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For those of you who have known me over the years, you know that I am the “queen of disclaimers,” and I always say that they are #nevernotnecessary, because, thus far, they have never proven not to be. There is, legit, never NOT someone who lacks a sense of humor/does not understand sarcasm and, therefore, cannot take a joke and takes everything literally thereby resulting in next level butt hurtedness (*real phrase* – just go with it). There is also never NOT someone who does not understand that what I share is simply my OP-IN-I-ON and that I am not remotely suggesting that I am “right” or that they are “wrong” simply because we view things differently (the number of people who want to #comeatme on the regular is truly remarkable and, sometimes, alarming while always being amusing); rest assured that asserting my opinion in a confident manner (read: as if it was the truth) does not make it the truth. Finally, there is never NOT someone who does not interpret my having the gall to express myself unapologetically as my thinking that I am “better than” or “think I know better than” or some other effery.

*News Flash* I do not think I am better than anyone and, for reals, I do not know shit. I feel rather lost on most days and am just trying to figure out this whole life thing as (I believe) most people are; however, contrary to many, I actually share my struggles and not just my highlights reel as I no longer have any effs to give about what other people think and, accordingly, choose to live a self-expressed life. For me, “sharing” is not something I simply “enjoy” doing nor do I share to “get” something, but it is who I AM and what I believe is my higher purpose/calling in life, and my desire – more like compulsion – to share comes from having made a million and four mistakes. Maybe a million and five. I dunno, but A LOT, so I “overshare” as I do simply because my life’s greatest desire is that as many people as possible – particularly young people – be spared from making the same mistakes I did, and, even if they do make them, that those mistakes are understood to be lessons to learn from rather than experiences that derail their lives entirely as they did mine (on more than one occasion, because I used to make the same mistake at least thrice for good measure). *Judges self but quickly forgives for doing the best I could with my level of consciousness at that time*

Anywho… so, the “disclaimer of all disclaimers” includes all of the above and also includes the following which is that there is really very little unique thought left in this world in spite of nearly everyone out there (self-help/development peeps, “gurus” of whatever, coaches of every variety, etc) pretending that they are coming up with “novel” thoughts all the time when, in fact, they are simply thoughts that have been repurposed, repackaged, and repositioned to be sold as “novel” and “life-changing.” Keyword: SOLD, and I will rant about this more in a future post.

For now, please know this: I am – as you are – the sum total of all of my life’s experiences and all of the things I have ever read, watched, and heard before. Where I absolutely know that a notion is someone else’s (who I can attribute to as such), I will do so as I cannot stand people who portray ideas/thoughts/concepts as their own that aren’t which is practically every person on the interwebs nowadays. That being said, there are things in life that I never heard of before and that simply came from a feeling in my heart – for example, how much women overly apologize – and I expressed these thoughts well before I had ever heard anyone else express them and waaaaay before anyone ever wrote any book about “stopping to apologize.” (*rolls eyes* CAN’T STAND HER, but I digress). Therefore, you’ll have to forgive me if I say something that has been said a million times before; it is 10000% sure going to happen as we – as humans – often have common experiences/learnings/viewpoints/lenses.

To continue with the disclaimers, here’s a biggie… I love to curse. This is always an interesting disclaimer, because I know that there are “holier than thou” types who would “like me so much more” (like, people have told me this) if I “didn’t use *foul* language,” but what is funny to me about that is that my language says absolutely nothing about my character, values, or fundamental goodness. What is extra funny is that – while you are thinking someone else may be “good” because of how they speak sans curse words – I can assure you that, unlike that seemingly perfect and proper person, this rough-around-the-edges-unpolished-loves-to-drop-an-F-bomb human would stand for and with you in your life’s most trying times no matter the cost or risk to me. If you can say that in full confidence about those who don’t offend your senses as I do, awesome, but I am done “toning myself down” or dampening who I am authentically to be more broadly pleasing.

Instead, I revel in being narrowly pleasing and forever polarizing. While most people aspire to be liked by the masses (to be able to ultimately, at the root of nearly everything, “sell” to the largest audience) I want to be liked by my people… my like-minded and similar-valued tribe and divergents of this world who have already filtered themselves from the masses and emerged in my life and will continue to do so. I refuse to spend my one and only life aiming to be pleasing or worrying about being liked as I already wasted so much of it doing exactly that. Hate me? Good. That means I’ve pushed your buttons and challenged your thinking. Indifferent or TBD? Awesome, and I appreciate you sticking around to decide. Love me? Thank you, and I will never be able to fully express the depths of my gratitude to those who make me feel seen, heard, and known.

One last thing… Actually, two. I write as I speak, so if you are a “grammar nazi” or feel that I am adulterating the English language, I AM as I have made up my own way of speaking and writing. To me, creative writing is just like art, and there is no one way to do it; I am not looking to be known as a “literary genius” (ermm… because I am the fuuuuurthest thing from one), so #sorrynotsorry if you can’t stand my “style” of writing. I am simply not for you, and that is okay.

& now the actual last thing… my greatest joy in writing has been the conversations that emerge and community that is grown, so please – whether it be on my posts or in private messages – always feel free to reach out. Maybe you’re not there yet in being able to share your personal truth publicly and perhaps you might not ever be, but, sometimes, just saying it aloud to someone knowing that you won’t be judged can be incredibly healing, and there has been nothing more rewarding and meaningful to me than those who trust me to be that person.

K, I think that is enough disclaimers for now, so, on that note… I am stepping into “Smita Shares” (let’s stay connected below!) fully with purpose, passion, and conviction, and I am so deeply honored by and grateful for whoever bears witness to me finally doing the thing that I was always meant to do “when I grew up.”

With love,

 

 

 

Stay connected by liking Smita Shares or following me on my personal page (I’m sorry that I cannot become friends with everyone up front, and I’m not saying that it won’t ever happen, but I just require us to connect on a personal level before it does and hope you’d want the same)

 

I have been back to the States for 25 days. 25 loooong days. Whereas 2 months flew by at lightning speed in India and felt far too short, every day back in America has felt like a week, and I knew that this was exactly how it would feel as I recalled how every return back from India before this one has felt. Accordingly, although I was so thrilled to be reunited with my beloved dad at the airport, I cried for a good chunk of the ride back home looking out and seeing a completely pristine and unicolor landscape (gray concrete buildings everywhere) that felt murderous to my soul. Dramatic, I know, but I don’t know how else to describe it as I tried stifling my tears as I basically choked on them hoping not to cause my dad any distress. Naturally, the tears and my perception of time both say a lot about how India feels to me and how I, most importantly, feel in India.

In addition to my last post in which I talked about the possibilities (relationship and professional) that I explored in my second month and am still exploring remotely, I have been in continued reflection and introspection about my Motherland feels, and I have landed on the following…

I love the chaos… Everywhere that my hyper-privileged self has ever lived or visited in America feels far too orderly, logical, and perfect, and one would think that these would be good and much-desired things (especially considering that it is this exact life that my parents sought over 40 years when they left India forever seeking a “better life” in America), but, for me personally, they have always made me uneasy and felt stifling. I do not know if it is the expectation that I am supposed to want to be a part of and, accordingly, fit into/live up to this perfection – which I do not aspire towards – that has tormented me or that, in this perceived perfection (fully knowing many lives of quiet suffering lie beneath outward “perfect” appearances), I have always felt like an outsider and that who I really am is dulled and diminished in comparison to how I feel when I am in India. Which is as if I belong. Everyone and everything is “mine/my own.” Joyful and at peace.

What is so interesting about this recent trip is that friends who have known me in person/virtually (many of whom are no less “real friends” to me in every way) observed this marked difference. Through what I shared via photos, posts, and stories, they said things like: “We’ve never seen you happier” or “more vibrant” and “alive” as well as “we’ve seen you happy at home with your family, but this is different.” It is absolutely different and always has been; every trip to India since I was little has felt like “this is home” and being born and raised in America has always felt like a “mis-janam” (mis-birth).

This most recent trip reminded me of all of this in very powerful and profound ways, and I fully internalized that – other than my attachment to my family (totally unhealthy when it comes to my parents in that I feel selfish for when considering moving and they have often tried to emotionally manipulate me to stay close to them and make me feel guilty for wanting to leave even though they know that I despise the DC area) – there is no reason I should not go and see what is possible in India. Whether it is living there for 6 months and being back in the States for 6, continuing to be open to relationship prospects (interestingly, after 2 years of not being open to dating before India, I resumed my “not interested” status now that I’m back), and/or exploring various pursuits (professional, business, & making an impact), I am down for any and all of it.

& yes, sure, I feel so guilty, awful, and selfish considering leaving my parents and family in general (as they are all in this area), but my bigger fear is – as I already have considering that I (as someone who loves people & is social by nature) do absolutely nothing here – making them my whole life and then, one day, when one parent passes, never leaving home and making the other parent my entire life, and, ultimately, having no life of my own once that second parent passes. That being said, my parents did the same 40+ years ago… they left their families and everything they knew in pursuit of what felt better for them, so I’m embarking on a similar journey. Just in reverse.

Oh, and one last thing… Because I know these people are out there, yes, I absolutely know that I have only really “done India” as a guest, which is a very different experience and largely contributes to how I feel there, but I feel that I owe it to myself to explore it nonetheless.