💔 A Letter From a Tired Heart - A Loveless Marriage - Day 3

This morning, I woke up clutching my stomach, those sharp, twisting cramps that make you forget how to breathe. I looked at my calendar, confused. Ten days early. Damn it.

If you are a woman, you know that feeling, The frustration and the pain. As I swung my legs out of bed and placed my feet on the floor, it felt like stepping on thorns. My feet hurt, my back ached, and my mood? Let’s just say it was a storm waiting to break.

Still, I pulled myself up. Because that’s what we do, we push through. But as I shuffled to the kitchen, exhausted, the man I married gave me that look. You know that ONE look that silently says, “You are just being lazy.”

To avoid an argument, I muttered softly, “I got my periods. I am unwell.”

And then came the sentence that broke me. “My sister never behaved like this. Behaving as if she is the only woman in the world”

That one line cut deeper than the cramps. Because what he was comparing me to was his sister, ten years ago, before she was married, before the daily grind, before life’s invisible weights started stacking up.

How can you compare two women from two completely different worlds?

His sister didn’t have to travel through traffic for hours every day. She didn’t sit at a desk for 8 hours fighting back pain and deadlines. She didn’t come home to cook, clean, manage, nurture, while silently fighting a body that’s screaming inside.

And maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t going through what I might be, hormonal imbalance, stress-induced cycles, pre-menopausal changes, chronic fatigue, or anxiety that no blood test can measure.

Women’s bodies are not machines. We are cycles of change, physical, emotional, spiritual. And no two cycles are the same.

So, to every woman reading this:  Please, don’t let anyone make you feel weak for your pain. You are not overreacting. You are surviving battles no one else can see. Cry if it helps. And know this: your worth is not measured by how well you hide your pain.

And to the men who are reading:

When she says she’s in pain, believe her. Don’t compare. Just show empathy. Sometimes love doesn’t need words,  just understanding.

Because every cruel comment might fade, but its stays - long after the cramps do.

💔 A Letter From a Tired Heart - A Loveless Marriage - Day 2

Dear Diary,

Oh my God… what an immature person I was married to. Today he came to me and said sorry. But it didn’t feel real,  not even for a second. I have lived through too many years, too many cycles of his fake guilt, and his sudden softness that always vanishes the moment I stop agreeing with him.

If I stay quiet, he gets triggered, like silence itself offends him. 

He throws words like knives, each one meant to wound, to control. 

But today… today was different. I looked straight into his eyes and said “No.” Hiding all my pain.

Just one word  and everything changed. His tone shifted instantly. The man who pretended to be remorseful only moments ago turned harsh again, like the mask had slipped and his true face finally showed.

That’s when it hit me this was never love. It was an act. A carefully rehearsed play for the world to see. Maybe he has some family function coming up, maybe he needs to parade the illusion of a “happy marriage.” I don’t know. But I do know this his apology wasn’t for me. It was for the audience he wants to impress.

And for the first time, I didn’t fall for it. I didn’t melt. I didn’t hope.

I just felt… tired.

Maybe that’s what real clarity feels like.

💔 A Letter From a Tired Heart - A Loveless Marriage

Even a delivery boy or a complete stranger standing at the door is greeted with a smile, offered water, or at least told, “Come in.”

Today, as I sit quietly with my thoughts, I realize how people truly are. 

It has been nine long years since my marriage, and not even once my in-laws said that simple word — “Come In” — when I entered their home. 

Every time I entered that house, it felt like I was walking into a place where I didn’t belong — a place that reminded me I was unwanted.

I always carried guilt in my heart, as if I had done something wrong by being born a woman or by marrying into their family. The only thing they seemed to truly want from me was my share of my son and my husband, who, unfortunately, chose silence over support.

My so-called husband never cared to notice my pain. For him, the marriage was just a social status — a way to show the world he has a wife, a home, and stability. But behind those closed doors, it was nothing but emptiness. He got what he wanted - money, comfort, and a name in society. I, on the other hand, was left with loneliness and emotional scars.

There’s one incident I still can’t forgive myself for. I once took my in-laws on a beautiful family trip — something very few daughters-in-law ever do. I planned everything, thinking maybe this time they would see my love, maybe this time they would accept me. But the result? It broke me further.

Even after that painful experience, I repeated my mistake the following year — another trip, a bigger group, more hopes. And then came the cruelest part — the family photo. They clicked it without me and made it their display picture — a perfect, smiling family that didn’t include me.

That moment shattered something inside me. The world sees their smiles, but I see the truth behind it — my exclusion

I don’t even know why I still keep trying, why I still hope. Maybe because every woman who loves deeply has this one dream — to be seen, valued, and loved for who she is. But some marriages are just beautiful cages, where the heart screams silently, and no one listens.

Final Thoughts: If you ever felt unseen in your marriage, ignored by your husband, or unwanted by your in-laws, know that you are not alone. So many women are silently fighting this same emotional battle behind closed doors.

When You are Tired but the Kids Don’t Care 😅

You know that feeling when you walk into your home after a 10-hour workday+3 hours of commute, dreaming of REST. 

Yeah… that was me today.

I stepped into my home after standing all day at a conference booth stall, my mind screaming, “Hit the bed!.” And before I could even drop my bag, my son spotted me — and like an siren, he yelled, “Mummyyyyy’s home!”

Within seconds, five tiny tornadoes (aka kids from the neighborhood) rushed inside my house laughing, screaming, bouncing on bean bags. One was playing cricket near the TV (and there was our couple photo frame — I was silently praying he wouldn’t turn out to be a Dhoni and hit it), another climbed onto the small circle slab in the corner, and before I knew it… the living room looked like a kids’ carnival.

Then came the next “assignment” for me: the little ones wanted me to hold them so they could count from 1 to 100 on the monkey bar. 

And just when I thought it couldn’t get messier, my son grabbed his water spray gun and went “pew-pew-splooosh-splash!” 💦 Water everywhere on the floor.

But here’s the twist — I didn’t scold them. Normally, if it were just my son, my “mom reflex” would have activated: instant scolding mode ON! But today, surrounded by five kids, I controlled my anger, frustration, or whatever you want to call it, and went with the flow. My brain kept whispering… calm down, just a few more minutes. I knew they were only here for a short while. Why spoil that joy?

And then it hit me. If I can control my anger for other kids… why can’t I do it for my own son?

Maybe our kids deserve that same calm version of us — the one that doesn’t shout, that just smiles through the mess, knowing they are learning, exploring, being kids.

So yeah, today I didn’t just survive a chaotic evening — I learned something too.

Parenting isn’t about perfection; it’s about perspective.

And next time you are a tired mom with five monkeys jumping on your couch — just breathe, grab a coffee or chocolate 🍫 or Meghna's Special Chicken Biryani or Death by Chocolate and remind yourself, "You are not losing control… you are gaining patience"

💬 What about you? Ever had one of those “I should have yelled, but didn’t” parenting moments? Drop it in the comments — let’s learn and survive motherhood together! 😅