Who are you becoming in the process

Some time back, a friend called me.

She told me she admired my courage.

That walking out of my marriage made me an inspiration — to her, to many women.

It felt flattering in the moment.

But after the call ended, something inside me went quiet.

And two truths surfaced.

The first —

people usually admire what they are secretly longing to become.

The second —

my courage was never in walking away.

Anyone can leave from anger.

From hatred.

From revenge.

From the need to prove a point.

That wasn’t courage for me.

For me, courage was something far more difficult.

It was not letting my heart harden

towards the man with whom I once dreamt an entire life.

It was leaving without bitterness.

On the day I walked out of that house,

I didn’t slam doors.

I didn’t curse the memories.

I touched the walls quietly.

And I prayed to Laddu Radha —

may this house be blessed with happiness.

That was the moment I felt free.

Not because I left the marriage.

But because I left without carrying poison inside me.

Over the years, I’ve met many people.

People who stay in relationships that no longer serve them

and slowly turn bitter — at their partner, at life, at themselves.

I’ve spoken to single mothers who are no longer with their exes,

yet still live with them every day —

through resentment, grudges, unfinished conversations.

Separated, but not free.

And that’s the part we rarely sit with.

Leaving doesn’t automatically make you brave.

Staying doesn’t automatically make you weak.

The real question is quieter.

Harder.

More uncomfortable.

What is this doing to your softness?

What is it shaping you into?

Because you can walk away and still remain bound.

And you can stay long enough

to lose the very parts of yourself you once promised to protect.

This is the space I hold.

Not to tell you what to do.

Not to decide for you.

But to slow things down enough

for you to notice what is happening inside you

before bitterness feels justified

before hardness feels like survival.

Sometimes, the bravest thing

is not the decision you make —

but the person you refuse to become in the process.

For me, this is where courage actually begins. And if you wish to find that courage in you, you know where to find me.