places for that moment. It had a familiar sweetness and acceptance that made me feel like I belonged, like I was home.

And if you haven’t been keeping up with my quarter life crisis, then you could read some of my posts from before that tell you how I feel like a nomad in a city I’ve lived for 16 years.  Ironically, for a week, I found that feeling again, right in the middle of Dublin, with not a single familiar soul to soothe my anxieties, yet I felt right at home. Not the kind of home that you can just sleep at night, not the kind of home that is eternally broken; but the kind where I felt my insecurities disappear, my anxieties become passive and my heart felt something it hasn’t in a while…it felt at peace.

Whether I walked alone, late at night on the streets; or up early to relish in a moment overlooking the canal; whether I sipped on a fancy shot of whiskey or mixed some in with my morning coffee, every moment felt like my own. Every memory was mine and mine alone; no one to change how I wanted to live it, no one to tell me when to come home, no one to judge me when I went to the theatre, or when I sat by myself at restaurants enjoying the view. I’m sure to a layman that sounds despariningly lonely, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned in 2017 is to be okay with just that.

So okay I was; lost in the city’s perfect sights, charming people and its nosy-culture, by some regard I felt like the Galway girl. Living life one night at a time, singing (badly) at Grafton Street alongside an impeccable street performer, walking into history in Belfast, letting foreign friends share with me their fascinating histories and sharing some of mine; oooh, last but not least waking up to strangers in a cramped hostel room and finding yourself playing cards with them 5 hours later. Everything was unexpected; the people, the city and above all, ME.

As I write this, I’m torn between reminiscing that version of myself and accepting that it was short-lived or holding on tightly enough to save its remains. It haunts me that I would climb any mountain, cross any ocean; just to relive this memory, and there are very few, that would make me want to do that. Meanwhile, I have found comfort in writing stories of my past and remembering them in extensive detail. It’s the only way to preserve the magic when the going gets tough, or when I find myself lose touch with the reality; it’s all right here, etched forever, here and in my heart. 


Happy Quotes
Happy Quotes

STOP BULLYING – Anonymous Share

This girl really touched me, she is the first one who shared her story with me and I am beyond happy to make any tiny difference. Read on to hear her story. If you come from an Indian background this is very relatable, and if you don’t then just try to understand through the cultural barrier. Be kind and careful with your words, as they hurt more than a sword.

“Hi Heena,

I would like to share my story with you too – I just turned 29 this June 14th 2013 Touchwood, Well to tell you the truth I have been on medication and I have been consulting a psychiatrist since the age of 20 and now I have reached a stage where the medicines have started taking a toll on me, I take my own cocktail of medicines now, I’m actually supposed to visit the psychiatrist every 15 days but I haven’t been doing that since 3 months as I have been on a shortage of money and plus the medicines he has been giving me are taking a toll on me and yes there are side effects such as body pains , I’m unable to think properly, I can’t work, I barely have energy, I’m so numb with all the sufferings now. Continue reading STOP BULLYING – Anonymous Share

August Beauty Favourites

Here are some of my top picks for August. In fact, a few of them are making it in my Holy Grail items! Since it is an in depth skin care post, I’d like to mention that I have combination to oily skin (more oily in summers than fall) so these products have been working for me at this time of the year.

Continue reading August Beauty Favourites

Part two of ‘Six things plus size women hate’

I speak fluent sarcasm. After years of bullying and name-calling, I decided the best way to avoid all the hurt is to laugh at myself as well. However, there are somethings that still hurts close to home, here are the other three from last day.

1. Has any plus size walked into a Moroccan bath, SPA massage, or Waxing table, without wondering why do I have to strip in front of a judgemental beautician? I have. Let me just clear, it probably might not be her fault, perhaps she is nice, perhaps she is mean, perhaps it’s all in my head. But to tell you the truth, I hate spa days for this very reason. Even more, I hate going for them with skinny friends, to being that girl who won’t strip completely to avoid showing her imperfections.

2. Have you been ‘Friendzoned’ because of your size? I wonder what is it about fat girls that make men think, we are emotionless, loveless and probably mindless for falling for them. They sit there chasing the next thin girl asking for our advice on ‘what do women like?’! Like, Seriously?!

3. This one’s a bummer, I have good looking guy friends and sometimes, I do manage to bag myself a hot date, because of my brains and not my booty. But walk into a bar, restaurant or a club, every women gawks at you as if the guy is nuts. In this area, I do believe guys are better, less bitchy to say the least. No wonder, I have more guy friends. Am I the only one who thinks people can fall for more than just looks, is it all in my head?

Let me know if you have experienced any of this or anything else?

Body Confidence

Plus Size Philosophy


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