Author: Esha Kode

everything I’ve learned about life as a freshly turned 24-year-old

by Esha Kode

I turned 24 today. Oof.

Inspired by Dolly Alderton’s Everything I Know About Love, I decided to outline everything I’ve learned about life as a 24-year-old, so here it goes.

  1. When all else fails, chocolate devotion at Cold Stone Creamery, specifically the one in Franklin Park Township, will solve all your problems. I’m telling you, you’ll see heaven.
  2. Be spontaneous. Just do things without thinking too much. Not everything needs to be planned out all the time.
  3. Be your friends’ plus-one at birthday parties, housewarmings, ragers, whatever. Just go with them. This is my newly found favorite activity. It is so much fun to meet new people and even form a friendship with mutuals of mutuals. Makes for a cool story too. Dare I say that it also comes with free food, free alcohol, free laughs, and most importantly, free pong tournaments?
  4. You’re not a horrible person. Chances are you’re just an immature 20-something-year-old who’s still trying to find their footing in life. As long as you’re well-intentioned, you don’t need to hold yourself to this insanely high standard of being a saint because you will inevitably fail. In the words of the icon coffee date #44, “I like to just be as I am. I just want to be a human. I do not want to be a good human. I do not want to be a perfect human. I just want to be human with the emotions, thoughts, and not necessarily name them as good emotions or good thoughts. Just a human being with thoughts and emotions with all this beauty inside of me no matter what.” – Laasya Mangalampalli, 2023
  5. Don’t be so quick to make judgements about people. Everyone’s really messy and everyone’s a product of quite literally everything they’ve ever experienced or felt. So really, who am I to write people off?
  6. Joy is a form of resistance. No human is illegal. Human rights apply to all humans – man, woman, trans, cis, fluid, religious or not, Christians, Arabs, Palestinians, Hindus, Muslims, all of us. We’re all together.
  7. Dating. Oh boy. Shoot me in the head.
  8. Don’t be on the apps if you’re in search of the “love of your life.” The apps should be used purely for practice and entertainment purposes. I had a blast during my one year on Hinge. I was having the time of my life meeting some cool boys, eating some great food, drinking some great drinks, and then partying with my friends right after.
  9. Speaking of dates, plan your dates so they fit into your night out with your friends. This not only takes away a lot of pressure, but it also prevents you from overanalyzing everything post-date because you’re too busy taking shots and bussing it down to some 2000s throwbacks with your friends. I literally went on a 45-minute date, had my two friends (s/o Shivdaballer and Sruthi) chilling at a Starbucks nearby, and then proceeded to go to a friend’s birthday party shortly after. 10/10 night.
  10. Don’t get so infatuated by the idea of love that you start to forget who you are and get enveloped in the idea of being chosen by somebody. Live in the present. Form judgements based on objective facts rather than the “what if” thoughts. Love will find you. Relax. It’s not meant to be rushed.
  11. It’s easy to fall in love. It’s harder to stay in love. Ask yourself, “Sure, I love this person but do I like this person?”
  12. Marry your best friend! At least, I think that’s what you’re supposed to do?
  13. Pour as much as you can into your platonic relationships. Show up to as many birthdays as you can. Have existential conversations with your friends. Travel the world with them. Have sleepovers. Connect different parts of your world together – be the person who brings people together.
  14. Abundance. Abundance. Abundance. There’s no shortage of love. No one’s abandoning you. The people you hold close to your heart also hold you close to their heart. They’re allowed to form new relationships; that does not mean that they’re doing so at the expense of you. Their world is just expanding, just like yours does, and they’re making room for more love. Who doesn’t love more love?
  15. No one will ever piss you off and enrage you as much as your parents. Most of the time you’ll feel like you’re taking one step forward and ten steps backwards. But that’s okay. Your job, as their child, is not to change them (because that’s a rather laborious feat). Your job, as their child, is to acknowledge whatever love that they are able to give and attempt to let go of the rest. Harder said than done for sure.
  16. Unfortunately or fortunately, it is also your parents that you will seek the most amount of validation from. A child’s always a child.
  17. Maybe this is the time when you’ll start softening up a bit and recognize that your caregivers aren’t really superheroes; they’re just people. Really messy people, just like you.
  18. Delete Instagram for a month or two. Challenge yourself. Live without the eyes of others, most of whom you probably don’t even know. Go on a trip without Instagram and sit with how that makes you feel – living without needing to scream to social media that you are living.
  19. Read!!! Being transported to different worlds and lives and thoughts is surprisingly exhilarating. So much less toxic than watching the Secret Lives of Mormon Wives for hours on end.
  20. Get a tattoo. More than the tattoo, make the experience of getting that tattoo exciting. Exhibit A: my arm.
  21. Journal every night.
  22. Eat more so you can move more.
  23. Walk outside. No headphones. No phone. Listen to the birds. Feel the wind. This is the anxiety cure.
  24. Therapy feels like a warm, weighted blanket hug. Everyone deserves to feel hugged.
  25. Watch movies with Nani. Laughing with her is oddly comforting. You forget all your rage and just want to lay there and watch for hours on end because well, suddenly, it seems real that you won’t have this forever.
  26. It is very possible to work alongside people who share wildly opposing political beliefs and values.
  27. Don’t be so afraid of money. Make money and do some good with it. The rest, use it for adventures, for supporting the people you love, and for just living your life. Nothing wrong with money. I trust you enough to not get carried away with the attention and access that money gets you, so just have fun with it and be responsible with it.
  28. You won’t always get closure in relationships. In romantic situations or even platonic situations. Without closure, it’s easy for your brain to short circuit and get carried away with many thoughts. This is the worst part. Short circuit for a while and then find a way to release.
  29. Daily movement has saved my life. No joke. I get out of my mind and into my body.
  30. Medicate for your mental health, if needed. What’s the point in feeling so whoozy all the time and burning yourself to the ground if there’s a way to support you? If you take an Advil every month when on your period, then I don’t see why it’s such a big deal to take a Xanax to calm your nervous system.
  31. Your brother, the one who’s six years younger than you, will inspire you, motivate you, roast you, and drive you insane. But you’ll never love someone as much as you love your little bro.
  32. Very few people will have seen absolutely everything in your life. Even fewer people will know exactly what you’re feeling and when you’re feeling it. And at times, it can be annoying. But more often than not, it makes you feel oh so seen and loved. Keep those people close. Love you Ravs.
  33. The cure to menstrual cramps: Advil, incline walking, alcohol. Choose one out of three. Do not do all three or your liver will hate me.
  34. Don’t forget to play. My aunt and uncle have shown me this repeatedly. They have this innate playfulness that radiates outward. No matter how old you are, you must remember to play, to have fun, to laugh, and to just be a kid (an appropriate kid, of course).
  35. Make sure you transfer money from your savings to your checkings before a night out. Or else you’ll end up at the bar, paying for 10 rounds of shots for 5 different people and your card will naturally decline. And your drunk self won’t comprehend why.
  36. Tretinoin + azelaic acid + 2 L of water a day = glowy skin at your service.
  37. Shake shack is a much better post-night out meal than Taco Bell. #Shroomburgers
  38. It’s easier to do things first and then ask Amma and Nanna for forgiveness. Example: getting a tattoo, hiding it for a week, and then doing the big reveal. Following a 20 minute freak out session, all is well.
  39. The movies that will bring you out of whatever type of rut you’re in: Remember the Titans. Dear Zindagi. Good Will Hunting. Bommarillu. Dead Poets Society.
  40. Self improvement is great. But don’t take it so far to the point where you nitpick every action and decision of yours. The attempt for perfection will ricochet and cause more harm than good. Life is meant to be lived in the gray, in the color, with the nuance.

I do feel older and that’s causing my chest to tighten a bit. I’m closer to 25 now than 19, which means I’m closer to 30 than I am to 19, which means I’m an adult and no longer a child.

But time is the only constant we have in life. Or so they say.

So I guess I have no choice.

Here it goes. We’ll figure it out as it comes. Onwards and upwards.

this house of grief

by Esha Kode

This House of Grief by Helen Garner is a true story that chronicles the murder trial of Robert Farquharson, who is eventually charged for driving into a dam and drowning his three sons – Jai, 10, Tyler, 7, and Bailey, 2.

The minute I read the first few words of this book, I knew it was game over for me. I began this book with 0 empathy for Farquharson. I figured the book would just amplify and justify this deep anger that everyone must have felt for this man. Garner, however, is brilliant, kind, and the most empathetic of all. She chose to write this book by inserting herself into it, as a spectator and a member of the courtroom. This choice allowed me to navigate my feelings along with hers.

Because of Garner’s detailing of this macabre disaster, I was once again reminded that I must not embody such a black-and-white worldview. She allowed me to find my empathy again.

Initially, I was fueled with thoughts like:

  • “How can a parent even think of hurting their children?”
  • “He must be a psychopath.”
  • “Actually, he’s probably yet another angry man who didn’t know how to handle being rejected by a woman, so he chose violence.”

And then something shifted. As Garner recounted the witnesses’ testimonies, they all described Farquharson to be rather ordinary, even bland; he was a regular, boring guy, a “bloke,” who was trying to figure out how to make some money and was distraught when his wife asked for a divorce. I mean, he even held the door open for Garner at the committal hearing. A psychopath wouldn’t do that, right?

I was most compelled by his ex-wife, Cindy Gambino’s, confident belief that Farquharson did not and would not harm his children. Couple that belief with Gambino’s parents and with a whole bunch of people from the community who kept reiterating that Farquharson was a normal guy who showed up for his kids and would never harm them.

Before you even open the book, if you just google Robert Farquharson you know that he was found guilty, not once, but twice, and is still in jail for the murder of his three children. So you already know the outcome of the book, but you feel compelled to keep flipping the page and I credit Garner’s ability to empathize for this. She showed me that it’s not necessarily a matter of “did he do it or not?”; it’s more so a desire to want to know why because it is so unfathomable to us and almost makes us fear ourselves. Because if a regular, shemgular guy like Robert Farquharson can commit such a heinous act, then can’t we all?

I mean don’t we all, to some extent, have some sort of weird, little voice brewing inside of us? For some of us, it’s small and controlled. For others, it’s bigger and constant and it takes over. So are we really that different from Farquharson? If we were in a similar situation, would we hug our children and drown with them if we had run out of options? I sure hope so, but somehow I find myself questioning that. Are we really as “good” and “righteous” as we say we are? Or are we selective with our righteousness?

Garner ends the book with the following:

“Every stranger grieves for them. Every stranger’s heart is broken. The children’s fate is our legitimate concern. They are ours to mourn. They belong to all of us now.”

Those last few sentences sucker punched me in the gut. It woke me up out of my trance. I was so invested in trying to figure out if Farquharson intentionally killed his children that I had forgotten to mourn for the children. They died a painful death, thinking that they were safe in the company of their father.

They are ours to mourn. They do belong to all of us now.

aging

by Esha Kode

Now that I’ve gotten into medical school, I’m unsettled by the amount of time I suddenly have on my hands. It feels like a fast-moving train has come to an abrupt halt. It’s this abrupt halt that forced some revelations.

I’ve been seeing my caretakers with softer eyes. As one recently told me, “now that you’re at the end of this long journey, you’re able to think more clearly and let go of things that no longer serve you.” Letting go, in this case, of the complex feelings that I held towards the adults in my life.

Amma, I’m noticing her hunched back and grayer strands. Her callused hands as she hustles between the kitchen, corporate life, and care-taking for her mother and mother-in-law. I notice the tiredness surround her eyes, and yet her willingness to still make something for me after a long day of work. I’m noticing that she’s trying after our conversation, to be better, to meet her children where they’re at, to not force us to love but rather allow us to love at our own pace. She messes up constantly, but I’m noticing that I’m not as cruel or quick to scold.

Nanna, the man I thought was physically and emotionally unbreakable, has officially broken. His back has given out and his heart almost followed, but a newly-placed stent has caused him to have his own little “abrupt train halt” moment. He has finally accepted that no family is perfect and ours is far from perfect. He’s realized that his kids may have more wisdom to share than he once thought. Friends are important, friends become safe spaces and should become safe spaces. More importantly, he’s a man who has realized that emotional strength does not come from giving pieces of yourself away, but rather from feeding yourself with love, acceptance, help, joy, and more. He’s a man who has realized that therapy is not just for his daughter, but also perhaps, for him. I’m noticing that in many ways, maybe Nanna has become more unbreakable as he himself is learning to live within his mind and body.

And then there’s Nani, the powerhouse of a woman who raised me. Who I actually thought was unbreakable. I now see her, trying to battle her own body, struggling to compete with her once-upon-a-time youth and youthful engagement. She can no longer cook a curry in one sitting; it now takes multiple. Her once, although invisible, biceps were filled with strength. Now it’s covered with left over marks from numerous injections and blood work jabs. Her smile is still the same, but her face has lost its radiance. Some docs blame it on her kidneys, others blame it on her joints, a few blame it on her psyche. Who knows?

As I view these three adults, who were and still are my guardians, I’ve discovered the circle of life. Perhaps we’re all just big babies living in adult bodies. I’ve learned to adopt Dr. Gabor Maté’s principle that our adult behaviors, actions, and feelings are a product of our childhood experiences. So I’m softer now, seeing the adults as scared, abandoned children who’ve worked relentlessly to build a life for themselves.

i’m a reader now?

by Esha Kode

I was never the bookworm kid. Even when all the children were obsessed with books, I was never one of them. I was the movie/TV show buff. I’d love coming home just in time for my Disney and CW channel shows. I’d rush to pee during the commercial breaks (yes, remember those?) and aspired to be the Disney channel kids using their magic wands.

I was still a creative, obsessed with playing pretend-doctor and teacher games. And I loved being outdoors, wreaking havoc with my cousins. But I was absolutely never into books. In fact, there was a point in time when I was at a level M or something in reading, while the rest of my elementary school peers were at a Level X. My Dad would kindly suggest that I occasionally pick up a book, but I just never could fathom the idea of sitting and reading.

During COVID, however, the unthinkable happened: I started reading. I literally held books and read them from beginning to end. Truly shocking. In fact, these days I’ve resorted to reading instead of Netflixing before bed. What the hell is happening to me?

I give all the credit for my newfound love for reading to the one & only Khaled Hosseini, an Afghan-American physician and author, who wrote the incredible The Kite Runner. This book has singlehandedly changed my life. It cracked my heart open and made me weep and ruminate for days after I finished it.

Never did I think that a book, of all things, would teach me so much and impact me as deeply as this one did. That’s when I realized that the adults, like my all-time favorite 2nd grade teacher, Ms. Wahlgreen, who always articulated the importance of reading, may actually have a point. I never believed it when they said “reading builds empathy, creativity, and even an attention span.” People, I am here to tell you that ALL OF THAT IS TRUE. Trust me. As someone who has never once picked up a book for pleasure before her 23rd birthday, I can now attest to all of the benefits of reading. More importantly, I can now say that I am able to feel feelings that I didn’t think were possible until after having read a few books.

It’s wild that everything that we were told to do as children, but never wanted to do, is exactly what we want to do now as adults. I wish I could just sit in a cozy little corner of my home and read for hours, discovering as many lives as I can.

Since reading The Kite Runner, I’ve been on a mission to continue to dive into worlds, gain better cultural and worldly understanding, and care deeply for people through books. Some of them have made me laugh out loud (The Sweet Spot by Amy Peoppel is easy, wholesome, and fun), while others have made me want to sob for days (Hosseini’s other masterpiece, A Thousand Splendid Suns). I’m just shocked that reading has actually been influential in my life. You know I get excited to walk into a library now? Like, who am I?

During a time when much is happening domestically and globally, I feel like educating ourselves is how we stay in control, especially when many higher-ups are trying to censor crucial information. Books are a major way for us to stay connected, continue learning, and deeply care for each other regardless of who we are and where we come from.

So, sip your coffees, grab a book, and flip through the pages. Happy reading! 🙂

what is love?: [answered]

by Esha Kode

Ordinary love is the best kind of love ❣️

  1. “May our home be a place where people can accept themselves.”
  2. “We don’t hide behind each other. That we have our own identity and are at one with ourselves. That we’re not hiding behind another person or expecting them to fulfill what is important to us.”
  3. “Ordinary is extraordinary. If you think of your life, it’s the little things–the ordinary little things–that are very meaningful and you don’t forget them. Little kindnesses, little actions that you don’t expect to happen are the ordinary. And I think one of the most ordinary things that we humans are made to do is to be present and listen to each other. And I think it’s only when we stop that we see the extraordinary in the ordinary. When we really stop and feel and hear.”

dear diary, what even is love?

by Esha Kode

As someone who has never been in love, I’ve been thinking about it a lot recently. What is it? How do you know when you feel it? What is it supposed to feel like? What are you supposed to do with it? So many questions, very few answers.

This video popped up on my feed today. The person states that in a romantic relationship these three things are what we should be looking for:

  1. You have to be deeply in love with someone as an individual, separate from who they are in connection to you.
  2. Do I love the way they love me, the way they show up for me and support me?
  3. Do I love the kind of life in the world that they are trying to create? Because, as a partner, I will inevitably be creating that with them.

When I first watched the reel, I completely agreed with him and connected with these three things profoundly. It makes sense and it aligns with everything that I so deeply believe in: maintaining a sense of independence in a relationship, being loved in a way where your own needs are being met, and having your partner simply be an addition to your life.

Hours later, I’m still thinking about it, and I just feel more confused. It feels like everything about love is made up of shoulds and should-nots.

Love should feel easy, but it should also require work.
Love should make you feel butterflies in your stomach.
Oh wait no, actually the butterflies are a warning sign that indicate the presence of threat and fear.
Love should feel exhilarating and euphoric.
But you shouldn’t lose yourself too deeply.
Love should amplify all the good things in your life that already exist.
But it shouldn’t take away anything or make you dependent on someone.

It’s exhausting and confusing. The one thing I do know and strongly believe in, though, is that love may begin as a feeling, but it eventually becomes a choice – we have to actively continue to choose to love the person throughout the entirety of the relationship. And this is scary because that’s a boat load of trust we have to place in someone else. Love inevitably requires trust, but that trust is built on courage. I’ve come to realize that the ability to love someone and the ability to allow someone else to love us takes a massive amount of courage, and I simply do not have that level of bravery at this moment.

I’m a lost soul when it comes to love. The more I think and see things about love, the more confused I get. Maybe none of us actually know how to describe love because we’re intellectualizing it so much to the point where it lost its true meaning? I don’t know.



my grandma turned 78 today. here’s what I learned from her.

by Esha Kode
This was taken nearly a decade ago. Clearly, the Kode siblings were not fans of the camera back in the day, but hey, at least you can see my very youthful looking granny in the back.

I was raised largely by my paternal grandmother (aka Nani), a woman whose presence defined my childhood in many ways. With both my parents working demanding IT jobs, leaving early in the morning and coming home just in time for dinner, it was my grandmother who got me all dolled up for school, made kickass chicken curry regularly, and played with me after school. All the adults in my life surely played their part in my upbringing, but it was my grandma who became my caregiver when my parents weren’t there.

Like with my parents, my relationship with Nani wasn’t always easy. As a kid, you tend to see your caregivers as superheroes, incredibly perfect. I held my grandmother to those same impossibly perfect standards. But as you grow and develop an identity that is independent from theirs, you realize they’re just people too, with their own flaws.

Everyone has a story, and those stories shape who we become. It can be difficult to hold space for someone’s story, especially when their actions haven’t always been kind. But after letting go of the anger I once held toward my grandmother, I can now, a decade later, carry her story with me. I see how her actions were deeply influenced by decades of adversity. Here’s what I’ve come to understand about her, and what her 78 years of life have taught me:

  1. My grandma was a single mother raising my father back in India during a time when divorce and single motherhood were heavily stigmatized. I’m sure my grandma (more than my grandpa) faced a lot of backlash, criticism, and unsolicited advice from those around her, yet she stood her ground and made a life for herself and her son. While she may not have been perfect, her resilience is something I deeply admire.
  2. Nani, a now 78 year old woman, was born 27 years before Roe v. Wade , and yet, she always firmly believed in a woman’s right to choose. 📢 I’ve met countless women her age, or even younger, who so vehemently deny a woman a right to live the way she wants to live in her own body. And then there’s my grandma, someone who was raised in a traditional Indian household. She was ahead of her time.
  3. Speaking of being ahead of her time, my grandma is also a fashionista who is always somehow up-to-date with the ever-changing fashion trends. I was the kid who would wear the same sweats and pair of UGG boots to school every day. Seeing my lack of fashion, Nani would say “Why don’t you wear those ripped jeans? Everyone’s wearing them now” or she’d advise that I part my hair to the side because “middle parts are out of fashion now.” Her love for style was, at the time, annoying. But now, looking back, it’s rather comical and cute.
  4. She’s also one of the bravest/strongest people I know—physically and mentally. Not only did she survive a tumultuous marriage and subsequent divorce, but she survived financial problems, the death of her parents, and even her rocky relationships with her siblings. She was also just insanely physically strong. She’d pop open pickle jars none of us could manage, and when there was a snake on our porch, she handled it with just a broom and battled it out – singlehandedly. I mean, ten-year-old Esha was mesmerized. I used to love falling asleep next to her, with her arm around my tummy, knowing that I’d be safe with her.
  5. I love Nani’s love for learning. She’s a tenth grade graduate from India. She’s always doing some crossword puzzle or word search book. Her English isn’t fluent, yet she bravely practices it with everyone from the lawn mower guy to the doctors to government officials, always willing to put herself out there. She’s even picked up new ways to do hair and skincare routines, finding joy in learning something new regularly.
  6. Childhood trauma is real folks. Its impacts are lifelong and my grandma is a testament to that. As Dr. Gabor Maté always says, our physical health is deeply linked with our mental health, and those who endure some sort of childhood trauma eventually become the adults with the autoimmune diseases, cancers, and other physical ailments because these conditions are the body’s way of responding to that trauma. Dr. Maté’s insights on how trauma manifests physically resonate deeply with me when I see her.

In many ways, my chaotic relationship with my grandmother has taught me one of life’s most important lessons: that love doesn’t require perfection. She’s shown me how to (and sometimes how not to) face challenges, to always keep learning, and to embrace life with courage. She’s given me so much to carry forward, and for that, I am forever grateful. Happy 78th birthday, Nani ❤️ Let’s chow down some wings tonight.

having a ‘Girl Dad’

by Esha Kode

As an Indian-American girl, my relationship with my parents has been a BUMPY rollercoaster ride, to say the least. In particular, my relationship with my father fluctuated greatly throughout the years. Despite having my differences with him, Papa Kode said something the other day that I will forever cherish.

A few weeks ago, I found out that one relative was shit talking me behind my back. It is almost impossible to keep things a secret in Indian families, so her words eventually reached my amazing ears. When I first heard what she had been yapping, I couldn’t help but laugh because a) none of it was true (obviously) and b) she stooped so low that it actually was purely comedic.

I responded to that in a rather impulsive and selfish way, but I wanted my Dad to know so I could gauge how he’d react. So, I casually dropped this news during lunch the other day and my dad was just in complete shock – he had no idea. I guess her words never reached him.

After intently listening to our gossip queen spill the tea, Papa Kode said the following words:

“I don’t care what these people think of you Esha Amma. I trust you, I know you, and that’s all that matters.”

#GirlDad.

Hearing Papa Kode say those words had my childhood self SCREAMING and BEAMING with happiness. I didn’t give a rat’s ass about what some lame desi auntie was saying, but I did give A LOT of shits about what my parents were thinking. Now, if my dad had chosen to believe that rando over me, then I would’ve simply cocooned into my cave and moved on with my life knowing that my parents don’t know anything about me. However, considering that he did not, in fact, choose a rando over me, made all the difference in helping me re-shift my childhood opinion of my own father.

You see, the reason why this is so groundbreakingly amazing is because our culture is hellbent on letting society dictate the way we view ourselves and approach the world. People pleasing is so deeply rooted in our culture that it’s not something that I can just teach my parents about – it’s something that they themselves have to be willing to see and understand. Therefore, when that auntie said “negative” things about our family, specifically the Indian daughter who’s utter purpose in life is supposedly to people please her entire existence, I thought the situation would unfold more as a dramatic Bollywood film. To my surprise, there was a major plot twist. For that, I am grateful and in fact, proud of Papa Kode for being a #GirlDad.

Let’s try to figure out what the phrase ‘Girl Dad’ even implies:

For starters, Fatherhood is not talked about nearly as much as Motherhood. We expect mothers to be mothers, so we don’t necessarily value the idea of motherhood as much as we probably should. On the other hand, when we think of a man, we don’t automatically equate his worth to his role as a father. In fact, when we see a man being a great dad, we’re almost taken aback, as if we’re collectively surprised that a father is….well, fathering. We revere fathers and downplay mothers, but I digress.

According to The Dad, here’s what being a ‘Girl Dad’ means:

“Being a girl dad is about working to make the world better for you girls…..There’s nothing we could teach to our sons that we can’t teach to our daughters, but there’s a lot that our daughters can teach us. We recognize the importance of raising strong, independent women. We also recognize that there are stigmas, stereotypes, and inequalities that exist that stand in the way of our daughters being whatever they want to be, and it’s our job to help knock those down.”

I do want to note that it’s also important that being a ‘Boy Dad’ is equally important because young boys are also suffering with the pressures that come with the idea of ‘being man enough.’ Just parenthood in general ya’ll….there are so many ways to screw us up. I digress again – apologies.

I want to end this by saying that I am proud of Nanna for being a kickass #GirlDad the other day. I hope that we can reach a point where all parents are rooting for all of their kids. I also hope that we as a society reach a point where we can offer support to all parents/caretakers/guardians to help them become emotionally mature adults so that they can raise emotionally mature children in a safe, nurturing environment.❣️

One Day….after-effects

by Esha Kode
Image Source: Netflix

There’s A LOT I wanna say about the incredible casting, the double-standards for women (and women of color) in the romantic genre, THE REPRESENTATION, the story, and much more. But, for right now, I wanna talk about a single part from the show that absolutely wrecked my soul.

For those of you who watched Ambika Mod and Leo Woodall’s One Day on Netflix, like many others, you must’ve been ruminating about the entire series for days afterward.

Same here.

My initial understanding of the show was that love is rarely ever grand. In fact, love is built on those small, consecutive moments of rawness and a solid base of friendship. It reminded all of us to screw up, make mistakes, learn from those mistakes / hold our people close, just say ‘i love you’ to the people who matter to you / it’s never too late to do something, it’s never too early to do something / our words matter / fame is just a source of external validation, chasing after it will create volatile lives / pain looks different for everyone / love is truly beautiful, and we are all worthy of it.

I got all of that from the show, but it’s what my therapist told me afterwards that totally shook my mind. She reminded me of the scene where Emma reads an excerpt from Thomas Hardy’s Tess of the D’Urbervilles to Dexter.

That excerpt essentially says:

We all have a birthday, a day in which we’re born. We tend to celebrate it every year because we know of the date and we may even know of the exact time that we were welcomed into this world.

We all also do have a deathday, a day in which we die. However, we never celebrate it because well….1) that’s morbid and 2) we have no idea when it is.

Thus, every single year, we stumble through our death day, and it remains “sly and unseen” intelligently masked by the rest of the ‘ordinary’ days. And yet, that same day that you spent in 2006 opening Christmas presents, in 2018 getting married, or in 2024 crying in the shower, might very well become your last day in this realm of the world.

That shook me.

This helped to give some sort of meaning to the cliché phrase “live each day to its fullest.” The reason to live each day to the fullest is because we have no idea if this day, today, is our “sly and unseen” death day that’s coming up in 5, 10, 15, 45 years. It’s just a normal day today, but it can become one of the most important days in the future.

Still ruminating about this while the show continues to tug at my heart…..