The Weight of Love

Somewhere between growing up and giving up, we lose ourselves. We lose our voices in the noise of expectations. We often find ourselves trapped in a cycle of expectations—expectations set not by us but by those who claim to love us the most. We lose our dreams in the weight of responsibilities.

And worst of all? We lose our right to choose what makes us happy—all in the name of love, care, and society.

“This isn’t just a story.”

“This is the reality, my heartbreaking reality.”

A story of dreams, struggles, and the suffocating weight of societal norms. A story of wanting to be heard but always being silenced.

There comes a time in life when you stop asking questions because you already know the answers. Or at least, that’s what I’ve been told.

“This is how life works.”

“You will understand when you grow up.”

“Parents always know what’s best.”

But I have one question that no one seems to answer—

What about me and my wills?

The day I passed my senior high school, I was not just another student stepping into college—I was a dreamer. A girl with a vision.

I had a dream—a dream to build something of my own, something that would contribute to a better world. I was excited, hopeful, and ready to take the first step toward my journey. I always wanted to make or create something which belongs to me clearly, to whom I can say that it is mine and nobody can get rid of me from this place.

I wasn’t asking for millions.

“I was just asking for support and a chance.”

“A chance to build. A chance to prove myself.”

But when I shared my idea, my parents didn’t even take a moment to consider it. The answer was immediate— No.

As if it was a joke.

“It’s a waste of time.”

“Business is not for us.”

“Just focus on your studies.”

I tried hard to convince them, to explain my vision, but nothing changed. To them, I was too young, too naive, too inexperienced.

I mean seriously?

If i don't even try to learn, how would i get experience?

By eating?

Or by just sleeping?

Anyways, I didn’t stop here. I secretly started working on it, reaching out to people online through groups, community on social media, hoping for guidance, for opportunities. I knocked on every door I could find. But life is cruel or you can say This fucking world just fucked my luck.

I was either ignored or rejected.

And after two years of trying, fighting, failing, I was left with nothing.

Eventually, I had to accept reality—this dream was over before it even started.

My dream remained just that—a dream.

A fucked dream…

I knew I couldn’t sit still. I would create another path for myself. That’s when I decided to start an HR consultancy.

This time, I didn’t ask for anyone’s approval. I registered the company, created social media pages, and put in all my efforts to get my first deal.

And I did it.

My first contract. Five lakhs.

I still remember the excitement I felt—finally, something was working out.

I had to hire 500 employees for a company that manufactures electric products. It was a golden opportunity, the beginning of something great. It was a big task, but I was ready.

But before I could even celebrate and enjoy the first taste of success, my father found out.

Can you even believe it?

Just like before, he ended it by giving some stupid reasons.

“You are a student, you should focus on your studies.”

“This is a distraction, not a career.”

He canceled my contract. Just like that.

Without even discussing it with me. Without even considering how much effort I had put into it.

And that was it. My first and last contract.

I don’t even know whether to laugh or cry. Because at this point, what else is left? I was totally fucked up by my own….*

“I wanted to scream the ridiculousness of it all.”

My dream died twice… and no one cares! And of course why would anyone care about it? Afterall, it doesn't belong to them!

Now, I am just six months away from completing my Master’s degree.

And guess what?

Once again…!

Once again, My life has already been decided for me.

Oh my god i can't even explain my frustration…

My father wants me to become a government servant. And after that?

After that, I would have to get married to a guy they have chosen for me.

Just like that.

No questions. No choices. No discussion at all.

And here I am, wondering—what about me?

What about my dreams?

What about my happiness?

I ask myself every single day—

“They say they love me.”

“They say they care for me.”

Then why don’t they try to understand me?

How can love be so blind, so cruel, so selfish?

They call me a kid. They say I’m still a kid, that I don’t know anything.

A kid? Seriously?

I am a grown woman, pursuing my Master’s degree, yet I am too immature and incapable to make decisions for myself? I mean Wow… it's just Wowww!

By the way, I've a question.

When will I ever be old enough in their eyes? When?

If they love me so much, Why don’t they ever ask me what I want?

The worst part,

I am not even allowed to make friends.

Not even female friends.

Because, apparently, the world is full of demons.

"The world is not safe."

"Everyone out there is a demon."

"You don’t need friends, focus on your career."

I want to ask—when was the world ever safe and good? When will it ever be?

They say "society will talk."

Who the hell is this society?

And those so-called four people whose opinions matter more than my happiness—Who are these people? Where are they?

“Where are they when I struggle?”

“Are they the ones paying for my education?”

“Are they the ones paying for our meals?”

“Are they the ones supporting our family?”

Then why do they matter more than me, more than my happiness?

I ask myself this question every day—

What if, one day, I break?

What if all this frustration, suffocation, and helplessness pushes me to take a drastic step—who will take responsibility?

My parents?

Or those four people they fear so much?

Will anyone care then?

“Would my pain finally matter then?”

“Would my voice finally be heard?”

Or will it still be about “what people will say?”

They say they love me. But if they really did, wouldn’t they care about my happiness rather than what society thinks?

This isn’t just my story. It’s the story of countless daughters, countless dreamers, countless voices that are forced into silence.

We are told what to do, how to live, how to walk, how to talk, how to smile, who to make friends, who to marry, even what to eat— I mean seriously man?

What the fuck is this going on???

But should we accept this fate? Should we surrender our dreams just because they don’t align with someone else’s expectations?

We are trapped in a golden prison built by our own families, wrapped in chains disguised as love.

But is this love?

Is this love?!

Or is this just a cage in the name of care?

They say parents know what’s best for their children.

But sometimes, in the name of love and protection, they forget something very important—

We are not just their children. We are humans too.

We have dreams, desires, choices.

And we deserve the right to live our lives our way.

Not by society’s rules.

Not by traditions.

But by what makes us truly happy.

I don’t know where my life is headed. I don’t know if I’ll ever get the freedom to live my life the way I want to.

Maybe I will follow the path they have set for me. Maybe I won’t. But one thing I do know—

I deserve to choose.

I deserve to be heard.

I deserve to live a life that is truly mine.

And if you have ever felt this way—if you have ever been silenced, suffocated, forced, controlled, or ignored into a life you don’t want—then let me tell you one thing:

You are not alone.

We are not alone.

And one day, we will make the world hear us.

One day, we will be free.

And maybe, just maybe, one day, the world will finally learn that a woman’s dreams are just as important as anyone else’s. That our choices matter. That our happiness matters.

Because we deserve more...