The best gift you can give your child is a healed version of you

 

There’s a certain stillness before life changes forever. When you’re planning to become a parent, or waiting to hold your baby for the first time everything feels hopeful, dreamy, and a little uncertain. You’re setting up a home, choosing names, reading about sleep schedules and baby care. But rarely do we pause to prepare ourselves.

Parenthood doesn’t begin with a crib. It begins with self-awareness.

We often believe love will guide us through everything. And it does, but love when mixed with unhealed wounds, can turn into fear, control, or guilt. A child doesn’t just inherit your eyes or smile, they inherit the way you handle sadness, the tone of your anger, and the quiet of your silence.

Every child becomes a mirror to what’s unresolved within us. They don’t mean to trigger us, they simply show us what still needs healing.

That’s why this book isn’t about how to raise a child. It’s about how to meet yourself before you hold another soul. It’s for those who want to step into parenthood with awareness, not assumption. Because parenting isn’t just about shaping a life, it’s about transforming your own along with your child(ren).

And when you start that journey early, before the noise and chaos take over, you gift your child something priceless, a home where peace isn’t performed, it’s felt.

p.s. One of the ways to discover that gift is right here - Safety Nesters to Empty Nesters

Official goodbye to my thirties!

10 years ago, when I wrote my farewell to my twenties, I remember standing at the edge of a decade with a certain urgency. To make sense of what had passed, to gather meaning before moving forward. That post was a closing in some sense.

Turning forty-one however, does not feel like a closing.

It feels like standing in the middle of a long, unfolding sentence; one where the grammar has finally begun to make sense, even if the ending is still unknown. There is less urgency now. Less need to summarise. And more willingness to sit with what is.

If my twenties were about becoming, my thirties were about unraveling what I had become. And now, forty-one feels like something far quieter, far deeper. 

It feels like choosing, with awareness, who I will continue to be. Not in reaction. Not in survival. But in truth. And truth, I am learning with a felt sense, is rarely loud.

Here's my list of 10 experiences of the decade that was:

1. Boundaries taught me what peace actually feels like: For the longest time, I thought closeness meant endurance. Now I know better. Peace is not found in fixing relationships, it is found in observing them clearly and choosing the distance they deserve. Not everyone earns proximity. And that’s not harsh, that’s being honest with yourself.

2. Letting go is not loss, it is liberation: There is a quiet strength in no longer holding on to people who cannot meet you,  to versions of yourself that no longer fit, and to narratives that keep you small. Letting go isn’t giving up. It’s making space for something that truly aligns with who you are and who you are becoming. 

3. Healing is a lifelong discipline: It’s not a phase, it’s not a one-time breakthrough. It is a continuous returning to yourself, to truth, and to awareness. Some wounds soften. Some patterns reappear. But the difference now is that I meet them with consciousness, not avoidance.

4. Mental health is not negotiable: Clarity of mind is everything. Protecting your mental space, what you consume, who you engage with, what you tolerate, is no longer optional. It is foundational. Peace is built, choice by choice.

5. Physical health is self-respect in action: Energy is currency which I built in my twenties and leveraged in my thirties. Because I have such a strong muscle memory of fitness, I have finally reached a place where taking care of my body is no longer about discipline. It is about devotion. 

6. Silence is not emptiness, it is power: The art of silence, introspection and witnessing yourself as is has given me more reason to go inward every time I am vulnerable. I no longer feel the need to explain, or respond to or for that matter prove anything. Silence has become a filter. It reveals what truly deserves my energy and what doesn’t. 

7. BHAG: Allowing myself to dream without shrinking it: A Big Hairy Audacious Goal once felt intimidating. Now it feels necessary. Not because I need to achieve more, but because I refuse to live small. My dreams are no longer edited to fit comfort zones, be it mine or anyone else’s.

8. Reclaiming my voice: There were years of quieting myself to maintain peace. That version of me served a purpose. But she is no longer leading. Reclaiming my voice is not about being louder, it is about being truer. The need for being authentic outweighs anything that it costs me when I look at myself now and in future. 

9. Grief and forgiveness doesn’t always look like loss: When you grieve, you soften into clarity and you stop outsourcing your worth. Grieving taught me how fleeting our life is. Forgiveness often misunderstood as reconciliation, excusing bad behaviour or being morally superior, is simply making peace with the fact that the past cannot be changed. Forgiveness taught me how much space the past was occupying in my today's life.

10. Rebuilding is sacred work: After letting go, after grieving, after seeing clearly and after forgiving, comes rebuilding. Neither rushed not forced, but intentional. This time, I am not building from expectation. I am building from truth.

At forty-one, life is no longer about becoming someone new. It is about becoming honest, removing what was never mine and standing authentically in what remains. These ten lessons make me look forward to what the next 10 years are going to teach me! 

Teaser

 Get your copy - Safety Nesters to Empty Nesters 

It’s Never Too Late

There is a quiet myth many parents carry that growth has a deadline. That repair must happen early, or not at all. That once a child reaches a certain age, the window closes.

It doesn’t.

Parenting is not confined to childhood years or legal milestones. It is a living relationship, one that continues to evolve as long as there is willingness, awareness, and love.

Whether your child is five, fifteen, or thirty five, they are still watching you. Not with the wide-eyed dependence of early years, but with a deeper curiosity of how you handle discomfort, how you take responsibility, how you respond when something old surfaces and asks to be healed.

Every time you pause instead of reacting, something shifts. Every time you choose honesty over authority, safety deepens. Every time you say, “I’m learning too,” a new pattern is born. Healing does not require perfect timing. It requires presence.

This book was written for parents who feel they may have arrived late to awareness. For those who believe they should have known better earlier. For those carrying regret, guilt, or the quiet ache of “if only.”

Change does not lose its power with time. In fact, it often gains depth. When a parent grows later in life, the impact can be profound, because it shows that evolution is possible at any age. Because it teaches children, grown or growing, that repair is not a one-time event, but a lifelong skill.

Parenting is not about raising a child perfectly. It is about remaining in a relationship with yourself, and with them. And if you are wondering whether it still matters, whether your effort will still be felt, whether awareness now can undo years of silence or misunderstanding, this book is here to remind you exactly that.

It is never too late.

p.s. Gift yourself or someone you love today- Safety Nesters to Empty Nesters

It's not that complicated!

If you doubt when all seems great,  

Know what you see, can be manipulated!

Truth is always stranger than fiction, 

Because your gut can sense what is hidden!

Looks can be deceptive, 

Words can be fake!

It is hard to simplify matters, 

Because everyone loves to complicate!

All the stories you've heard,

Everything you were told to be true, 

Can fall apart with one simple question -

Is there more to what meets the eye, even a tiny clue?

 

It takes courage to question what you hear,

It takes strength to revisit what you see!

It is tiring to stand up against the wrong,

But standing up for what is right, will set you free!

So do not ignore your gut feelings

Never doubt your gut's doubts, 

It is your guiding star

When everything is confusing and dark! 

O Rangrez: The Many Colours Within

 

O Rangrez: The Many Colours Within

Some songs don’t just stay in your ears, they linger in your inner world. This is my rendition of O Rangrez, a composition that carries a quiet depth within its melody. I first heard it in a rendition shared by Rahul Deshpande and Priyanka Barve, and something about that moment stayed with me.

The song, in its essence, is already beautiful. But what it stirred within me was something more personal and an invitation to reflect.

There is something profoundly humbling about recognising how many colours a single life can hold. Not just the obvious shades of joy or sorrow, but the subtler hues, the transitions, the contradictions, and the in-between spaces we often overlook. Each phase, each experience, adds a new tint to who we are becoming.

And perhaps that is what makes a song like this so powerful. It doesn’t impose meaning, it simply reveals it, gently, depending on where you are in your own journey.

This rendition comes from that space of introspection. A quiet pause. A moment of noticing the colours that have shaped me, and the ones I am still discovering.

If you missed the above link, you can listen to my rendition here. 

Afreen Afreen: Gratitude for Showing Up

 

Afreen Afreen: Gratitude for Showing Up

Sometimes, a song doesn’t just play, it arrives.

This is my rendition of Afreen Afreen, originally brought to life in its modern form by Coke Studio. I first heard it on the radio while returning home from a trip, in that quiet in-between space where you’re no longer where you were, but not quite where you’re going either.

And somehow, it met me exactly where I was.

There is something deeply moving about “showing up” in a relationship. Not out of habit. Not out of conditioning. But as a conscious, consistent choice. The kind that doesn’t demand attention, yet quietly shapes everything.

My partner has a way of embodying this that continues to surprise me, not because it is grand or dramatic, but because it is steady. Effortless on the surface, yet rooted in something deeply intentional. It’s not just about time spent together; it’s about presence, especially in the moments that matter most.

What we often call ease is, perhaps, something far more profound and a time-tested alignment. A rhythm two people grow into, not by chance, but by choosing each other again and again.

This song found me at a moment when I didn’t quite have the words to express my gratitude. And so, I turned to music, as I often do when language feels insufficient. This rendition is my way of saying what I couldn’t then. Of honouring not just love, but the quiet, powerful act of showing up.

If you missed the above link, you can listen to my rendition here.