Content note: Mentions of suicide, child death and reproductive choices. Comments from the show are paraphrased from memory.

Last night, my husband and I went to see Jimmy Carr at TD Place in Lansdowne, Ottawa. It was our first comedy show since 2020. Mostly because going out is not just a matter of buying tickets. I need someone I genuinely trust to look after my son. Without that, I might physically attend a show, but mentally? I would still be wherever he was.

When I booked the tickets, I thought my brother could look after him. But they recently had a baby, and I was not sure managing two children—especially with one as active as mine—would be manageable. So I reached out to K, whom I know through the CHEO respite programme. I am keeping her name private because I have not asked permission to share it. She is amazing with my son and genuinely one of the sweetest people.

With everything arranged, we reached the venue at 7:28 p.m. for a 7:30 show. Excellent timing, obviously. People were still finding their seats, and Jimmy had not come out yet. We were starving, but the concession queues were a mile long. So we said, “Screw it,” and sat down. We were not missing the beginning after everything it took to get there.

My husband finds Jimmy Carr immensely funny. I went in somewhere between liking and disliking him. From the clips I had seen, I knew him as blunt, crude and very willing to say something uncomfortable. I knew what kind of comedy to expect. What I did not expect was how much I would end up thinking about.

There were the jokes, of course. Funny, crude, sometimes deliberately outrageous. But watching a whole show rather than isolated clips gave me more context for the person holding the microphone. I found myself listening to Jimmy Carr the philosopher, which was not exactly what I had put on the itinerary.

He talked about acceptance in a way that stayed with me: sometimes genuinely accepting something means reaching the point of being a little “meh” about it. Not indifferent to someone’s suffering, but no longer treating their existence or choices as a scandal requiring our personal approval. Sometimes acceptance can simply be: okay, and?

That got me thinking about what comedy can do. A good joke can make an ordinary prejudice sound as ridiculous as it actually is. It can put an uncomfortable subject in the middle of a room and make it possible to talk about it. That is a considerable responsibility, not just permission to say whatever gets a reaction.

I think entertainment more broadly has that capacity. Friends gave us different routes to parenthood: Phoebe’s surrogacy, Rachel becoming a mother while unmarried, and Monica and Chandler adopting. Those stories did not magically end stigma, but they made different kinds of families part of familiar television. People.com Sesame Street brought in Julia, an autistic Muppet, as part of an initiative intended to encourage understanding and acceptance. Sesame Workshop To me, there is something powerful about letting people encounter a different life through a character they already care about.

Not every offensive joke accomplishes that. Being shocking is not automatically being insightful. But that evening, I felt Carr was doing more than trying to shock us.

He touched on suicide, assisted dying and the need for mental health support. He referred to a tragic case involving a mother who killed her child, suggesting that she had not needed to die to find herself in hell—she was already living in it. That thought stayed with me.

There was also the familiar idea of laughter being medicine, accompanied by a very necessary reminder not to stop taking insulin. The distinction mattered. I heard an argument for laughter alongside proper support, not instead of it.

For me, laughing about something heavy can make it feel less impossible to discuss. It does not remove what happened or make the suffering trivial. Sometimes it just takes the sharp edge off long enough to let a conversation begin. When he talked about men getting together and finally opening up about their mental health, that was the part I kept returning to: being able to say something that otherwise stays buried.

Then came one of his more provocative ideas: abortion as the default, with people having to qualify to become parents. That is an extreme proposition, and a real policy would raise questions a punchline cannot settle. But the challenge underneath it resonated strongly with me. Why do we treat readiness for parenthood so casually when the responsibility is this enormous?

Being a parent is not simply having a child and then having opinions about how that child should turn out. There is preparation involved. Learning. Reconsidering what we were taught. Recognising when our own fears are restricting a child rather than protecting them.

His point about letting children get bruised without scarring them through our teachings connected with that. I took it as a distinction between allowing children to experience manageable difficulties and doing lasting harm through the ideas we impose on them.

And then there was the gardener metaphor: parents tending a plant without yet knowing what kind of plant it is. That stayed with me more than almost anything else. How am I supposed to nurture something properly if I have already decided what it must become? I need to observe it, understand it and give it what it needs—not keep forcing it into the shape I had in mind.

Apparently, I had come for comedy and ended up thinking about parenting again. Very on-brand of me.

We had thought the show would finish around 8:30 and that we would collect our son by about 9:30. Instead, it continued past ten, and we picked him up at 10:40.

K had been sending pictures throughout the evening, and those updates did so much to calm my nerves. Knowing he was doing well meant I could actually pay attention. I could sit beside my husband and enjoy the show, rather than spend the whole evening worrying about whether we should leave.

And our son? He said he had a great time. He had eaten, had fun and made a new friend. He even requested more time with that friend whenever we had other boring things to do.

So apparently, our evening out had received his approval. We were welcome to be boring again.

K and her family were wonderful with him, and I am immensely grateful. Their care did not just make it possible for us to go out. It made it possible for us to enjoy being out together. There is a difference.

I came home liking Jimmy Carr more—not because his comedy had suddenly become less crude, but because I had seen more of what he does with it. I respected his willingness to bring difficult subjects into the room and, in the moments that resonated with me, make them discussable rather than merely scandalous.

But alongside all that unexpected philosophy, there was something much simpler: my husband and I got to sit together and laugh. Our son was safe, happy and enjoying himself too.

After so long, that felt really, really good.

View on Goodreads ↗ View The Second Siege on Amazon.ca (affiliate link) ↗ Read my Book One review →

Listening details: The Second Siege by Henry H. Neff · Book two of The Tapestry.
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Spoiler warning: This review discusses plot developments and my reaction to the ending.

I finally finished The Second Siege by Henry H. Neff. After numerous attempts. At 82%, I was so frustrated that I had already written a reflection saying I was done. Not necessarily done listening—I was still going to finish—but done investing so much brain and heart into a story that kept making me question its logic.

And then the last 10% happened. Where had this version of the book been?

My biggest frustration was not that the story was fantastical. Obviously. It was that too many things felt insufficiently explained or unconvincing within the world itself. Take the powerful, wish-granting demon trudging along on foot, following two teenagers. Whatever the intended reason, that scene did not work for me. Why couldn’t he already be sitting at their campsite, roasting rabbits when they woke up? That would have been unsettling. Instead, I was thinking about the logistics of a villain following children around rather than feeling threatened by him.

Then there was the realm where Max’s mother had been living. I struggled to understand how it connected to their world, how entering it worked and what to make of the difference in how time passed. Those details have substantial consequences, but I did not feel the explanations gave them enough weight. Why did she need to spend years there alone? I wanted that isolation to feel necessary to the story, not simply something dramatic I was expected to accept.

The King, his castle and his court left me with a similar feeling. We arrive, encounter something apparently important, and move on before I feel I understand its purpose. There is a difference between being intrigued by what I do not know and wondering why the story took me there at all.

Fantasy does not have to obey our reality. It still needs to convince me of its own. I do not need every mystery explained or a technical manual for the magic. But I need enough consistency to understand why something is difficult, dangerous or necessary. For much of this book, the progression felt forced—as though the story was being pushed towards particular events rather than developing organically.

The ending, however, deserves credit. That final stretch was far more exciting, and Max’s decisions made more sense to me from his point of view. I could follow his reasoning even when the circumstances were difficult. The story finally had the momentum and coherence I had been missing. It felt like the author had found his groove again.

I particularly liked how the villain gets his way through patience and calculation. He is cunning without becoming so impressed with his own cleverness that he gets careless. He waits. He does not get cocky like Voldemort. See? It is reminding me of Harry Potter again, even while I am trying to give it its own credit.

Does a strong ending erase everything that frustrated me at 82%? No. I still struggled through a substantial portion of the book. But it would be unfair to leave my earlier reaction as my final verdict, because the ending genuinely improved the experience.

I finished more interested than I had expected to be. The ending does the book credit. I just wish more of the journey had felt like that last stretch.

The Parenting Playbook: ← Part 1: Does a Well-Behaved Child Mean They’re Okay? · Part 2 — You are here

I took a couple of days to think about how to introduce this parenting approach. I could have invented a tidy scenario. Instead, I have one fresh out of the oven from this morning.

My alarm rang at 7:45. I rolled around in bed, trying to wake up, and wasted some time there, honestly. I am not an early riser or a particularly organised person. But I get up because my son needs the structure. So, grunting, I got out of bed, packed his lunch, prepared his breakfast and clothes, and went to wake him.

My son did not want to get up. I spent thirty minutes hugging, kissing, giving him time and trying again. When none of that worked, I brought Saturday’s playdate into the conversation.

No school, no playdate. One happens only after the other.

Guess what? That did not work either.

We go through some version of this struggle every morning, and it exhausts us both. So I told him that he needed to go to school, that I did not like how our mornings were going, and then I asked what would help.

He wanted me to drop him off after 9:17 instead of taking the school van. I thought about it. That morning, it was something I could manage, so I agreed. He brushed his teeth, peed, got dressed, ate and had a nice conversation with me. Later, I showed him the time: 9:23. He put down his food, dusted off his hands and announced that it was time to go.

By himself.

We were already late, so I am not presenting this as an exemplary school-morning routine. But something had changed. The child I had spent half an hour trying to get out of bed was now telling me it was time to leave.

What worked? What did not? And what would authoritative parenting actually look like here?

Authoritative, Not Authoritarian. The Words Are Annoyingly Similar.

Authoritative parenting combines warmth and responsiveness with clear expectations and limits. The parent listens, explains and provides support while remaining responsible for setting boundaries. According to the American Psychological Association, hearing the child’s perspective does not mean agreeing with everything the child wants. APA guide to parenting styles

Authoritarian parenting places greater emphasis on obedience and control, with less responsiveness. Permissive parenting offers warmth but fewer consistent limits. Authoritative parenting brings structure and responsiveness together. It is neither “because I said so” as the entire explanation nor “whatever you want” as the answer to every disagreement. APA research overview of authoritative parenting

For our morning, I understand that as: school attendance matters, and so does understanding what makes getting there difficult. Listening to my son does not mean making school attendance a daily referendum. It means using what he tells me to work out how to support him.

The challenge is keeping both parts present. I do not want to become so focused on getting him through the door that I stop hearing him. But I also cannot turn every morning into an open-ended negotiation about whether school should exist.

Before Deciding What to Change, I Need to Know What Is Difficult

He wakes reasonably well with kisses and hugs. It is the mention of school that changes things. “School is boring.” “School isn’t nice.” Then the bathroom routine brings more resistance: using the potty, peeing and brushing can each become another fight.

But once he is ready, things often get easier. Eating and waiting for the van are more manageable. When it arrives, he may run ahead, climb into his seat and buckle himself in.

How can getting to school be such a problem when getting into the van apparently is not? Perhaps those are different parts of the process, and I have been bundling them together as one enormous refusal.

His willingness to board the van does not cancel his complaints about school. Equally, his complaints do not establish that the van is the problem. Maybe beginning the morning is difficult. Maybe personal care is difficult. Maybe something at school is difficult. Several things could be true at once.

Sleep needs attention too. At night, he does not want to sleep. On weekday mornings, he does not want to wake up. On weekends, he somehow manages to wake before us. কী মুশকিল। But that pattern alone does not tell me whether he is sufficiently rested. Children aged six to twelve generally need nine to twelve hours of sleep in twenty-four hours, according to the American Academy of Sleep Medicine. I need to consider when he actually falls asleep, not just when bedtime negotiations begin. American Academy of Sleep Medicine consensus recommendation

We already have an Individual Education Plan, and the school is trying different things to make his days more interesting. He no longer has one-to-one support from an educational assistant, although scheduled toilet breaks remain. I want to share the specific morning pattern and ask what staff see after he arrives. What does he enjoy? Where does he struggle? Did anything change around the change in support?

That does not mean the support change caused the problem. It gives us something concrete to examine. The American Academy of Pediatrics recommends working with school staff and seeking clinical support when school avoidance persists. I do not have to solve the entire situation from our bedroom doorway. HealthyChildren.org guidance on school avoidance

My Morning, With a Few Possible Changes

This is where the philosophy becomes more useful to me: not as a description of the ideal parent, but as a way to reconsider an actual morning.

Some of what I did already fits. The affection does not need replacing. Neither does asking what would help. What needs work is the clarity, the follow-through and the part where an unrelated Saturday gets dragged into the argument.

These are possible responses consistent with authoritative parenting, not a prescribed script or a guarantee of cooperation. They are what I could try—not things I am claiming I have already mastered.

One qualification matters here: saving a longer school conversation for later does not mean postponing a response to pain, illness or a disclosure that he feels unsafe. I need to hear what he is actually telling me, not automatically classify every objection as something to discuss after breakfast.

Firmness Is Not the Same as Finding a Better Threat

Saturday’s playdate is the part I keep coming back to. I reached for something important to him because I was frustrated. But what did losing a playdate do to help him get out of bed?

The CDC’s guidance for younger children recommends consequences that are immediate and logically connected to the behaviour. That resource is aimed at toddlers and preschoolers, so it is not a complete guide to my six-year-old. Still, it gives me a useful question: was my consequence connected to the problem, or was it simply something I thought would matter enough to get a reaction? CDC guidance on responding to behaviour

I can revisit that with him: “I brought the playdate into our argument because I was frustrated. We still need to work on getting ready for school, but that threat was not helping us.”

That does not remove the expectation. It means I am willing to reconsider how I tried to enforce it.

The same distinction applies to driving him. Agreeing once does not have to become an indefinite arrangement. Nor does one successful morning establish that I should always drive. I want to understand whether he needed my company, more time, a clearer departure plan or something else. I cannot learn that merely by congratulating myself that we eventually left.

And Where Do I Fit Into This Lovely, Sensible Plan?

Because I am tired AF. I do not enjoy waking up either. I am not naturally disciplined, but I get up and do the routine because he needs structure. A parenting philosophy that requires me to become infinitely patient before breakfast is not going to get very far in this house.

For me, the practical next step is to make fewer decisions during the argument. Decide when we need to leave, which steps come first and what help I can provide. Keep the affectionate waking. Try a simple sequence or time cue. Offer two choices I can genuinely manage, rather than several arrangements I will later regret promising.

I also need to remember that 9:23 was not the only thing that changed. I had agreed to drive. He had more time. We had stopped arguing. He knew the arrangement. The clock may have helped, but I cannot isolate it from everything else and declare the case closed.

And no, I am not expecting him to wake tomorrow, thank me for respecting his autonomy and proceed graciously to the bathroom. He may still complain. I may still get frustrated. What I want is a routine we can keep improving, not another standard against which I can declare myself an inadequate mother.

What I Am Taking From This Approach

I want my son to know that his voice matters, that expectations have reasons and that difficulty can be met with help. I also want him to understand that other people have limits, including me.

Those are aims, not promised outcomes. Authoritative parenting is a useful framework to explore, but the APA’s research overview acknowledges unresolved questions about how it works, differences across cultures and the ways children influence their parents as well as the other way around. A label does not explain an entire family. APA research overview of authoritative parenting

For now, I can see things worth keeping: the hugs, the routine, asking what would help. I can see things worth changing too: the unrelated threat, the improvisation, the expectation that I should somehow absorb everyone’s frustration while also remembering the lunchbox.

School still starts at nine. My son still needs support. I still need a morning I can manage. The point is not to choose which of those matters. It is to make a plan that takes all three seriously.

I would appreciate it if the research could also get me out of bed. But apparently, my participation is still required.

About this series: The Parenting Playbook explores different parenting philosophies rather than declaring one the answer for every family. Authoritative parenting is our first individual approach. I am examining what seems useful, what needs adapting and what may not fit. The important questions are whether a practice is safe, coherent, appropriate for the child and workable for the family. None comes with a guarantee of a quiet morning.

What do I do with that?

I asked his paediatrician for help, and they suggested consulting an applied behaviour analysis (ABA) therapist. But as I considered possible explanations, I kept coming back to the details that made this less straightforward.

We use pictures showing the steps of handwashing. Those work. We use pictures for toothbrushing. Those work when he wants to brush. When he doesn’t, the pictures remain perfectly informative pictures beside a child who does not want a toothbrush in his mouth. We also use pictures for cleaning himself after pooing. He has learnt the sequence, but he firmly resists doing it.

So my question is: if he knows how, why won’t he?

Could knowing the steps and being comfortable doing them be two different things? That does not tell me exactly what is happening with him, but it gives me a better starting point than wondering whether I have explained the instructions enough times.

Both Entering and Leaving Become Wars

Getting him to the toilet is usually a fight. Getting him to sit is another. Sometimes he wants to get up immediately and runs away at the first opportunity. Other times, he stays for hours, provided he has a device to occupy him, of course.

Somehow, both entering and leaving the same bathroom have become separate wars.

I wondered whether he was avoiding pain when pooing. But then he also resists going for a pee. That can happen after waking up, while he is doing something during the day, or right before bed. So I cannot assume that one explanation accounts for everything.

His school has scheduled toilet breaks at 11 a.m. and 1 p.m., but I do not yet know what happens during them. Does he go willingly? Does he refuse? Does he sit without actually doing anything? Honestly, I am afraid to ask. I find myself hoping that masking, or simply going along with the group, makes it easier for his teachers. But that is a hope, not an observation. I do not yet know whether it is easier for him.

“Resistance” Is an Observation, Not an Explanation

The question shifted when I stopped treating “resistance” as a complete explanation.

Resistance describes what I see. It does not explain what he experiences.

Could pooing hurt? Could he remember a painful poo even if the next one would not hurt? Does the sensation itself frighten him? Is wiping the part he dreads? Does being asked to stop an activity make the whole bathroom routine harder? Could several of these things be happening together?

Children can become caught in a withholding cycle: they avoid passing stool because it hurts or feels frightening; holding it can lead to constipation; the next bowel movement becomes more uncomfortable. Being able to hold it does not establish that everything is physically fine. ERIC

Sensory differences can also make toileting difficult. Noise, smells, the feel of toilet paper, the seat or difficulty balancing can all matter. We already have a stool supporting his feet while he sits. That is one practical support in place, but it does not rule out the other difficulties. Children and Family Health Devon

Today, I stopped and wondered whether his request for help holding it means more than I have been hearing. Could he be saying that he notices something happening in his body and wants help preventing what comes next? If so, I need to understand what “next” means to him.

Demand Avoidance Gives Me a Question, Not a Diagnosis

I have also just come across a term for the broader pattern I am trying to understand: demand avoidance. It means resisting requests, expectations or everyday tasks. But it describes what happens, not necessarily why. Giving the struggle a name does not automatically explain it. National Autistic Society

There is also PDA—Pathological Demand Avoidance, sometimes called Persistent Drive for Autonomy. Some clinicians and families use “PDA profile” to describe pervasive demand avoidance associated with anxiety and a need for control. But it is a debated concept, not a standalone diagnosis in the main diagnostic manuals, and there is no standardised diagnostic assessment.

I do not know whether that profile fits my son.

Finding a description that sounds familiar is not the same as establishing that it explains him. National Autistic Society

For now, I need to separate the things I am seeing. Actively preventing poo from coming out is stool withholding. Avoiding entering, sitting on or using the toilet can be described as toileting refusal, and fear may be involved. Resistance across different activities is a broader pattern to investigate.

I do not want to put everything in one box just because it all looks like “no” from where I am standing.

So I have more questions. Does he do something spontaneously but resist when prompted? Does that happen with things he enjoys too? Is it worse around bodily care, transitions, uncertainty or particular sensations? Does less pressure and more say in the process help?

These are things I need to observe, not answers I already have.

And none of this replaces checking for pain or constipation. Withholding can follow a painful bowel movement and become tangled up with fear. A broader label would not make that discomfort any less real or any less important to treat. ERIC

I do not want “he is demand avoidant” to become another version of “he just won’t.” I want the terminology to help me ask better questions—not stop asking them.

I am planning to try a predictable poo opportunity again at 7:30 p.m. each day. I want to coordinate with the school around its 11 a.m. and 1 p.m. toilet breaks and find out whether they are helping. We already have 9 p.m. toothbrushing followed by a pee before bed.

But I need to be clear about what those times mean.

They are anchors, not deadlines for his body.

Seven-thirty will mean a predictable opportunity to try, with a brief, supported visit. It will not mean sitting until he produces a poo. If he feels the urge earlier, he should not have to wait until 7:30. Guidance recommends offering toilet time after meals, so I will also look at how that fits our evening rather than assuming the clock alone will solve this. National Institute of Diabetes and Digestive and Kidney Diseases

What I Need to Change

There are a few other things I need to do.

Keep a simple record and ask school to do the same. When does he actually pee or poo? What is the stool like? Is there pain, straining, soiling or distress? What happened just before the refusal? I need observations that help us recognise a pattern, rather than guesses about what might be happening.

Make telling me about pressure safe. He is already communicating something useful. I want to respond with, “Thank you for telling me. I’ll help you,” rather than immediately turning that information into a struggle.

Right now, what often happens is that he runs around screaming, “Mum, help! I don’t want to poo!” I run after him and try to get him to the potty. Usually, I try to reason with him using words. Sometimes, I physically take him there despite his resistance.

That is not the way I want us to handle this, and it is not sustainable. I need help finding a calmer approach rather than repeating a struggle that is not working.

Then there is the worry underneath all of it: what happens if something happens to me tomorrow? How will he manage? I want to help him build skills—and a support system—that do not depend entirely on me.

Reduce the demands around cleanup. He knows the wiping sequence, but right now I am going to offer help. Independent wiping has become another battle attached to every bowel movement, and it is not the one I want to fight at this moment.

Practise manageable bathroom steps when he is calm. A small amount of comfortable practice may be more useful than introducing a lesson when he is already clenching and upset. NHS guidance describes gradually building tolerance for sitting, praising attempts even when no pee or poo happens, and adapting the approach when a child is anxious about the toilet. Leicestershire Partnership NHS Trust

There Is No One Guaranteed Method

The internet has no shortage of people whose one successful strategy becomes advice for everybody else. But the research does not give me that certainty.

A systematic review of 26 autism toilet-training studies identified limitations including small samples, weaker study designs and inconsistent reporting of outcomes. That does not mean nothing helps. It means I cannot treat one method as a guaranteed answer for my child. Northumbria University Research Portal

A small clinical trial involving 20 autistic children with encopresis, or stool soiling, found promising preliminary results from coordinated medical and behavioural treatment. But that was a specific clinical programme for a problem I have not established my son has. It is not a ready-made plan for us to copy. PubMed

So this is where I am: questions for school, a routine to discuss and try, and work on my own response- he already is suffering from anxiety, he doesn’t need me to add to it.

I want to offer him a predictable place and enough support to try. I want to learn what makes it difficult. And when he tells me he feels the pressure, I want him to be able to trust what I say next.

A note before we begin: This is our family’s experience and general information, not medical or dietary advice. A highly restricted diet deserves individual guidance from a doctor and registered dietitian.

My son eats grilled cheese. Sounds straightforward until I explain that it has to be made a very specific way, with a very specific brown bread. Butter chicken? Yes, he eats that too. But again, there is a formula. We are not casually improvising dinner here.

The rest of the list includes naan, butter, certain chips—IKEA, Lay’s, Doritos, Cheetos—Bear Paws, Fruit Roll-Ups and some jelly. Multivitamin pills are also part of the picture. This is not a menu I put together because I thought, you know what would be fun? Extremely limited options. These are the foods I can actually get him to eat.

And then there is school. His school is nut-free, which reduces my choices even further. Feeding him is already a matter of working within a small selection. Packing something he can eat at school makes that selection smaller again.

This is what I mean when I talk about safe foods.

It Is Not Always “I Really Like This Food”

In this context, a safe food is something a person finds reliably manageable to eat. Familiar taste, texture, smell or preparation can make it feel predictable rather than overwhelming. Johns Hopkins All Children’s describes this preference for consistency in autistic children: the familiarity of a food can matter as much as the food itself. Johns Hopkins Medicine

You may also hear people call repetitive eating food hyperfixation. An Inflow article describes becoming intensely focused on a particular food, wanting it repeatedly and sometimes eventually losing interest in it. That can overlap with relying on safe foods, but I would not use the terms as though they mean exactly the same thing. Inflow

“I want this all the time” is not necessarily the same as “this is one of the few things I can manage eating.” Research often uses the term food selectivity for a restricted range of accepted foods and food refusal. A person does not have to be enthusiastically obsessed with a sandwich for that sandwich to be one of their reliable options. Journal of Pediatrics study via PubMed Central

That distinction matters to me. It changes the question from “Why won’t you just eat something else?” to “What makes this one possible?”

Same Ingredients Does Not Mean the Same Experience

Eating involves much more than deciding whether something tastes nice. For some autistic people, texture, temperature, smell, appearance and presentation can affect whether a food is tolerable. Some prefer mild flavours; others enjoy strong ones. There is no single autistic menu that everyone follows. National Autistic Society

And this is not just parents imagining things. A study comparing 53 autistic children with 58 non-autistic children found more atypical sensory processing in the autistic group. Among the autistic children, greater oral sensory sensitivity was associated with refusing more foods and eating fewer vegetables. That does not explain every child, but it supports taking sensory differences seriously. Sensory Sensitivity and Food Selectivity study

Predictability also helps explain why some packaged foods become reliable favourites. A familiar product is generally more consistent than fresh produce, where one piece can be firm and sweet and the next soft or sour. That variation may seem insignificant to someone else, but it can matter to a sensory-sensitive eater. Johns Hopkins Medicine

So when I say specific brown bread, that is not an unnecessary detail. It is part of the description of the food he accepts. Likewise, “he eats butter chicken” does not mean every restaurant’s butter chicken or every slightly modified version of mine has automatically made the list.

I cannot tell you exactly which detail matters most to him every time. But I can tell you that “basically the same thing” is not a particularly useful cooking instruction in our house.

Then Try Packing a School Lunch

The nut-free rule adds another restriction to an already restricted menu. I am not arguing against the rule. I am explaining why something that might be a straightforward substitution for another family is not necessarily straightforward for us.

The foods my son accepts and the foods I can send to school are not automatically the same list. Suggesting a replacement is easy. Getting that replacement onto his accepted-food list is the difficult part.

That is the bit I want people to understand when they see a repetitive lunch. The repetition does not tell you how little thought went into it. Sometimes it tells you how carefully the parent has worked out what the child will actually eat.

Understanding His Needs Does Not Mean Ignoring Nutrition

When I say we are basically getting by on a handful of foods and multivitamins, I am describing our struggle—not recommending a meal plan.

Multivitamins can help fill some vitamin and mineral gaps, but they do not turn a restricted diet into a complete one. They cannot replace the full nutritional contribution of food, including fibre and other components that supplements may not provide. NIH Office of Dietary Supplements

A very limited diet deserves an individual review with a doctor and a registered dietitian, ideally someone familiar with autistic eating differences. Importantly, normal growth does not rule out nutrient deficiencies. The Royal Children’s Hospital specifically highlights this in its guidance on highly restricted diets. That is a reason to get useful support, not a reason to blame parents or panic over every meal. Royal Children’s Hospital

There is also avoidant/restrictive food intake disorder, or ARFID. This is more than having favourite foods: restriction leads to significant nutritional, growth or everyday-functioning difficulties. It can involve sensory sensitivity, fear of choking or vomiting, or little interest in eating, rather than concerns about body shape or weight. Not every autistic selective eater has ARFID, and I am not diagnosing my son from his menu. But it is worth knowing that serious eating difficulties deserve assessment, not dismissal. UCSF Eating Disorders Program

Help Should Not Mean Taking Away What Works

I do not want “respect his safe foods” to become “never help him explore anything else.” But I also do not want exploration to mean making every meal a test he can fail.

Kent Community Health’s guidance advises against withholding accepted foods to make a child hungry enough to eat something else. It also warns against secretly mixing new ingredients into safe foods: the child may notice the change and stop trusting that food altogether. Pressure and threats can increase anxiety around eating. Kent Community Health NHS Foundation Trust

That makes sense to me. When the list is already short, losing something from it is not a small inconvenience.

Gentle exploration can start with looking at, touching or smelling something unfamiliar, without requiring a bite. Changes can be introduced gradually while keeping familiar food available. And discomfort needs attention too: constipation, reflux, dental pain or swallowing difficulties should not simply be written off as “the autism.” National Autistic Society

I want more options for my son. Of course I do. I would love for feeding him to involve less precision and a slightly larger menu. But I also want him to feel understood while we work towards that.

Right now, the naan, the particular snacks, the butter chicken made to its very specific formula and the grilled cheese with that particular brown bread are what we have to work with. They are not the whole answer to nutrition, but they are an important starting point.

I am not trying to win an argument with his plate. I am trying to feed my child, understand what makes eating difficult, and help him have more choices without taking away the few that already work.

And yes, the bread still needs to be that bread.

The Parenting Playbook: Part 1 — You are here · Part 2: School Starts at Nine. Our Negotiations Start at Eight. →

Growing up, our parents constantly told us how good we had it. They had apparently climbed mountains and swum across rivers to get to school. We, on the other hand, had food ready on the table and rides to school arranged. We had a roof over our heads. We should be grateful. And gratitude, among other things, meant finishing everything on our plates. Being full was not sufficient. Somewhere, someone had struggled to provide that food, and our stomachs were expected to respect the sacrifice. Beating was part of the package too. Discipline was something our parents owed us. If they didn’t discipline us, they were doing us a disservice. Raising us properly meant making sure we knew how to behave.

Now, however, we tell our children to listen to their bodies. If you’re full, you don’t have to finish everything. We can serve less next time. You don’t need to eat past the point of comfort to prove that you appreciate lunch. We try to be kinder. We explain things. We acknowledge feelings. And then we still find ourselves in the middle of a grocery aisle with a crying child screaming, “I hate you.” At which point, we begin to think. Were our parents onto something? Because we were well behaved. Sure, some of us are fucked in the head with a collection of mental traumas, but the behaviour? Excellent.

The difficulty is that “well behaved” tells you what other people could see. It doesn’t necessarily tell you what it felt like to be that child. A quiet child might understand a rule. They might also be frightened of what happens if they question it. From the outside, those can look remarkably similar. That doesn’t mean every childhood difficulty comes from parenting, or that a child shouting in a supermarket proves a parent is doing something right. It means that volume is a very limited way to measure whether our parenting is working.

The American Academy of Pediatrics recommends teaching and guiding children without hitting, threatening or shaming them. Being able to stop a behaviour in the moment is not the same as helping a child learn how to manage it. AAP guidance on discipline

Still, becoming a parent has made me less certain that I can neatly divide the generations into people who got it wrong and people who now know better.

My mother beat me. She also sent me to school. Her parents did not let her finish school and become a doctor; instead, they got her married after Grade 9. Her dad wasn’t even sent to primary school; he was sent to a factory at ten. There is progress in this history. There is harm too. I don’t have to erase either to acknowledge the other.

I can see ways my mother gave me opportunities she didn’t have, while still wishing she had done some things differently. And now I am raising a child, making decisions with the information I have, and discovering how often love comes with uncertainty. You can read, research, ask questions, think carefully, and still make a mistake. Sometimes you only understand the mistake later.

I hope our children will do better than us too. At 36, I speak four languages; my son already speaks seven at the age of six and does maths like a crazy robot. I can’t keep up. My friends say he is definitely my son.

But he isn’t me. He is me 2.0 and much, much more. The hope is that the update comes with useful improvements.

My younger brother is now a first-time parent. He has access to more research and information than I did. He also has access to a buttload of advice, much of it delivered with the confidence of someone who has personally solved childhood. Going through all of it can become a job of its own. So I’m writing a series of ten articles: an introduction, six closer looks at different approaches, and three everyday scenarios where we compare how parents might respond—and what those responses might mean for both parent and child.

What Do We Mean by Parenting?

Before we start choosing a parenting style, what exactly are we talking about when we say parenting?

Parenting is the ongoing work of caring for a child, keeping them safe, helping them learn, and gradually supporting them to do more for themselves. There are the visible jobs: food, clothes, school, appointments, sleep. Then there are the less visible ones. Noticing when something is wrong. Listening. Setting a limit. Showing a child how to handle a mistake. Letting them attempt something you could do faster yourself.

For young children, nurturing care includes health, nutrition, safety, responsive caregiving, and opportunities to learn. Responsive caregiving means noticing a child’s signals and responding appropriately. It puts the relationship alongside the practical care, rather than treating it as an optional extra. WHO’s nurturing care framework

In ordinary language: the child needs someone to notice them, teach them, and be available while they learn. That includes boundaries. Children need opportunities to make choices, but they also need adults to make decisions they are not yet equipped to make. The interesting part is how we do that.

Imagine a child refusing to turn off a tablet.

One parent threatens a punishment. Another says “five more minutes” until five minutes has become a flexible philosophical concept. Another takes over every setting and decision. Another says, “I know you want to keep watching. Tablet time is finished.”

Same tablet. Same disagreement. Different ideas about what the child needs and what the parent’s job is.

The Four Classic Parenting Styles

Researchers commonly describe parenting styles using two dimensions: warmth and demandingness. Warmth concerns affection and responsiveness. Demandingness concerns expectations and guidance. Together, they help describe the emotional climate in which rules happen. APA overview of parenting styles

Demandingness is a slightly unfortunate word. Here, it doesn’t mean demanding seven languages and a mathematics qualification before breakfast. It means having expectations, providing structure, and following through.

The classic framework describes four styles:

• Authoritative parenting combines warmth with clear expectations.
• Authoritarian parenting emphasises obedience and control, with less room for the child’s perspective.
• Permissive parenting offers warmth but relatively little consistent structure.
• Uninvolved parenting involves limited responsiveness and guidance.

The first two names are so similar that I would like to speak to whoever approved them. To make the differences more concrete, imagine an eight-year-old spilling juice. The following are illustrations, not a test that can diagnose a family from one sentence.

These illustrations show recurring patterns; one response alone does not define a parenting style.

Authoritative parenting provides help, an expectation to participate, and something useful to try next time. Authoritarian parenting makes the mistake an opportunity for punishment. Permissive parenting may take the stress out of the moment, but it can also mean repeatedly cleaning everything without expecting the capable child to help. Uninvolved parenting might mean the child repeatedly receives neither help nor guidance. Is this the same as encouraging independence?

The distinction is the recurring relationship, not whether an exhausted parent once cleaned up a drink without delivering a lesson.

Helicopter Parenting and Gentle Parenting

Two newer approaches appear frequently in parenting conversations nowadays: helicopter parenting and gentle parenting. They overlap with the classic styles rather than forming two additional boxes in the same framework.

Helicopter parenting describes involvement that becomes excessive: taking over tasks or decisions a child could reasonably practise with support. In our juice example, it might mean routinely refusing to let a capable child pour or carry a drink because something could spill. Attention and advocacy can be valuable. The question is whether our help allows the child to participate more—or leaves them with fewer opportunities to try.

Research has linked overparenting with anxiety and other difficulties, although those associations do not prove that overparenting alone caused them. Much of this evidence concerns older adolescents and young adults. Meta-analysis of overparenting and mental health

Gentle parenting generally emphasises empathy and respectful responses, although people use the term differently. Research exploring how parents understand it has found themes including emotional attention, parental self-regulation, and boundaries. It is not a single, uniformly defined programme with established long-term outcomes. Study exploring gentle parenting

At the juice spill, a gentle response might be: “That surprised you. Spills happen. We still need to clean it up; I’ll help.” Does it sound very much like the authoritative response? Yes. Exactly. These approaches can overlap.

These illustrations show recurring patterns; one response alone does not define a parenting style.

Acknowledging a feeling doesn’t require cancelling the expectation. “You are angry” and “I won’t let you hit me” can belong in the same conversation. Back in the grocery aisle, we can acknowledge that a child desperately wants something while still declining to buy it. They may remain upset. We may remain embarrassed. A reasonable boundary does not necessarily produce an immediately delighted child. And we will not deliver every response with the calm voice we practised in our heads.

The Parent Is a Person Too

We bring our own childhoods into these moments. We bring beliefs about respect, fears about safety, money worries, tiredness, and whatever support we do or don’t have. Sometimes we hear ourselves repeating a sentence we swore we would never say. That is a reason to pay attention to our patterns, rather than deciding that one terrible afternoon tells the whole story.

The child matters too. A toddler and a teenager need different expectations. Temperament, disability, communication needs, culture, and circumstances all deserve consideration. Support that allows one child to participate might be unnecessary interference for another. Preventing harm, providing an accommodation, or helping with an inaccessible task should not automatically be dismissed as hovering. Likewise, a quiet child isn’t automatically thriving, and a loud child isn’t automatically badly raised.

Across this series, I want to look at the useful things we are trying to offer: warmth, predictability, attention, emotional understanding, and opportunities to become more independent.

I also want to leave room for the parent as a person. Someone with limits. Someone who can apologise, reconsider a rule, ask for help, or try again tomorrow. I don’t expect to discover a method that guarantees our children will have nothing to discuss with a therapist. I would, however, like us to think beyond whether they behaved well enough to keep the adults comfortable.

So before we ask which parenting style we use, perhaps we can start with a more familiar moment:

What do I usually do when my child’s needs collide with my own?

দ্য প্যারেন্টিং প্লেবুক — পর্ব ১

বড় হয়ে ওঠার সময় আমাদের বাবা-মা বারবার বলতেন যে আমরা কতটা সুযোগ-সুবিধার মধ্যে বড় হচ্ছি। তারা নাকি পাহাড় পাড়ি দিয়ে এবং নদী সাঁতরে স্কুলে যেতেন। আর আমাদের জন্য টেবিলেই খাবার তৈরি, স্কুলে যাওয়ার জন্য রিকশা ready। আমাদের মাথার ওপর ছাদ ছিল। আমাদের আরও কৃতজ্ঞ বোধ করা দরকার। আর কৃতজ্ঞতার অর্থ ছিল, অন্যান্য জিনিসের পাশাপাশি প্লেটের সব খাবার শেষ করা। শুধু পেট ভরে যাওয়াটাই যথেষ্ট ছিল না। কেউ না কেউ সেই খাবার জোগাড় করতে কষ্ট করেছে, এবং আমাদের পেট থেকে আশা করা হতো সেই ত্যাগের প্রতি সম্মান জানানোর। শারীরিক শাস্তি বা মারধরও এর একটা অংশ ছিল। শাসন করাটা ছিল আমাদের বাবা-মায়ের একরকম দায়িত্ব। তারা যদি আমাদের শাসন না করতেন, তবে তারা আমাদের প্রতি অবিচার করতেন। আমাদের সঠিকভাবে বড় করার অর্থ ছিল আমরা যেন ভালোমতো আচরণ করতে জানি, তা নিশ্চিত করা।

কিন্তু এখন আমরা আমাদের বাচ্চাদের তাদের শরীরের কথা শুনতে বলি। যদি তোমার পেট ভরে যায়, তবে সব খাবার শেষ করতেই হবে—এমন কোনো কথা নেই। আমরা পরের বার কম করে খাবার দিতে পারি। দুপুরের খাবার যে তুমি খুব পছন্দ করেছ তা প্রমাণ করার জন্য স্বাচ্ছন্দ্যের সীমানা পেরিয়ে অতিরিক্ত খাওয়ার কোনো প্রয়োজন নেই। আমরা আরও দয়াশীল হওয়ার চেষ্টা করি। আমরা জিনিসগুলো বুঝিয়ে বলি। তাদের অনুভূতিগুলোকে স্বীকার করি।

আর তারপরও দেখা যায়, আমরা সুপারমার্কেটের মাঝখানে এমন এক পরিস্থিতির মুখে পড়েছি যেখানে একটি কান্নাকাটিকারী বাচ্চা চিৎকার করে বলছে, “I hate you!”

ঠিক সেই মুহূর্তে মনে হয়, আব্বা-আম্মারাই হয়তো ঠিক ছিলেন। কারণ আমরা তো বেশ ভালো আচরণ করতাম। যদিও আমাদের অনেকেরই মাথার ভেতরে কিছু না কিছু trauma বা মানসিক আঘাতের ভাণ্ডার রয়েছে, কিন্তু আমাদের আচরণ?

একদম চমৎকার!

সমস্যা হলো, “ভালো আচরণ” কেবল মানুষ বাইরে থেকে যা দেখতে পায় সেটুকুই বলে। ভালো আচরণ দিয়ে বোঝার কোনো উপায় নেই যে একটি বাচ্চা সত্যি অর্থে কেমন অনুভব করছে। একটি শান্ত বাচ্চা হয়তো কোনো নিয়ম বুঝতে পেরেছে। অথবা সে হয়তো কথা না শুনলে কী হবে, সেই ভয়ে নিয়ম মেনে চলছে। বাইরে থেকে দেখলে এই দুটোর মধ্যে পার্থক্য বোঝা কঠিন।

তার মানে এই নয় যে শৈশবের প্রতিটি সমস্যাই প্যারেন্টিং থেকে আসে, বা সুপারমার্কেটে চিৎকার করা একটি বাচ্চা প্রমাণ করে যে তার অভিভাবক ঠিক কাজ করছেন। এর মানে হলো, গলার জোর দিয়ে মাপা যায় না যে সত্যি অর্থে প্যারেন্টিং সফল হচ্ছে কি না।

আমেরিকান একাডেমি অফ পেডিয়াট্রিক্স (AAP) বলে যে বাচ্চাদের গায়ে হাত না তুলে, হুমকি না দিয়ে বা লজ্জা না দিয়ে তাদের শিক্ষা দেওয়া এবং পথ দেখানো উচিত। কোনো আচরণকে তাৎক্ষণিকভাবে থামিয়ে দিতে পারা মানেই কি তা সামলানোর উপায় বাচ্চাটিকে শিখিয়ে দেওয়া? AAP-এর discipline guidance

প্যারেন্ট হওয়ার পর থেকে আমার মনে এই সংশয় তৈরি হয়েছে যে আমরা কি সত্যিই প্রজন্মগুলোকে এভাবে পরিষ্কারভাবে ভাগ করতে পারি—কারা ভুল করেছিল আর কারা এখন ভালো বোঝে?

আমার মা আমাকে মেরেছেন। আবার তিনি আমাকে স্কুলেও পাঠিয়েছেন। তার বাবা-মা তাকে পড়াশোনা শেষ করে ডাক্তার হতে দেননি; তার বদলে নবম শ্রেণির পরেই তাকে বিয়ে দিয়ে দিয়েছেন। এমনকি তার বাবাকে primary school-এও পাঠানো হয়নি; দশ বছর বয়সী একটি বাচ্চাকে কারখানায় পাঠিয়ে দেওয়া হয়েছিল। এই ইতিহাসের মধ্যে যেমন অগ্রগতি আছে, তেমনই ক্ষতি বা কষ্টের চিহ্নও রয়েছে।

দুটোর একটিকেও অস্বীকার না করে দুটোকেই কি মেনে নেওয়া সম্ভব?

আমি দেখতে পাই কীভাবে আমার মা আমাকে এমন কিছু সুযোগ করে দিয়েছিলেন যা তার নিজের ছিল না। আবার একই সঙ্গে আমি এটাও wish করি যে তিনি যদি কিছু জিনিস অন্যভাবে করতেন! আর এখন আমি নিজে একটি বাচ্চা বড় করছি, আমার কাছে থাকা তথ্য দিয়ে সিদ্ধান্ত নিচ্ছি, এবং বুঝতে পারছি যে ভালোবাসার সঙ্গে কতটা অনিশ্চয়তা জড়িয়ে থাকে। আপনি পড়তে পারেন, গবেষণা করতে পারেন, প্রশ্ন করতে পারেন, সাবধানে চিন্তা করতে পারেন—তবুও ভুল হতে পারে। অনেক সময় ভুলটা আমরা বুঝতে পারি অনেক পরে।

আমি আশা করি আমাদের বাচ্চারাও আমাদের চেয়ে ভালো কিছু করবে। ৩৬ বছর বয়সে আমি চারটি ভাষা বলতে পারি; অথচ আমার ছয় বছরের ছেলেটি ইতিমধ্যেই সাতটি ভাষা বলতে পারে এবং একটি পাগল robot-এর মতো অংক কষে। আমি আর পেরে উঠছি না। আমার বন্ধুরা বলে সে নিশ্চিতভাবেই আমার ছেলে।

কিন্তু সে তো আর আমি নই। সে হলো আমারই version 2.0 এবং তার চেয়েও অনেক বেশি কিছু। আশা করি এই update-টির সঙ্গে কিছু দরকারি উন্নতিও যুক্ত আছে।

আমার ছোট ভাই এখন প্রথমবার বাবা হয়েছে। আমার চেয়েও অনেক বেশি গবেষণা ও তথ্যের নাগাল তার আছে। পাশাপাশি তার কাছে উপচে পড়ছে অজস্র উপদেশ—যার বেশির ভাগই এমন আত্মবিশ্বাসের সঙ্গে দেওয়া হয়, যেন তারা একাই শৈশবের সব রহস্য সমাধান করে ফেলেছেন। এগুলোর মধ্য দিয়ে যাওয়া নিজেই একটা full-time job হয়ে উঠতে পারে।

তাই আমি দশটি নিবন্ধের একটি series লিখছি: একটি ভূমিকা, বিভিন্ন পদ্ধতির ওপর ছয়টি গভীর আলোচনা, এবং এমন তিনটি দৈনন্দিন পরিস্থিতি যেখানে আমরা তুলনা করে দেখব বাবা-মায়েরা কীভাবে সাড়া দিতে পারেন—এবং সেই প্রতিক্রিয়াগুলো বাবা-মা ও বাচ্চা উভয়ের জন্য কী অর্থ বহন করতে পারে।

প্যারেন্টিং বলতে আমরা কী বুঝি?

কোনো একটা parenting style বেছে নেওয়ার আগে, আমরা যখন “প্যারেন্টিং” বলি তখন আসলে ঠিক কী নিয়ে কথা বলছি?

প্যারেন্টিং হলো একটি বাচ্চার যত্ন নেওয়া, তাকে নিরাপদে রাখা, তাকে শিখতে সাহায্য করা এবং ধীরে ধীরে তাকে নিজের কাজ নিজে করতে সাহায্য করার একটি চলমান প্রক্রিয়া। এখানে কিছু দৃশ্যমান কাজ আছে: খাবার, জামাকাপড়, স্কুল, appointment, ঘুম। আবার কিছু কম দৃশ্যমান কাজও আছে। কোথাও কোনো সমস্যা হলে তা খেয়াল করা। শোনা। সীমা নির্ধারণ করা। কোনো ভুল হলে কীভাবে তা সামলাতে হয় তা বাচ্চাটিকে দেখানো। যে কাজটি আপনি নিজে অনেক দ্রুত করে ফেলতে পারেন, সেটি তাকে চেষ্টা করার সুযোগ দেওয়া।

ছোট বাচ্চাদের জন্য লালন-পালনের মধ্যে রয়েছে স্বাস্থ্য, পুষ্টি, নিরাপত্তা, responsive caregiving এবং শেখার সুযোগ। Responsive caregiving মানে বাচ্চার সংকেতগুলো খেয়াল করা এবং সে অনুযায়ী সাড়া দেওয়া। সহজ কথায়: বাচ্চাটির এমন কাউকে প্রয়োজন যে তাকে খেয়াল করবে, শেখাবে এবং শেখার সময় তার পাশে থাকবে। WHO-এর nurturing care framework

এর মধ্যে boundary নির্ধারণও অন্তর্ভুক্ত। বাচ্চাদের পছন্দ বা সিদ্ধান্ত নেওয়ার সুযোগ থাকা দরকার, তবে তাদের এমন সিদ্ধান্ত নেওয়ার জন্য বয়স্কদেরও প্রয়োজন, যা নেওয়ার মতো ক্ষমতা তাদের এখনও হয়নি। কৌতূহলজনক বিষয় হলো আমরা কীভাবে সেটি করি।

ধরে নিন একটি বাচ্চা tablet বন্ধ করতে রাজি হচ্ছে না।

একজন অভিভাবক শাস্তির হুমকি দিচ্ছেন। অন্যজন বলছেন, “আর পাঁচ মিনিট,” যতক্ষণ না সেই পাঁচ মিনিট একটা গোলমেলে philosophical concept হয়ে দাঁড়াচ্ছে। অন্যজন device-এর সব setting এবং সিদ্ধান্ত নিজের নিয়ন্ত্রণে নিচ্ছেন। আরেকজন বলছেন, “আমি জানি তুমি আরও দেখতে চাও। তবে tablet-এর সময় শেষ।”

একই tablet। একই অসম্মতি। কিন্তু বাচ্চাটির কী প্রয়োজন এবং অভিভাবকের কাজ কী—তা নিয়ে ভিন্ন ভিন্ন ধারণা।

চারটি প্রচলিত প্যারেন্টিং স্টাইল

গবেষকরা সাধারণত দুটি বিষয়ের ওপর ভিত্তি করে parenting style ব্যাখ্যা করেন: উষ্ণতা (warmth) এবং চাহিদা বা শাসন (demandingness)। উষ্ণতা বলতে বোঝায় ভালোবাসা আর কতটুকু সহজে বাচ্চার কাছে সাড়া দিচ্ছি। আর চাহিদা বলতে বোঝায় আমরা তার কাছে কেমন নিয়ম বা প্রত্যাশা রাখছি। দুটি মিলে এমন একটা environment তৈরি করে যার মধ্যে নিয়মগুলো চলে। APA-এর parenting styles overview

“চাহিদা” শব্দটা শুনলে মনে হতে পারে খুব কড়া কিছু বুঝি। এখানে এর অর্থ সকালের নাশতার আগেই সাতটি ভাষা বা কঠিন কোনো পড়াশোনার চাপ দেওয়া নয়। এর অর্থ হলো বাচ্চার কাছে সঠিক প্রত্যাশা রাখা, একটা নির্দিষ্ট গণ্ডি বা কাঠামো তৈরি করে দেওয়া এবং সেটা ধরে রাখা।

প্রথাগত কাঠামোতে মূলত চার ধরনের style-এর কথা বলা হয়:

1. অথরিটেটিভ (Authoritative): ভালোবাসার সঙ্গে সঙ্গে পরিষ্কার নিয়ম ও প্রত্যাশার মেলবন্ধন।
2. অথরিটেরিয়ান (Authoritarian): বাচ্চার মতামতকে পাত্তা না দিয়ে শুধু কড়া শাসন আর হুকুমের ওপর জোর দেওয়া।
3. পারমিসিভ (Permissive): অনেক ভালোবাসা দেয়, কিন্তু নিয়মকানুন বা সামলে চলার ব্যাপারে বেশ ঢিলেঢালা।
4. আনইনভলভড (Uninvolved): বাচ্চার খোঁজখবর খুব একটা নেয় না, নিজের মতো চলতে দেয়।

প্রথম দুটোর নাম এত কাছাকাছি যে যারা এগুলো ঠিক করেছেন, তাদের সঙ্গে একটু কথা বলতে ইচ্ছে করে! এই তফাতগুলো পরিষ্কার করতে আট বছরের একটা বাচ্চার জুস ফেলে দেওয়ার একটা ছোট্ট উদাহরণ দেখা যাক।

এই ছবিগুলো বারবার দেখা যায় এমন প্যাটার্ন বোঝায়; একবারের একটি প্রতিক্রিয়া দিয়েই কোনো parenting style নির্ধারণ করা যায় না।

• অথরিটেটিভ: বাচ্চাটিকে পরিষ্কার করতে সাহায্য করে, সে যেন নিজে একটু হাত লাগায় সেই উৎসাহ দেয় এবং পরের বার কীভাবে সাবধানে গ্লাস ধরতে হবে তা বুঝিয়ে বলে।
• অথরিটেরিয়ান: এই ভুলটাকে একটা শাস্তি পাওয়ার সুযোগ বানিয়ে ফেলে!
• পারমিসিভ: হয়তো জুস পড়ার সঙ্গে সঙ্গে তখনকার মতো ঝামেলা এড়াতে নিজেই সব হুটহাট পরিষ্কার করে দেয়, কিন্তু সক্ষম বাচ্চাটিকে নিজের কাজটা নিজে করার কোনো সুযোগই দেয় না।
• আনইনভলভড: বাচ্চাটার দিকে ফিরেও তাকায় না, সাহায্য তো দূরের কথা। এটাকে কি আর যাই হোক স্বাধীনতা দেওয়া বলে? না!

মূল কথা হলো আপনার সঙ্গে বাচ্চার প্রতিদিনের সম্পর্কটা কেমন, সেটাই আসল; মাঝেমধ্যে কোনো এক ক্লান্ত মা বা বাবা হয়তো কোনো শিক্ষা দেওয়ার সুযোগ না পেয়ে নিজেই জুস মুছে ফেললেন—তা দিয়ে পুরো প্যারেন্টিং মাপা যায় না।

হেলিকপ্টার প্যারেন্টিং এবং জেন্টল প্যারেন্টিং

আজকাল প্যারেন্টিং নিয়ে কথা উঠলেই দুটো নতুন শব্দ খুব শোনা যায়: helicopter parenting আর gentle parenting। এগুলোর আলাদা কোনো বাক্স নেই, বরং আগের classic style-গুলোর সঙ্গেই এগুলো ঘুরেফিরে আসে।

Helicopter parenting মানে হলো একটু বেশিই বেশি করা বা অতিরিক্ত জড়িয়ে পড়া: অর্থাৎ যে কাজগুলো একটা বাচ্চা নিজে একটু সাহায্য নিয়ে করতে পারত, অভিভাবক নিজেই সেটা করে দেন বা সব দায়িত্ব নিজের কাঁধে তুলে নেন। জুস পড়ার উদাহরণটার কথাই ধরুন—বাচ্চাটা একটু বড় হয়েছে, সে নিজেই গ্লাসটা ধরতে পারে, কিন্তু আপনি ভয়ে তাকে সেটা ধরতেই দিলেন না, পাছে পড়ে যায়!

একটু খেয়াল রাখা বা বাচ্চার পক্ষ হয়ে লড়াই করা ভালো জিনিস। কিন্তু আমাদের সাহায্য কি বাচ্চাটিকে আরও বেশি অংশ নিতে দিচ্ছে, নাকি তার নিজের চেষ্টা আটকে দিচ্ছে? গবেষণায় overparenting-এর সঙ্গে anxiety এবং অন্য কিছু সমস্যার সম্পর্ক পাওয়া গেছে, যদিও এই সম্পর্ক প্রমাণ করে না যে overparenting একাই সেগুলোর কারণ। এই গবেষণার বড় অংশই older adolescent ও young adult-দের নিয়ে। Overparenting এবং mental health নিয়ে meta-analysis

Gentle parenting মূলত সহানুভূতি আর সম্মান দিয়ে বাচ্চার কথায় সাড়া দেওয়ার ওপর জোর দেয়, যদিও সবাই শব্দটি একইভাবে ব্যবহার করেন না। জুস পড়ে যাওয়ার সময় একজন gentle parent হয়তো এভাবে বলবেন: “আরে, তুমি তো বেশ চমকে গেছ! জুস পড়ে গেছে তো কী হয়েছে, চলো আমরা দুজনে মিলে এটা পরিষ্কার করে ফেলি।” Gentle parenting নিয়ে গবেষণা

এটা কি ঠিক আগের সেই authoritative style-এর মতোই শোনাল?

হ্যাঁ, একদম!

এই style-গুলো অনেক সময় মিলে যায়।

এই ছবিগুলো বারবার দেখা যায় এমন প্যাটার্ন বোঝায়; একবারের একটি প্রতিক্রিয়া দিয়েই কোনো parenting style নির্ধারণ করা যায় না।

বাচ্চা কষ্ট পেয়েছে বা তার একটা অনুভূতি হয়েছে মানে এই নয় যে আপনি ঘরের সব নিয়ম বা discipline বিসর্জন দেবেন। “তুমি এখন বেশ রেগে আছ, কিন্তু আমি তোমাকে কাউকে মারতে দেব না”—এই দুটো কথাই একই সঙ্গে বলা সম্ভব।

সুপারমার্কেটে দাঁড়িয়ে আপনি বুঝতে পারছেন বাচ্চা একটা জিনিস কেনার জন্য ভীষণ বায়না করছে, এবং আপনি সেটা কিনবেন না। সে হয়তো মন খারাপ করে কাঁদবে, আপনারও চারপাশে লোকজন থাকায় বেশ বিব্রত লাগবে। কিন্তু একটা সুন্দর গণ্ডি বা নিয়ম ধরে রাখার মানে এই নয় যে বাচ্চা সঙ্গে সঙ্গে খিলখিল করে হেসে উঠবে! আর আমরা চাইলেও সবসময় রূপকথার মতো ঠান্ডা মাথায় বাচ্চাদের সামলাতে পারব না।

বাবা-মাও মানুষ

আমরা যখন বাচ্চাদের সামলাই, তখন অজান্তেই আমাদের নিজেদের ছোটবেলাটা আমাদের পিছু নেয়। আমরা সম্মান বলতে কী বুঝেছি, নিরাপত্তার ভয়, টাকার tension, ক্লান্তি এবং যেটুকু support আমাদের আছে বা নেই—সবকিছু এর সঙ্গে জড়িয়ে থাকে। অনেক সময় নিজের মুখ থেকেই এমন কিছু কথা বের হয়ে আসে যা আমরা জীবনেও মুখে আনব না বলে শপথ করেছিলাম!

তো এসব দেখে ঘাবড়ে যাওয়ার কিছু নেই। বরং এটা নিজের ভেতরের pattern-গুলো একটু খেয়াল করার সুযোগ দেয়। একটা খারাপ দিন বা একটা বাজে দুপুর দিয়ে পুরো parenting judge করা যায় না।

আর বাচ্চাটার দিকটাও তো দেখতে হবে। একটা ছোট্ট toddler আর একটা teenager-এর চাহিদা তো এক হতে পারে না। বাচ্চার মেজাজ কেমন, তার disability বা communication need আছে কি না, সে কোন culture ও circumstances-এ বড় হচ্ছে—সবকিছুই মাথায় রাখা দরকার। এক বাচ্চার জন্য যে সাহায্য জরুরি, অন্য বাচ্চার জন্য সেটাই হয়তো গায়ে পড়ে বিরক্ত করার শামিল!

বিপদের হাত থেকে বাঁচানো, দরকারি accommodation দেওয়া বা কোনো inaccessible কাজ করতে সাহায্য করা মানেই helicopter parenting নয়। আবার একটা বাচ্চা একদম চুপচাপ মানেই সে খুব ভালো আছে, আর যে খুব loud সে খুব খারাপভাবে বড় হচ্ছে—এমনটাও কিন্তু নয়।

পুরো series জুড়ে আমি দেখতে চাই, আমরা বাচ্চাদের আসলে কী দিতে চাই: একটু মমতা, predictability, মনোযোগ, তাদের মনের অবস্থাটা বোঝা এবং নিজেদের পায়ে দাঁড়ানোর ছোট্ট একটা সুযোগ।

পাশাপাশি, আমি চাই বাবা-মায়েরা নিজেদেরও একটু মানুষ হিসেবে ছাড় দিন। আমাদেরও তো একটা limit আছে। আমরাও ভুল করে ক্ষমা চাইতে পারি, কোনো নিয়ম দরকার হলে বদলাতে পারি, কারও সাহায্য চাইতে পারি বা আজকের দিনটা খারাপ গেছে তো কী হয়েছে, কাল আবার নতুন করে শুরু করতে পারি।

এমন কোনো জাদুকরী উপায় কি আসলেই আছে যা guarantee দেবে যে আমাদের বাচ্চাদের বড় হয়ে কোনো দিন কোনো therapist-এর কাছে যেতেই হবে না? এমনটা হয়তো হবে না। তবে বড়দের আরাম বা মানসম্মান বাঁচানোর জন্য বাচ্চা সবসময় যথেষ্ট “ভালো আচরণ” করল কি না—শুধু এটুকুই যেন আমাদের একমাত্র মাপকাঠি না হয়।

তাহলে, আমরা আসলে কোন parenting style follow করছি—সেটা নিয়ে মাথা ঘামানোর আগে, আসুন খুব পরিচিত একটা মুহূর্ত দিয়ে ভাবা শুরু করি:

যখন আমার বাচ্চার কোনো চাহিদার সঙ্গে আমার নিজের দরকার বা মেজাজ হুট করে মুখোমুখি এসে দাঁড়ায়, তখন আমি ঠিক কী করি?

After writing about the gymnastics session that went so badly, I wanted to come back and tell you what happened next. Because the difficult part deserved to be talked about, but so does the way people responded.

A note about names: I am not naming individual coaches in this update. The coaches I am talking about know who they are. I am sorry I cannot thank each of you publicly by name, but I did not ask permission to identify you, so I have left your names out. The gratitude is still absolutely yours.

Following that day, I spoke one-to-one with a couple of coaches, the head coach and even one of my son’s former coaches. They were all so supportive. The team at Cornwall Gymnastics Club came together to help him, and he has since started having an amazing time at CGC again.

One of his previous coaches specifically made time to help a new coach get properly acquainted with him and understand what works for him. That meant a lot. We had already spent time figuring out how to make gymnastics manageable and enjoyable for my son. Having someone help carry that understanding across to a new coach was exactly the kind of support we needed.

Even some of the other parents who read the article have asked how he is doing. It is really lovely to see people pay attention and then check in. These situations have the potential to go either way, and I have to hand it to everyone involved: I am so glad this one went in the direction it did. It shows what our diverse community is capable of, and I am genuinely glad to be part of it.

Of course, my son still needs the occasional reinforcement. Today, he refused to do anything. So I reminded him that his task was to complete the checklist on his map so he could earn his new 2 × 2 Rubik’s Cube, which had just been delivered. Worked like a charm. Now he is with his group, running around. Apparently, today the motivation came in cube form.

Not every session is suddenly effortless. He still needs his map, his checklist and adults who understand how to support him. But he is enjoying himself again, and that is what I had been hoping for.

A special shoutout to the coaches, who are so young and yet have shown so much responsibility and care. Thank you to the head coach, his former coach, the new coaches getting to know him, and the parents who asked about him. You all helped turn a difficult experience into something much better.

My son is back to having a good time at gymnastics. Thank you for helping him get there.

View the book on Goodreads ↗ Read my Goodreads review ↗ View The Hound of Rowan on Amazon.ca (affiliate link) ↗

Listening details: The Hound of Rowan by Henry H. Neff · Book one of The Tapestry · Audiobook reread.
Affiliate disclosure: The Amazon.ca link is an affiliate link. If you buy through it, I may earn a commission at no extra cost to you. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases.

Spoiler warning: This review discusses plot developments, including the ending.

I have read Henry H. Neff’s The Hound of Rowan, the first book in The Tapestry series, before. This time, I listened to the audiobook. Same book, very different experience. Being older and having read and watched more since then, I kept finding traces of other stories in it. And honestly? This book is a huge khichuri of familiar fantasy ingredients. Henry H. Neff

The opening is genuinely interesting. Max visits an art museum with his father and discovers a mysterious Celtic tapestry. There is something extraordinary happening inside this room, and then he discovers that the room apparently does not exist. I liked that. It gave me exactly the kind of mystery that makes me want to keep reading. The discovery eventually leads him to Rowan Academy, a secret school for children with unusual abilities. Wikipedia

But before he even gets there, the comparisons begin. The supposed school representative who initially gave me McGonagall vibes turns into something monstrous. Immediately, I was thinking Percy Jackson meets Harry Potter. Then comes the magical school, the rivalry, the friendships, the ceremonies. None of these belongs exclusively to one series, obviously. But together, they kept giving me that feeling of I have been here before.

There were things about Rowan that I genuinely enjoyed, though. The way the dorm rooms are configured was interesting, and I especially liked the Sanctuary. That gave me more of a Fablehaven feeling: magical creatures living as part of the school community, rather than seeming tucked away somewhere in a Forbidden Forest until the story needs them. I liked having them feel more present.

David, Max’s roommate, was another highlight. The roommate friendship initially reminded me of Harry and Ron, but David quickly became more interesting to me than that comparison suggests. He is mysterious, and his abilities feel as though they could overshadow Max’s own. The publisher’s description even singles out the roommate’s genius as something Max will need to survive. Here was someone I wanted to know more about, not just someone accompanying the protagonist through his adventures. Penguin Random House

Elsewhere, the familiar ingredients kept piling up. A Hermione-ish schoolfriend. A journalist who gave me Cho Chang vibes. A dance that reminded me of the Yule Ball, complete with Max having a miserable time with his date. The games brought Goblet of Fire to mind; rescuing the children brought Chamber of Secrets. The villain’s imprisonment in artwork even sent my brain towards Doctor Who. And the closing conversation with the school’s director felt very much like Harry’s annual appointment with Dumbledore to discuss everything that had nearly killed him.

These are my associations, not proof that Neff copied those stories. He has described Irish mythology, particularly Cúchulainn, as a major foundation for Max and the series. But whatever the actual influences, the reading experience felt very familiar to me. Penguin Random House

What worked less well was the characterisation of Max’s father. I did not like how often he felt reduced to a comedy trope. Mum also felt one-dimensional to me. In a world with this much going on, I wanted a little more depth from them, not just another recognisable personality filling a role.

The writing itself is good. It flows smoothly, even though finishing the book took me a few attempts. Listening rather than reading changed the experience again—the audiobook is narrated by Jeff Woodman—but it also reminded me that I am no longer approaching this story with the same collection of books and shows in my head. Apple Books

I liked The Hound of Rowan enough to finish it. The mystery, David, the dorms and the creatures gave me things to enjoy beyond the comparisons. I just kept wishing the whole thing felt more distinct.

It felt like a melting pot of exciting story ideas. Some blended nicely; others were still very recognisable on the spoon. A fantasy khichuri, basically. I finished my bowl, but I could identify rather a lot of the ingredients.

I remember being ridiculed for bringing up urinary problems with my OB. By my OB. That is exactly the hush-hush nonsense I want our children to grow up without. Bodies need care. Questions deserve answers. This guide is for mums, dads, and anyone else on nappy duty.

The pictures use covered dolls and fabric demonstrations to show cleaning direction and order. They are not anatomical diagrams, so the instructions are also written out below.

Before you start — for every baby

Wash your hands and gather everything within reach: a clean nappy, a drying towel, and comfortably warm water with cotton wool or a soft cloth—or fragrance-free, alcohol-free baby wipes. A thin layer of suitable barrier cream can help when needed; follow the product instructions.

Use a changing mat or towel on the floor where possible. If you use a raised changing surface, stay beside your baby and never turn or walk away. Keep disposal bags and the nappy bin out of your baby’s reach.

The NHS nappy-changing guide recommends gathering supplies first, using a floor mat where possible, and never leaving a baby unattended on a changing table.

Baby girls: front to back, outside only

1. Wipe front → back. Move from the vulva towards the anus, keeping poo away from the urinary opening. Use a fresh wipe or a clean section of cloth for each pass.
2. Check the outer folds. Gently part the outer vulval folds only as much as needed to remove visible poo or cream. Use soft, damp strokes—no pulling or scrubbing.
3. Nothing inside. Bottom last. Never put wipes, cloths, or cotton buds inside the vagina. Clean around the anus last.

The NHS notes that a newborn girl may have a white discharge for a few days after birth because of hormones from pregnancy; do not try to clean inside the vagina to remove it. The NHS, HealthLink BC, and the Canadian Paediatric Society’s Caring for Kids all advise cleaning a baby girl from front to back.

Baby boys: clean outside, never force the foreskin

1. Clean the outside. Gently wipe the outside of the penis, scrotum, and surrounding skin.
2. Check underneath and between folds. Gently lift the scrotum to clean underneath it, then check the groin creases.
3. Bottom last. Clean around the anus last, moving poo away from the genital area.
4. Never force the foreskin back. A baby’s foreskin commonly does not retract. Forcing it can cause pain, injury, and scarring. Clean only the outside; do not pull it back to clean underneath or insert anything beneath it.

The Royal Children’s Hospital Melbourne and the Canadian Paediatric Society both confirm that a baby’s foreskin should not be forced back. After a recent circumcision, follow the clinician’s specific aftercare instructions.

Finish — for every baby

Pat the skin dry gently, including the creases. Apply a thin layer of suitable barrier cream if needed, following its instructions. Fasten a clean nappy comfortably, dispose of the waste safely, and wash your hands.

Change wet or dirty nappies promptly. Skip talcum powder and fragranced products on irritated skin. The NHS nappy-rash guidance recommends keeping the skin clean and dry, using fragrance-free and alcohol-free wipes when needed, and avoiding talcum powder.

When cleaning is not enough

This section is medical guidance beyond the cleaning steps.

Pain when peeing, unexplained fever, poor feeding, unusual fussiness, vomiting, or diarrhoea: contact a healthcare professional. Babies can have a urinary tract infection without obvious urinary symptoms, and a urine test is needed to know for sure. Boys can get UTIs too. NIDDK

A baby under three months with a temperature of 38°C or higher: seek urgent medical advice now. NHS

A child who cannot pee, or whose foreskin has been pulled back and is stuck: go to the nearest emergency department. Royal Children’s Hospital Melbourne

Sources checked

• Canadian Paediatric Society: Your baby’s skin
• HealthLink BC: Tips for diapering a newborn baby
• NHS: How to change your baby’s nappy
• NHS: Nappy rash
• Royal Children’s Hospital Melbourne: Penis and foreskin care
• NIDDK: Bladder infection symptoms and causes in children
• NHS: High temperature in children

Watch free with ads on Viki ↗ View on IMDb ↗

More official viewing links: iQIYI ↗ · WeTV ↗ · JustWatch Canada ↗. All 36 episodes were listed as free with ads on Viki in Canada when checked on October 14, 2026; availability may vary by region or change over time.

I wanted to love Legend of the Female General—I really did. The premise started with so much promise: a woman whose military achievements are stolen by her family is blinded, betrayed and left for dead. High stakes, heavy drama, endless potential. (iQIYI)

And then… parts of it felt like the writers smoked something and gave up on logic.

Her master restores her sight, so there is an explanation, but the recovery still felt far too convenient. (iQIYI’s episode guide) She returns to the military disguised as a man, and when people discover her identity, keeping her secret often seems suspiciously easy. Because she is the female lead? I needed more convincing. Instead, what should have carried serious consequences started feeling almost comic.

And what the heck is up with checking someone’s wrist pulse and immediately knowing their sex? Seriously. How much disbelief am I expected to suspend?

The Cast and Character Dynamics

Cheng Lei as Xiao Jue: I am in love with this man. Cannot quite explain it, but everywhere I see him, he is just so attractive. He has a gravitas that I find missing in a lot of other actors. Maybe it is personal preference. Whatever it is, it works. His chemistry with the cast kept me invested even when the plot was testing my patience. (IMDb)

Zhou Ye as He Yan: She is fine, but I cannot say I loved her here. The character felt needlessly comic at times, which undercut the seriousness of her story. A woman can be funny and formidable; here, the balance felt off. I think the writing did her a disservice. (IMDb)

The nephew, Cheng Lisu: I kept looking at that familiar face thinking, where have I seen him? Li Qing is credited in the role and also plays Gongsun Yin in Pursuit of Jade, which I reviewed here. Finding out he was born in 2000 surprised me; his presence in Pursuit of Jade felt so mature. There is a casting complication here, though—more on that below. (Li Qing on IMDb)

Zhang Kangle as Chu Zhao: I really liked the second male lead initially. His character had so much potential, but the direction they took him in toward the end felt forced. Conflict is one thing. Undermining a compelling character to manufacture more of it is another. (IMDb)

The Verdict

Why do so many promising shows do this? They build something worth caring about, then weaken the final stretch with needless conflict. It reminds me of my frustration with The Prisoner of Beauty, which I will write about another time. It is a pattern, and honestly, it sucks.

Would I still suggest watching it? Yes, with reservations. The premise is interesting, Cheng Lei is very much worth watching, and there are characters worth caring about. I just wish they had used the immense potential they started with instead of letting so much of it go down the drain.

I did not need it to be perfectly realistic. I needed it to at least try to convince me.

Casting note: Reports say Li Qing’s face digitally replaced original performer Li Mingde’s for Cheng Lisu. That makes these two dramas an unreliable basis for comparing Li Qing’s growth as an actor, despite the familiar face. (Layar Hijau)

View All Her Fault on Peacock ↗

In-progress review and spoiler note: I have not finished the series yet. This piece includes some spoilers for the premise and character storylines, and it discusses a missing child and the fears that brings up.

I was doomscrolling when I came across about thirty seconds of a scene. I did not know whether it was the beginning of a show or something from the middle of an episode. All I knew was that it immediately made me think, huh, I really want to know what happens next. So I went through the comments, found the name—All Her Fault—and started watching. My husband was sitting beside me, so I asked whether he wanted to watch too. I knew nothing about it. Not the genre, not the cast, not even that Dakota Fanning was in it.

The opening is simple enough: Marissa Irvine, played by Sarah Snook, arrives to collect her son Milo from a playdate. Except the woman answering the door does not know her son. He is not there. What should have been an ordinary pickup becomes something horrifying. (Peacock’s official introduction to All Her Fault)

From the beginning, it had us guessing. But what has kept me watching is not only the question of who took the child. It is how many of these people feel familiar. Their fears, their selfishness, their sacrifices, even the ways they manage to make an already awful situation worse. I do not necessarily like them all. I can still recognise them.

Marissa’s panic got to me immediately. I kept wondering what I would have done differently. Could she have done something better? Could she have prevented it? Is it her fault? The title does not exactly let you leave that question alone.

I am the mother of a six-year-old boy who is on the spectrum. One day, my son walked out of our house. We found him just two houses to the left, within minutes, but those minutes really, really scared me. Finding him quickly did not make the fear insignificant. Watching Marissa brought that moment back, along with the horrible thought of how much worse it could have been. I was watching her look for her child while remembering what it felt like not knowing where mine was.

Then there is Jenny, Dakota Fanning’s character, and the pressure of trying to make work and family life fit together. (People: Sarah Snook and Dakota Fanning on their All Her Fault characters) She gets to me for a different reason. She is trying to make her marriage work, make parenting work, keep everything functioning. Work-wise, time-wise, ego-wise—she keeps having to give something up. And somehow she is still the needy one.

Her husband, Richie, is particularly annoying because he feels real. He wants to keep being himself, keep his time, keep his freedom. I understand wanting those things. What I cannot stand is his apparent refusal to see that preserving all of that for himself means his wife has to keep giving up hers. He behaves as though the extra work is something she has personally invented and is now unfairly asking him to participate in. Meanwhile, she is drowning. That is a very recognisable kind of selfishness, which makes it much harder to dismiss as just television.

Michael Peña’s Detective Alcaras is another character I connected with: a detective trying to do his job while also parenting a son with significant support needs. (Us Weekly: Michael Peña on why he joined All Her Fault) His circumstances are not identical to mine, but I recognise the worry. He wants his son to have a good life, and wanting that does not make the practical difficulties disappear. Watching him brought up questions I already carry every day: how will my son manage when we are gone? Where will he be? Who will understand him and make sure he is looked after? Those questions do not need a crime plot to frighten me.

The people around the family make the mystery more complicated too. There is Colin, Marissa’s friend and business partner, with his gambling history; Lia, Milo’s aunt, who is in recovery; and Brian, his disabled uncle. (TIME’s review of All Her Fault) The way Brian gets treated like a child bothers me. Peter’s lying and apparent need to be the hero bother me differently. Everyone seems to have something they are hiding, defending or refusing to face. I keep changing my mind about whom I trust.

And the acting makes all of this work. Even the annoying parent-group representative is convincing enough to make me think, yes, I know this type of person. Unfortunately. These do not feel like characters who become difficult only because the plot needs another obstacle. They feel like people whose ordinary flaws have followed them into a crisis.

I have not finished the show, so I cannot tell you whether the ending holds up. But I just watched an episode where someone raised the possibility that Milo might no longer be alive, and that stopped my breathing for a moment.

My mind did what it often does: it tried to put the situation into a version involving me. Except this time, there was an immediate resistance. Almost like magnetic repulsion. The image started forming, and my mind would not let it settle around me and my son. I could not go there. I had to physically shake myself out of the feeling.

So far, I really like All Her Fault. The investigation keeps me interested, the drama works, and the performances make even the people I cannot stand worth watching. But this is not a comfortable watch for me. I am not just guessing who committed the crime. I am recognising fears I already have, in several different people, for several different reasons.

I started watching because I wanted to know what happened next. I still do. I just did not expect a thirty-second clip to lead me quite so close to home.

Health note: This is a personal reflection, not medical advice or a diagnosis. Attention, anxiety, compulsions, and pain can have many causes; a qualified professional can help with persistent or concerning symptoms.

I stepped away for two days to visit a friend’s house, and the entire time, my brain convinced me that this brief pause would cost me dearly.

Writing-wise, stretching-wise—all of it. The funny thing is, getting back to my desk and opening my laptop wasn’t actually the hard part. It was the anticipation of slipping up. The constant worry running in the background.

And as it turns out, my body didn’t forgive me for missing even a single day either. At 3:00 a.m. on the night I skipped my routine, I woke up in full pain. It’s truly baffling. I’m not out here lifting heavy weights or doing high-impact cardio—nothing that puts crazy strain on my frame. It’s literally just a handful of floor stretches. It is wild how a few simple movements can be the exact line between waking up painless and paying for it in the middle of the night.

While I didn’t write a single word during those two days, I did immerse myself in two audiobooks: The Hound of Rowan by Henry H. Neff and C.S. Lewis’s The Magician’s Nephew.

I’ve read both of these books before in print, but hearing them as audiobooks completely changes how you experience the story. A narrator’s voice can totally shift the mood. But even with a great performance, my brain did what it always does: I zoned out.

This happens to me in every single medium. I’ll be reading or listening, and at some point, my mind just drifts off into another galaxy. The audio keeps playing, or my eyes keep tracking words, but my brain has left the building.

With audiobooks, I can hit the 15-second rewind button until I find the exact spot I lost track of. But with physical books? I’m usually too lazy to flip back, and frankly, it’s almost impossible to figure out where I was when my focus decided to evaporate.

It sounds ridiculous, but it makes me wonder what my brain is actually doing. Is it ADHD?

Looking back, I feel like this focus-drift is something I’ve always had. Over time, missing details or feeling like I was falling behind caused me to develop anxiety. And then, as a defense mechanism to manage that anxiety, my brain built up OCD tendencies—tight routines, constant tracking, and overthinking every tiny slip-up.

The human brain is weird af. It builds all these elaborate coping loops and survival tactics in the background, and half the time, we’re just sitting here trying to decipher what on earth it’s up to next.

I am trying to understand the pattern which is definitely there. One missed day becomes emotionally louder than it should. Coming back should be simple, but it does not.

Maybe that is why the 80% thing helped. It gave me a way to come back without making the missed days into evidence that I failed. Two days without writing does not erase the writing. One missed night of stretching does not mean I am hopeless. It does mean my sciatic nerve may file a complaint at 3 a.m., but still. It is not a moral failure.

So maybe the goal is not perfect routine. Maybe the goal is return. Miss two days. Come back. Miss one stretch. Do it the next morning. Zone out in the audiobook. Rewind.

I think I am slowly learning that consistency is not the same as never missing. Consistency might just be the ability to return without turning the pause into a funeral.

And honestly, that is still hard for me. But I am trying. With writing, with stretching, with audiobooks, with my weird brain and its elaborate defense mechanisms. I am trying to give myself the grace of that 80%.

The 20% missed is acceptable.

View on Goodreads ↗ View The Lost Metal on Amazon.ca (affiliate link) ↗ Listen to GraphicAudio Part 1 ↗ Listen to GraphicAudio Part 2 ↗

Listening details: The Lost Metal by Brandon Sanderson · Two-part GraphicAudio dramatized adaptation · Approximately eight hours per part.
Affiliate disclosure: The Amazon.ca link is an affiliate link. If you buy through it, I may earn a commission at no extra cost to you. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases.

I listened to the two-part GraphicAudio dramatized adaptation of The Lost Metal, the last Mistborn book out so far, and honestly, I needed more than 15 days before I could even try writing about it. Not because I did not like it. Because I liked it too much. And then it hurt me.

The Lost Metal is the seventh Mistborn book and the final book of Mistborn Era 2, the Wax and Wayne era. Brandon Sanderson’s official series page describes it as the final volume of the second Mistborn saga, while GraphicAudio frames it as the “earth-shattering conclusion” to that era. The story brings Waxillium Ladrian, Wayne, Marasi, Steris, Harmony, the Set, Trell, Bilming, and bigger Cosmere threads together into one massive ending. So yes, I knew this was supposed to be big. I knew this was supposed to be an ending.

But Brandon. BRANDON. How could you do this?

Wayne, obviously

Wayne is obviously my favourite character. No contest. I love the ridiculousness, the humour, the hats, the accents, the constant performance of stupidity while actually being far more emotionally complicated than he lets on. Wayne is the type of character who walks into a scene and immediately makes everything better. And the GraphicAudio version made that even stronger for me. Bradley Foster Smith voices Wayne, with Chris Genebach as Wax, Dani Stoller as Marasi, Eva Wilhelm as Steris, and Terence Aselford as narrator. You cannot convince me Wayne has any other voice now. That is Wayne. That accent, that timing, that emotional crack behind the humour—locked in. No alternate interpretation accepted.

And that is why the ending destroyed me. I know it was good storytelling. I know. I am not saying it was badly written. That is the worst part. It was a good ending. It made sense. It completed something important. It gave Wayne weight and purpose and tragedy and beauty. But I do not like this kind of ending. No. Absolutely not.

This was a Game of Thrones-style punch to the gut. And I need fantasy because real life already has enough reality, thank you very much. I do not come to magic systems, metal powers, gods, guns, and witty idiots with emotional trauma because I want to be reminded that sacrifice hurts and endings can be unfair. I come here for escape. For wonder. For a world where somehow, after all the explosions and bad decisions, my favourite people are still standing.

But between recently reading Babel and now finishing The Lost Metal, I feel cornered by fantasy. Babel already hit me with empire, abandonment, language, violence, and being useful to people who do not truly love you. Now The Lost Metal comes and says, “Oh, you wanted comfort? Here is grief with excellent pacing.” Great. Wonderful. Very rude.

And still, I cannot deny how good this book is. Sanderson knows how to build momentum. He knows how to make systems click together. He knows how to take a character who has been comic relief for books and suddenly make you realize he was never just comic relief. Wayne’s humour was not a side dish. It was armour. It was rhythm. It was grief management. It was identity. It was a way of surviving himself.

That is why it hurts. Because when a character like that goes, it does not feel like losing a plot piece. It feels like losing the sound of the room.

The formula still works

I will say something slightly critical too. I do feel like Sanderson has a character formula sometimes. There is the quirky, ridiculous, emotionally devastating character—Wayne here, obviously. There is the strange, smart, messy, almost Shallan-esque girl energy. There is the serious man carrying duty like a disease—Wax. There is the competent, stabilizing wife or partner figure—Steris. Once I noticed the pattern, I could not fully unsee it.

But the annoying thing is, it still works. I can see the structure, and I still care. I can see the formula, and I still fall for the characters. That is either skill or witchcraft. Probably both.

Steris especially deserves credit. She could have easily been written as the “wife character,” but she is not. She is practical, precise, competent, and wonderfully herself. Wax is the serious one, yes, but Steris is not just decoration beside him. She is structure. She is strategy. She is the person who makes plans because somebody has to, and honestly, respect.

Marasi’s arc also carries that “bigger Cosmere” feeling. The book opens the world wider than Wax and Wayne’s immediate problem, and that is exciting, but also a little overwhelming. At some points I felt like I needed a small degree in Investiture to keep up. Still, it made Scadrial feel like part of something enormous, not just its own isolated setting.

A movie in my mind

The GraphicAudio production deserves a whole separate thank you. These dramatized adaptations have completely changed how I experience books. Reading in print and listening to a full-cast audio drama are not the same experience at all. GraphicAudio literally brands itself as “A Movie in Your Mind”, and honestly, yes. The music, the sound effects, the cast, the direction, the pauses, the emotional delivery—all of it makes the book feel alive in a different way. Part 1 and Part 2 are each listed at approximately eight hours, with Nathanial Perry credited as director, adapter, dialogue editor, and sound designer.

For me, at least 50% of my investment came from how well the cast performed it. Maybe more. Wayne’s voice, Wax’s seriousness, Steris’s precision, Marasi’s resolve—they are no longer abstract in my head. They have voices. They have breath. They have timing. And when the ending came, the audio made it hit harder. Betrayal by production quality, basically.

Five stars, zero peace

So where does that leave me? I loved this book. I hate this book. I respect this book. I am mad at this book. I am mad at Brandon Sanderson personally in the parasocial reader way where obviously he wrote an excellent ending but also how dare he.

It is a very good book. It is probably exactly the ending this era needed. I still have not made peace with it. And maybe that is the sign that it worked. Not every fantasy book has to comfort me. Some of them apparently get to walk into my life, make me love a character beyond reason, destroy me, and then leave me sitting there for 15 days unable to form words.

Fine.

Five stars emotionally. Zero stars for my peace of mind.

Wayne forever.

Book and listening links

• The Lost Metal by Brandon Sanderson: Goodreads · Amazon Canada (affiliate link) · Audible · GraphicAudio Part 1 · GraphicAudio Part 2
• A Game of Thrones by George R. R. Martin: Goodreads · Amazon Canada (affiliate link) · Audible
• Babel by R.F. Kuang: Goodreads · Amazon Canada (affiliate link) · Audible

View the book on Goodreads ↗ View Babel on Amazon.ca (affiliate link) ↗ Visit R.F. Kuang’s Goodreads page ↗

Listening details: Babel by R.F. Kuang · Audiobook · Fantasy / dark academia / historical fiction.
Affiliate disclosure: The Amazon.ca link is an affiliate link. If you buy through it, I may earn a commission at no extra cost to you. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases.

I finished Babel by R.F. Kuang, and honestly… damn. I went into this thinking “an arcane history” meant something like A Discovery of Witches, with magic, mystery, historical facts, and maybe some fun darkness here and there. What I did not expect was to be hit by an actual literary brick.

This book made me face things I did not expect to face: abandonment, orphanhood, being taken in by people who still do not fully claim you, bad parenting, emotional and physical abuse, alienation, racism, empire, language, translation, and the terrible feeling of being useful only as a tool to people who do not actually love you—people you would still give everything for. So yes. Light little read. Very casual.

I listened to the audiobook every chance I got. Even when I had only a little time, I kept going back to it. And what surprised me most was how much it made me think about words. Meanings. Etymology. Translation. Translators. The cost of taking one language and forcing it to serve another. These are things I had never really sat down and thought about deeply before, and this book made them feel urgent.

The magic system is not fascinating in the Brandon Sanderson kind of way. It is not the kind of magic system where I sit there admiring the rules and mechanics. But the silver-working and translation felt tied to the violence of empire. Language is not decoration here. Translation is not just academic work. It becomes labour, power, theft, resistance, and sometimes a weapon.

But what really got me was how personal it felt. Robin’s relationship with Professor Lovell reminded me sharply of my own father, who is not the greatest father out there—and yes, that is an understatement. Despite this being a story set in a very different world, it touched some very sensitive places in me. The way someone who is supposed to be a role model can shape your life while withholding actual love or belonging. That hurt to read because it felt too familiar.

No fantasy book has ever done that to me.

I also loved how flawed the characters were. Nobody is clean in this book. They make mistakes. They make selfish choices. Some characters are not great people, but not cartoonishly evil either. Even the clearly bad characters often have motivations that feel real. That made the story more painful because it was not always simple good versus bad. It was people trying to survive inside systems that had already damaged them. And the ending left me open-mouthed.

I keep thinking about how this book pulled me toward other literary works too, especially Oroonoko. Funny thing is, I was already thinking about that book while reading, and then Kuang herself mentioned it in connection with how the protagonist acts. That moment felt almost eerie, like the book had heard me thinking and decided to answer back.

Overall, Babel was not what I expected. It was not just fantasy. It was not just dark academia. It was not just historical fiction with magic. It was a book about language, power, empire, grief, belonging, and the violence of being shaped by people and institutions that never truly see you as equal. It is heavy. It is sharp. It is uncomfortable. It made me think in ways I did not expect.

View the book on Goodreads ↗ View The Wicked North on Amazon.ca (affiliate link) ↗ Visit Gina Danna’s Goodreads page ↗

Reading details: The Wicked North by Gina Danna · Historical romance / historical fiction · First read in 2018.
Affiliate disclosure: The Amazon.ca link is an affiliate link. If you buy through it, I may earn a commission at no extra cost to you. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases.

I read The Wicked North by Gina Danna back in 2018. At that time, I was not really a romance reader. Actually, romance was something I rarely touched, let alone liked. I read historical fiction, yes. I had watched Outlander before this, and I had also watched Sungkyunkwan Scandal, so clearly the historical-drama door was already slightly open. But reading historical romance? That was not really my thing yet.

So when I picked up The Wicked North, I started reading it thinking it was plain historical fiction. A little history, a little conflict, maybe some wartime danger. Safe enough. Then, as the story progressed, I realized: wait. This is romance. But by then it was too late. I was already completely engulfed by the adventure and the character dilemmas. Against my better judgment, I kept reading. I could not put it down.

Looking back, this book was basically one of my gateway books. It opened the door to historical romance for me, and somewhere down the line, that door also led me deeper into Asian historical dramas, wuxia, court politics, longing across impossible circumstances, and all that delicious historical chaos I now very much enjoy. So yes, this book has a special little place in my reading history.

The writing style pulled me in quickly. The plot kept pushing me forward, and I remember holding my breath whenever it felt like everything was about to go wrong. And honestly, that surprised me. I did not expect a romance novel to make me feel that much. Back then, I think I had this unfair little idea that romance would be lighter or less serious somehow. This book proved me wrong.

What worked for me most was how the characters grew. Jaque and Emma did not feel like cardboard people being moved around for the sake of a love story. Their emotions, decisions, fears, and conflicts made them feel alive. As I read, it genuinely felt like I was watching them grow. In a matter of days, I felt like I was living alongside them, which is usually the kind of feeling I only get after reading multiple books in a series. Getting that from one standalone story was impressive.

The romance itself was also handled really well. The romantic scenes were emotional without being unnecessarily vulgar, and the author managed to express intimacy without making it feel cheap. That mattered to me, especially as someone who was not actively looking for romance at the time. The relationship did not make me roll my eyes. It made me care. And that is probably the biggest compliment I can give this book: it made me care about a genre I did not think was for me.

Would I read it differently now? Probably. I have read and watched a lot more historical romance and historical drama since then. My taste has changed, and I have more language now for tropes, pacing, emotional tension, and character arcs. But I do not want to over-correct my original reaction too much, because the best part of it was how genuinely surprised I was.

I went in thinking I was reading historical fiction. I came out realizing historical romance could be exciting, emotional, tense, and deeply readable. So yes, The Wicked North became one of those books I remember not only because I enjoyed it, but because it changed what I thought I could enjoy. It was engaging, emotional, and completely entertaining. After reading it, I knew I wanted to find more of Gina Danna’s work, because I could trust her writing to pull me in and keep me there. For a book I started almost by accident, that is a pretty big achievement.

View on Goodreads ↗ View Escape From Samsara on Amazon.ca (affiliate link) ↗

Book: Escape From Samsara by Nicky Blue · Genre: Sci-fi / dark comedy / surreal adventure · Rating: ★★★★★
Affiliate disclosure: The Amazon.ca link is an affiliate link. If you buy through it, I may earn a commission at no extra cost to you. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases.

The verdict: Unhinged in the absolute best way possible. Adult surrealism done right.

Nicky Blue, you have one unbelievably creative mind. Reading this was an absolute ride—I found myself amazed, amused, bewildered, surprised, and thoroughly entertained from start to finish. It is mysterious, hilarious, adventurous, fantastic, and wildly unpredictable. Calling it “crazy” almost feels like an understatement!

To be clear, this is not Alice in Wonderland or a whimsical Mad Hatter trope for kids. This is that same brand of brilliant, boundary-pushing absurdity crafted specifically for an adult audience—packed with sharp twists, unexpected humour, and a storyline that keeps you completely hooked.

I genuinely wonder if Nicky Blue is even from this world, or if he is secretly an alien who experienced all of this firsthand and decided to write it down. I honestly cannot wrap my head around how a single human being managed to seamlessly blend so many different genres into ONE cohesive book.

If you are looking for one of the wackiest, most inventive, and deeply enjoyable sci-fi adventures out there, do not sleep on this book. It is a masterpiece of pure imagination!

So when Tim Hortons launched its Harry Potter / Back to Hogwarts collaboration, obviously I jumped at it. The campaign included Golden Snitch Caramel Timbits and a limited-edition Golden Snitch Timbits Holder, which is exactly the kind of “collectible” nonsense my brain cannot resist. Tim Hortons Newsroom ↗

I was very excited to get the Snitch. And then I got it. And I was… underwhelmed.

I mean, look at it. The actual Golden Snitch is supposed to be small, winged, golden, fast, and magical. The official Harry Potter encyclopedia describes it as winged and golden, and the film design used thin ribbed wings attached to a walnut-sized metal ball that was plated with gold. Harry Potter: Designing the Golden Snitch ↗

This Tim Hortons one? Cute, maybe. But not my beloved golden, shimmery, shiny Snitch. It looked like a plastic peanut-butter-coloured bubble. Not shelf-worthy. Not yet.

The makeover

So I decided to give it a makeover.

I have not really worked on anything like this before. I am mostly a “watch Nerdforge do giant projects and then accidentally develop dangerous confidence” person. But the Snitch was sitting there looking sad, and something had to be done.

First, I added texture using paper towel and glue. Very glamorous. Very “primary school craft table, but with adult emotional investment.” Then I let it dry, because apparently making things is mostly waiting and wondering if you have ruined everything.

Then I diluted some pink plaster and coated the Snitch with it. This was the stage where it looked worse before it looked better, which is rude but apparently normal. Once that dried, I painted it with acrylic gold. Finally, less peanut butter. More Snitch.

Then I added champagne gold for dimension, because flat gold was not enough. The Snitch deserved drama. Then came glitter. I tried to make Mod Podge. Did I succeed? No. Did glue and glitter save me anyway? Yes. Glue and glitter it was.

At this point, it was already better than what I started with. Not perfect, but definitely more alive. More mine.

Then I brushed on a light layer of UV epoxy.

Affiliate link: I used this UV resin kit from Amazon.ca ↗. If you buy through this link, I may earn a commission at no extra cost to you. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases.

I had never worked with epoxy before. This stuff does not smell nice, and it is not exactly easy to work with. Also, I do not have a big UV lamp because apparently I am not a professional resin wizard. I had my little UV pen, so I spent ages pointing it at different parts of the Snitch like I was performing a very specific low-budget spell.

Tiny practical note: if you work with resin or epoxy, follow the label and safety data sheet, use as much ventilation as possible, wear the right protective equipment, avoid skin contact, and cure it according to the manufacturer’s instructions. A tiny craft project does not mean tiny fumes. My respect for resin people has increased dramatically. CDC/NIOSH epoxy and resin safety guidance ↗

The final reveal

And finally, after paper towel, glue, plaster, gold paint, champagne gold, glitter, failed Mod Podge dreams, and too much UV-pen pointing, it became this:

Is it movie-prop perfect? Absolutely not. Is it better than the plastic peanut-butter bubble I started with? Yes. Very much yes.

Actual Snitch inspiration

Tim Hortons version

My revamped version

And that is the joy of making, isn’t it? Not perfection. Not professional-level results. Just taking something disappointing and saying, wait, I can make this more mine.

I got to use my hands. I got to make a mess. I got to problem-solve badly and then slightly better. I got to watch something plain become something shiny. And now, instead of sitting on my shelf as a sad promotional object, it gets to sit there as my upgraded Snitch.

So yes, this goes on my Harry Potter shelf. Not because it is perfect. Because I made it better.

And honestly, that is its own kind of magic.

Health note: This is my personal experience, not medical advice. Sciatic pain can have different causes, and exercises are not suitable for everyone. If movement worsens your symptoms, causes new pain, or makes you feel unwell, stop and seek advice from a qualified healthcare professional.

Yesterday I felt feverish and so tired that my entire daily routine went out the window. I was stuck to the couch all day and then the bed all night. No TV, no phone, no music, no audiobook. Just me, my body, and full system shutdown.

Thankfully, my husband, my brother, and my brother’s wife took care of my son so completely that I did not have to worry at all. My sister-in-law even kept track of his hydration. Honestly, great to have family.

But this morning, I woke up with horrible pain in my back and thighs, and my sciatic nerve was absolutely not in a forgiving mood. It was like my body had sent a formal complaint: you skipped your stretches, now suffer.

I told my husband my body was killing me because I did not do my simple stretches last night. He very casually said, “Then do them now.”

Why had I not thought of that?

Seriously, the amount of obvious solutions my brain can refuse to access sometimes is impressive.

So I got on the floor and did the handful of movements I usually do. Nothing dramatic. No weightlifting. No running. No cycling. No “beast mode.” Just small, boring, gentle movements that apparently keep my body from becoming a haunted chair.

This is what I did:

1. Straight leg raises — I lay flat on the floor, kept one leg down, and raised the other leg up 10 times. Then I switched legs.
2. Side clamshells — I lay on my side, folded my knees, and opened and closed the top leg like a butterfly wing. Then I repeated on the other side.
3. Side leg raises — Still lying sideways, legs straight, I lifted the top leg as high as I comfortably could, 10 times per side.
4. Glute bridges — I lay on my back, knees bent, and raised my hips 10 times while keeping my upper back on the floor.
5. Piriformis stretch — I held it for a count of 10, then repeated on the other side.
6. My “flipped U” stretch — I do not know if this is the official name. It is probably not. But I know what I mean, my body knows what I mean, and we held it for 10 counts.

That was it. That is all it took to make the horrifying pain calm down enough for me to continue my day. It did not vanish completely, but it eased. And sometimes that is the whole victory: not perfect, just functional.

This is also why I keep coming back to stretching. Sciatic pain is not something I can bully out of my body with motivation quotes. But gentle movement matters. Mayo Clinic notes that while resting for a day or so may provide relief, staying inactive can make sciatica symptoms worse, and gentle low-back stretching may provide some relief. Cleveland Clinic also lists gentle movement and stretching among the self-care options that may help relieve pressure on the sciatic nerve.

The important word is gentle. I am not trying to prove anything to the floor. NHS guidance on back exercises says stretches should feel like a gentle stretch, not soreness or discomfort, and that you should stop if exercises worsen symptoms or cause new pain.

And that is what I am trying to learn: maintenance does not have to look impressive. Sometimes taking care of my body is not a full workout set with matching clothes and heroic music. Sometimes it is me on the floor in whatever I slept in, doing 10 leg raises because apparently my spine has terms and conditions.

There is another layer to this too.

I grew up being told that being muscular was not feminine. That if I did exercises or built strength, I would look like a man. Every time I did anything that might give me muscles, that warning was there. It was said to me decades ago, but it stuck. Of course it did. These things stick like cheap glue and generational nonsense.

So even now, part of me is still fighting that old brainwashing.

But the older I get, the more I understand that strength is not about looking masculine or feminine. Strength is being able to get off the floor. Strength is carrying groceries. Strength is supporting your spine. Strength is keeping your hips, back, and legs from declaring independence every time you miss one night of stretching.

My body does not need me to be ornamental. It needs me to be functional.

So yes, I stretch. Not because I am trying to become a gym person. Not because I suddenly love exercise. I still do not understand running and going nowhere. But these tiny stretches? They help. They keep the pain from taking over. They remind me that my body needs care before it starts screaming.

And every time I choose that care, I am also quietly arguing with a 30-year-old lie.

Muscle is not unfeminine.

Movement is not vanity.

Stretching is not small.

Sometimes it is the difference between being stuck in pain and being able to live your day.

Content note: mental health, possible neurodivergence, family abuse, and intergenerational trauma. This is a personal essay, not a diagnosis or medical advice.

I have been thinking about how I function. Or maybe, more honestly, how I don’t.

I do not know exactly where I fit. I do not know if I fall under the autism spectrum, and if I do, what that actually means for me. I know I have traits. I have difficulty with communication. I have anxiety. I am prone to depression. I have OCD symptoms. I also have ADHD, and sometimes I wonder whether one thing is causing another thing, or whether everything is sitting in one messy group chat inside my brain.

When I have tried to say even half of this to parent figures, the response has sometimes been, “What do you not have?”

And I hate how much that sentence lands.

It makes me wonder whether I am collecting labels. Whether I am self-diagnosing too much. Whether I am making a normal human life sound like a medical chart. Whether this is some kind of Munchausen thing. But the proper term now is factitious disorder imposed on self, and that involves falsifying, creating, exaggerating, or inducing symptoms with deception. That is not what I am doing. I am not trying to pretend I have something. I am trying to understand why certain ordinary things feel so impossibly hard.

I am not looking for a medal in the suffering Olympics. I am looking for the user manual.

Every once in a while, I discover something small about myself and it explains a little corner of my life. Recently, I realized just how much I am affected by a change in plans. Not in a “my plans are set in stone and everyone must obey me” way. It is more like I build an expectation in my head, and when reality suddenly deviates from it, I have to recalibrate my entire inner system. And that recalibration is painful.

One time, we went to watch Sindhu Vee. We had front-row seats. Because of a misunderstanding, we went to the wrong venue first and arrived late to the actual one. The staff seated us somewhere else.

Objectively, nothing terrible happened. We were still there. She was still there in flesh. It was still her show. We were only a few rows away.

But inside me, something broke from the original plan and would not repair itself. The fact that I was not sitting where I was supposed to sit hovered over me like a dark cloud. I could not enjoy the show properly. I could not console myself. I could tell myself all the rational things — this is fine, you are still here, the show is still happening — and my brain basically said, thank you for your input, rejected.

I do not know if that is an autism thing for me. I am not diagnosing myself based on one ruined comedy show. But autism diagnostic descriptions do include things like insistence on sameness, inflexible adherence to routines, difficulty with transitions, rigid thinking patterns, and distress at small changes. So at least I know this reaction is not a completely alien phenomenon. There is a language for this kind of difficulty. Whether that exact language belongs to me clinically is another question.

The strange part is that I see a version of this in my son too. If I wipe his face before he is done rinsing, even if that has never officially been “the rule,” he can become deeply upset because in that moment, he had a sequence in his head. He was going to rinse first, then wipe. I interrupted the inner order. And to him, that interruption is not small.

When I saw that in him, it made me think of myself sitting in the wrong seat at the comedy show, unable to climb out of the feeling. And then the guilt starts.

How am I supposed to properly support and nurture my child when I do not even fully understand myself?

But maybe that is also the wrong question. Maybe understanding myself is part of how I support him.

I am not exactly like my son. His needs are his own. My needs are mine. But sometimes, recognizing the shape of a feeling in myself helps me take his feelings more seriously. It helps me remember that what looks small from the outside may not be small on the inside.

That does not mean every feeling gets to run the whole house. It means the feeling deserves to be understood before it is corrected.

I also struggle with uncertainty in bigger ways. Work, for example. The traditional job market, with all its unpredictability, expectations, social rules, interruptions, and unclear demands, can feel unbearable to me. And then I feel guilty for not functioning the way I think I “should.” I feel bad when I am not earning money in the way I expected myself to. I feel like I should be able to do more, be more, handle more.

At the same time, I think I am doing good work as a mother. I am trying to be understanding. I am trying to use every resource I can. I am trying to give my child what he needs instead of what the world thinks should be easy. My therapist has helped me put some of this into perspective, and she has reassured me that focusing on my child and my mental health is not a failure. It is still work. It is still important.

Still, I doubt myself all the time.

One of my biggest struggles is consistency. I am trying to maintain daily stretching and daily writing. Most days, it is hard. But pushing myself to keep the streak going matters to me because consistency is not easy for me. Some people can decide, “I will lift weights,” and then they lift the weights. I look at the same situation and think, sure, theoretically I can build muscle, but first I need to convince myself to do one rep, and apparently that requires a constitutional amendment.

The annoying thing is that I can sometimes maintain a streak once it exists. But starting, restarting, or returning after an interruption is hard. The problem is not always doing the thing; sometimes the problem is coming back to the thing after life interrupts it.

This is where ADHD and OCD become confusing for me. Adult ADHD can involve difficulty staying organized, completing tasks, remembering daily tasks, managing time, following through, and staying on track. OCD can involve unwanted intrusive thoughts and compulsions such as repeated checking, including checking whether a door is locked or an oven is off.

So when I forget whether I locked the door, is that ADHD? When I check it three or four times to calm the anxiety, is that OCD? Did the ADHD create the uncertainty and the OCD build a ritual around it? Or are they both there, taking turns making one ordinary door emotionally expensive?

I do not know.

The same goes for things like cracks on the floor. Is stepping on or avoiding cracks an OCD thing? It could be, if it is driven by intrusive fear, urgency, distress, or a sense that something bad will happen unless I do it “right.” But it could also be a habit, a sensory preference, a pattern-making brain, a superstition, or just one of those small private rules people carry around. The difference is usually not the behaviour alone. It is the function of the behaviour: why I do it, what happens if I resist it, and how much it interferes with my life.

That is the kind of thing I am learning in therapy. Not every pattern needs panic. Not every symptom needs a dramatic label. But also, not every struggle should be dismissed as “everyone does that.”

There is a middle ground.

I have done CBT. I have done CPT. I have done CBT for OCD. I am still learning. For OCD, NICE includes CBT with exposure and response prevention as a recommended psychological treatment option, depending on severity and need. CPT, on the other hand, is a trauma-focused therapy for PTSD that helps people examine and change upsetting thoughts about trauma and how it affects their view of themselves, others, and the world.

And yes, I am managing better. Not cured. Not transformed into a peaceful mountain monk. But better.

I still forget things. I still get stuck. I still spiral sometimes. I still feel like my brain is a group project where nobody read the instructions. But I am starting to understand the moving parts. I am starting to recognize when something is ADHD-flavoured, when it feels OCD-flavoured, when anxiety is driving the car, when trauma has entered the room, and when I simply need more rest, less noise, and fewer demands.

I also know that autism, ADHD, OCD, anxiety, and depression can overlap in real life. Research on autistic adults shows elevated rates of anxiety and depression, though estimates vary across studies. One systematic review and meta-analysis estimated current anxiety disorder prevalence in autistic adults at 27% and current depressive disorder prevalence at 23%, with lifetime rates higher.

So maybe the question is not, “Which one thing explains everything?”

Maybe the better question is, “What pattern am I seeing, and what support does that pattern need?”

Because I may not have a neat answer. I may never have one perfect label that makes every part of me click into place. Maybe I am ADHD plus OCD. Maybe I have autistic traits. Maybe I am autistic and undiagnosed. Maybe trauma and anxiety amplify everything. Maybe all of these things overlap in ways that are not easy to separate.

But I know this: my experience is real, even before it is perfectly named.

And naming something is not the same as excusing everything. Understanding myself does not mean I stop trying. It means I stop using shame as my only tool.

Shame has not made me more functional. It has only made me more afraid.

Understanding gives me something else. It gives me clues. It tells me that if change is hard, I may need transition time. If uncertainty is hard, I may need written plans or backup plans. If memory is unreliable, I may need checklists instead of self-hatred. If compulsions are taking over, I need to use the tools I learned in therapy instead of feeding the loop. If I cannot restart a routine after interruption, I need a return plan, not another speech about discipline.

And as a mother, this matters.

Because the way I treat myself becomes part of the emotional weather my son grows up in. If I treat every difficulty in myself as laziness, drama, or failure, I may accidentally teach him to do the same to himself. But if I can say, this is hard, let’s understand why and build support around it, then maybe I give both of us something better.

There is another layer to this too. I am not only trying to navigate being a mother to my son. I am also trying to be some kind of parent figure, guide, older-sibling-anchor, emotional roadside assistance person to my brother.

He is a new parent too. He is trying to figure out how to be a father without becoming overprotective to the point of suffocation. At the same time, he is also my son’s uncle, and that role matters too. He has to learn how to show up for his own child without failing mine. How to protect one child without pushing the other one aside. How to be present in both relationships without making either child feel like they are competing for his care.

And somehow, I find myself trying to help him navigate that while I am still learning how to navigate it myself.

It is such a delicate balance. I do not want to be the overprotective mother who makes everything around my son rigid, fearful, and controlled. But I also know my son needs support. He needs adults around him who understand him, not adults who love him only when he is easy. And I want my brother to understand that too — that being a good father and being a good uncle are not opposing roles. One child does not need to be emotionally sacrificed for another child to feel loved.

The hard part is that neither of us really had a good model.

My mother has always operated in deeply narcissistic ways. Everything about us becomes her business. Our achievements become hers to announce. Our needs barely register unless they inconvenience her. If she is absent, we are expected to substitute for her. If we do not do it properly, she is right there with the first blow of criticism — and sometimes, not just metaphorically.

So we did not grow up learning gentle guidance. We learned performance. We learned criticism. We learned that love could be made into a public announcement, but care was not always available in private. We learned that children could become extensions of a parent’s ego rather than people with their own needs.

And now here we are, trying to parent actual children. Trying to become the kind of adults we did not consistently have.

I am trying to teach my brother something I am still learning myself: that protection is not the same as control. That love is not ownership. That being needed by a child is not the same as making the child responsible for your emotional worth. That a child should not have to become smaller, quieter, more convenient, or less themselves to keep an adult regulated.

But I also know this is complicated by gender and culture and all the old nonsense sitting inside family systems. I am his sister. I am a woman. Socially, I am allowed to be “soft,” emotional, nurturing — all the things that get dismissed as less serious until suddenly everyone needs someone to do the emotional work. I do not always know whether he hears me as someone worth learning from, especially when the world still teaches men that being guided by a woman is somehow weakness.

That hurts too.

Because there is no ideal father figure standing there for him to copy. No emotionally healthy male model in the family saying, “Here, this is how you protect without controlling. This is how you love without dominating. This is how you show up for children without making them carry your wounds.”

So I am trying to say it. Imperfectly. From my side. With my own wounds still open in places.

And maybe that is part of why this whole question of where I fit feels so big. I am not only trying to understand my own brain. I am trying to mother my son, support my brother, protect both children from old family patterns, and not become so overcorrective that I create a different kind of pressure.

I am trying to break a cycle while still learning what a healthy cycle even looks like.

No wonder I am tired. So where do I fit? I have no idea. I really don’t.

I do not know exactly what I am. I do not know which parts are ADHD, which parts are OCD, which parts are anxiety, which parts are trauma, which parts are possibly autism, and which parts are just me trying to survive with a brain that has always been a little too loud, too rigid, too forgetful, too sensitive, too much, and somehow still not enough for the world around me.

I am still figuring it out.

I am figuring out how to understand myself without turning every struggle into either a diagnosis or a character flaw. I am figuring out how to be there for my son as his mother and his support. I am figuring out how to guide my brother without becoming another controlling voice in his life. I am figuring out how to help both children be loved well, protected well, and not crushed under the weight of adult wounds they did not create.

I do not always know if I am doing any of this right. Most of the time I am guessing with love, anxiety, memory, trauma, therapy language, and Google Calendar all holding hands in the corner.

But I am trying.

I am trying to learn my son. I am trying to support my brother. I am trying to notice old patterns before they become new injuries. And somewhere in all of that, I am also trying to learn myself.

Maybe that is the part I did not expect.

That parenting my son, and trying to help my brother parent his child, would make me look back at myself and ask: who was supposed to help me with this? Who was supposed to notice that I struggled? Who was supposed to be patient with me? Who was supposed to explain, guide, nurture, soften the world a little instead of making me feel defective for not fitting smoothly into it?

I do not have good answers to those questions, but I am trying not to abandon myself just because other people did.

Just because no one bothered to be kind to me in the ways I needed does not mean I have to continue that tradition. Just because no one properly nurtured me does not mean I cannot learn to nurture myself now. Awkwardly. Imperfectly. Late. With therapy homework, phone notes, daily writing streaks, stretching, and occasionally crying over a change of plans that “should not” matter but does.

Maybe I do not know where I fit yet.

Maybe I am still standing somewhere between labels, memories, symptoms, coping mechanisms, family roles, motherhood, sisterhood, and plain old survival.

But I am here. I am paying attention now.

And maybe that is where I start: by being curious instead of cruel. By being there for my son, trying to guide my brother with whatever wisdom I have scraped together, and slowly learning how to be there for myself too.

View on Goodreads ↗ View Egbert’s World on Amazon.ca (affiliate link) ↗

Disclosure: I received this book as an advance reader copy (ARC) in exchange for an honest review. As promised, this review is completely honest.
Affiliate disclosure: The Amazon.ca link is an affiliate link. If you buy through it, I may earn a commission at no extra cost to you. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases.

I am genuinely happy I came across Egbert’s World.

According to the Goodreads listing, the story follows Lucius Domhill, a boy who enters the world of Eve after his grandfather Egbert and his dog Sammy mysteriously disappear in a blinding light. There is also an old prophecy, an ancient evil, and the promise of two worlds at stake—which already gives the book a strong fantasy-adventure setup.

From the moment I started reading, I was hooked. The book is full of excitement. Actually, it almost feels as if the whole thing is made up of the exciting parts of a much larger, more expansive novel. There is very little breathing room, but I enjoyed the ride anyway.

One thing I really liked was how the author gives only small pieces of each character’s history, yet still manages to make them feel interesting. That is not always easy to do. Some books give you pages and pages of backstory, and somehow the characters still feel like cardboard. Here, the writing is much more economical. You get just enough to understand that there is more beneath the surface, and that made me want to know more.

I also liked how quickly different ideas merged together. The story moves through mystery, fantasy, prophecy, danger, tests, strange beings, and emotional moments without making the combination feel forced. It is fast—sometimes maybe too fast—but the world itself is imaginative and easy to get pulled into.

Spoiler section

The main reason this is not a five-star read for me is that some important moments felt rushed.

For example, when the grandfather vanishes, I wanted a little more time to feel the emotional impact of that. That is a huge event, but the story moves on so quickly that there is not much space to sit with the loss, fear, confusion, or grief. I wanted the book to slow down there, just for a moment.

The same thing happened with the test involving the wolf. When the protagonist is deemed worthy, that should feel like a major turning point. But the test itself is not really explored in the depth I expected. I wanted to see more of what happened, what was being tested, and why that moment mattered so much.

That is what I mean when I say the book is “too exciting.” It is not boring—absolutely not. It is almost the opposite. It keeps moving so quickly that some of the emotional and character-building moments do not get enough room to land.

That said, I really liked that Sammy gets to speak a little about what he wants after gaining speech. That moment stood out to me because it gave him more personality and made the magical elements feel more meaningful.

There were also a few misplaced punctuation marks that pulled me out of the story here and there. Not enough to ruin the experience, but enough that I noticed.

Overall, I enjoyed Egbert’s World. It is imaginative, fast-moving, and full of adventure. I just wish some of its biggest moments had been given more room to breathe. The book has the bones of a richer, more satisfying fantasy world, and I wanted to spend more time inside those emotional beats instead of rushing past them.

So, not quite five stars for me—but definitely a book I am glad I read.

View the Shokz OpenDots ONE on Amazon.ca (affiliate link) ↗

I bought the Shokz OpenDots ONE because I have what I lovingly call useless tiny ear canals. No regular earbud stays in my ears. They either fall out, hurt, or both. I had one Soundcore pair that actually stayed, but it wrapped around the ear and became painful after a while. Over-ear headphones are too heavy for my main use, which is listening to audiobooks at night. I needed something light, comfortable, secure, and not trying to excavate my ear canal.

I tried the OpenDots ONE with suspicion. I fully expected them to be too heavy, too weird, or one of those “revolutionary design” products that revolutionizes my patience only. But somehow, they worked.

The fit is the whole magic

These are open-ear, clip-on earbuds. They do not go inside the ear canal. Shokz describes the fit as placing the round speaker against the inner ridge of the ear, with the battery compartment behind the ear. Each earbud weighs about 6.5 g, and the design uses a flexible JointArc and silicone grip to stay in place.

For me, they stay. Not just during the day. They usually stay in my ears until morning. On very rough sleep nights, one might escape and end up beside me like it gave up on the mission, but most nights I wake up with them still in place. That is wild to me. Regular earbuds cannot survive five minutes in my ears, and these somehow survive my sleep.

The comfort is the biggest win. They do not press deep into my ear. They do not give me that blocked-ear feeling. They do not make me aware of my ear canals every three seconds. For audiobook listening at night, they are almost perfect. The sound is comfortable and clear enough for what I need. I am not trying to produce a studio album in bed. I am trying to listen to someone narrate a book while I slowly become unconscious like a responsible adult goblin.

The app, connection, and battery

I also really like the app. The Shokz app features include preset EQ modes, custom sound profiles, and a Dolby Audio option. I like being able to tune the sound to what I need instead of being stuck with one “this is what engineers think ears want” setting.

Connection has also been flawless for me. I love that I can keep the earbuds connected to both my PC and phone. Shokz calls this MultiPoint Pairing, which lets the earbuds connect to two devices and switch between them. In actual use, this means I can listen from my computer, then move to my phone, then get into the car, and the whole thing does not become a Bluetooth divorce proceeding. It just works. Beautiful. We love technology when it behaves.

Battery life has also been more than enough for my use. Shokz lists up to 10 hours on a single charge and up to 40 hours with the charging case, plus quick charging and Qi wireless charging support. I do not micromanage the battery because I simply do not need to. I put them back in the case, and they are ready again.

The touch-control problem

Now, the one thing I do not love: the touch controls. My mother-in-law and my older sister both seem to like the controls. Yes, even the controls. I know. Very suspiciously functional of them.

I, however, am AuDHD, and the touch-control instructions for volume feel confusing to me. The earbuds use taps and two-finger pinches on the battery compartment or JointArc for things like play/pause, calls, and volume. Some gestures can be customized in the Shokz app. Shokz’s control guide says volume up and down use a two-finger pinch-and-hold gesture on the right or left earbud, which sounds simple on paper but becomes less simple when my brain is involved.

It is not a dealbreaker. I mostly control volume, play, pause, and everything else from my phone. That works better for me. You can deactivate or customize several touch features in the app, but not everything disappears completely. I have accidentally turned the volume all the way down before without realizing what happened, and then sat there thinking the earbuds had betrayed me. They had not. My fingers had simply joined the enemy.

I really hope Shokz improves that in the next version. I would love an option to fully disable all touch controls, especially for people like me who accidentally activate things while adjusting hair, lying down, half-asleep, or just existing with hands. But honestly, that is my only real complaint. Everything else? Fantastic.

Would I recommend them?

The design is clever. The fit is secure. The earbuds are super lightweight. They are cute. They do not hurt my ears. They stay on my weird tiny-ear situation. They connect beautifully. They work well across devices. They are comfortable enough for nighttime audiobook listening. And the fact that I bought them not only for myself but also for my mother-in-law and older sister says everything.

Because we all had the same problem: earbuds never stayed. These did.

So yes, for me, the Shokz OpenDots ONE are very close to five stars. The touch controls keep them from being emotionally perfect, but not from being practically excellent.

Would I recommend them? Absolutely, especially if you have tiny ear canals, hate in-ear pressure, dislike heavy headphones, or want open-ear earbuds that actually stay put.

Would I buy them again? I already did. Twice.

View on Goodreads ↗ View Volume 5 on Amazon.ca (affiliate link) ↗

Reading details: English light novel translation · Read from September 12 to September 28, 2026.
Affiliate disclosure: The Amazon.ca link is an affiliate link. If you buy through it, I may earn a commission at no extra cost to you. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases.

Spoiler warning: This review discusses events from Volume 5 and assumes you have watched up to where the current anime season ends.

Volume 5 of The Apothecary Diaries starts exactly where the anime currently leaves off, which made it very easy for me to slide into the story. Maomao is back to being an apothecary, though obviously nothing around Maomao stays simple for long. The aftermath of the Shi clan arc continues, and we find out what happened to Suirei, the children of the clan, and Suirei’s brother, who has lost all his memories and ends up living with Maomao. At first, Maomao thinks she might train him as an apothecary. Very practical. Very Maomao. Except he has absolutely no interest in medicine. None. Zero. He is much more interested in painting, partly because he has a hand for it and partly because he can actually earn money from it. Honestly, fair. Maomao may love poison and medicine like they personally raised her, but not everyone wants to join her apothecary cult of curiosity.

From there, the story opens up into one of the things The Apothecary Diaries does best: small clues slowly becoming something much bigger. With help from Jinshi and Basen, Maomao starts following leads connected to the old Shi clan apothecary. That eventually leads to the possibility of a coming famine caused by locusts, and to the fascinating detail that the Shi clan had once prevented such a disaster by maintaining the bird population in their region. This is the kind of worldbuilding I really enjoy in this series. It is not just palace gossip. It is medicine, agriculture, ecology, politics, survival, food supply, class structure, and Maomao connecting things because her brain refuses to leave a mystery alone. The locust issue is not glamorous, but it feels important. It is exactly the kind of practical problem that makes this world feel alive.

Maomao, Basen, and ordinary life

The character dynamics were also great. I especially enjoyed Maomao and Basen’s interactions. Basen brings such a different energy around her, and Maomao being Maomao means every interaction has this dry, slightly sideways humour to it. I also loved Maomao’s hunt for books, her completely normal-to-her and alarming-to-everyone-else feelings about poison, and how the brothel continues to be portrayed as a business place rather than only a tragic or romantic setting. The children being allowed to simply be children in that world also stood out to me. The story could easily make everything darker than necessary, but it often gives small pockets of ordinary life room to breathe.

Jinshi’s side of the story is also becoming more complicated. He is now openly in the position of needing a bride, and his interest in Maomao is plain as day. Like, my guy, we can all see it from here. Maomao’s cousin knows it too, and even takes her to parties where she could be exposed as a possible candidate for Jinshi. But Maomao remains Maomao: observant, practical, unimpressed, and not particularly interested in behaving like the romantic lead everyone else seems to know she is. And so the dance continues. I do wish there had been more Jinshi in this volume, though. I understand that the plot needed to move through the locust investigation, the Shi clan aftermath, the memory-loss thread, and Maomao’s apothecary life, but still. I wanted more of him. I wanted more of their strange, slow, socially impossible, emotionally constipated dynamic. Hopefully Volume 6 gives me more of that.

The feeling behind the English

One thing this volume made me think about a lot is translation. I am reading the English light novel because graphic novels and manga just do not work well for my brain. The light novel format is much easier for me. Just words. A clear line. A story I can follow without my eyes having to decode panels, speech bubbles, and visual chaos. But even though the story flows well in English, I kept feeling that something was being lost. Not necessarily plot. The plot is there. But tone, maybe. Urgency. Comedy. The exact flavour of certain scenes. Some moments felt like they should have been funnier, sharper, or more emotionally immediate than they came across in English. And this is the problem with translation, isn’t it? Do you stay faithful to the literal words, the feeling, the rhythm, the cultural context, or the reader’s understanding? Whichever direction you choose, something gets sacrificed. It made me genuinely understand the value of learning more languages, because sometimes I could feel there was another version of the scene hiding behind the English.

That said, the story progression is strong. The world keeps expanding in smart ways. Maomao remains wonderfully herself: curious, blunt, brilliant, poison-obsessed, and emotionally slippery in the most entertaining way. The political pieces are moving, the mystery is satisfying, and the character work is still the heart of it.

Final thoughts

Volume 5 is not my favourite only because I wanted a little more Jinshi and because the translation sometimes felt like it softened the flavour of scenes that should have hit harder. But as a continuation from the anime, it is absolutely worth reading. It picks up smoothly, gives more depth to the aftermath of the Shi clan arc, and reminds me why I like this series so much. Maomao is back in apothecary mode. Jinshi is circling emotionally like a man pretending he is not obvious. Basen is fun. The locust plot is weirdly gripping and makes me wanna read more. And I am, once again, fully seated for whatever poisonous, political, socially awkward nonsense comes next.

Watch on Netflix ↗ Watch the official trailer ↗

I watched If Wishes Could Kill some time ago, and I remember thinking: okay, this one actually worked.

It is a Korean YA horror series about high school students who get tangled up with a cursed wish-granting app called Girigo. Netflix describes it as its first Korean YA horror series, centred on ordinary school life being shattered when the app starts granting wishes under terrifying conditions.

The basic deal is simple and immediately suspicious: you make a wish through the app, the wish comes true, and then there is a deadly price to pay.

Because apparently even supernatural apps now have terms and conditions nobody reads.

The story follows a group of students at Seorin High School—Yoo Se-ah, Lim Na-ri, Kim Geon-woo, Kang Ha-joon, and Choi Hyeong-wook—as they try to understand what Girigo is, why people are dying, and how the curse began. The show mixes school friendship drama, jealousy, betrayal, shamanism, spirit-world horror, and technology in a way that could have gone very stupid very fast, but mostly does not.

And that is probably the biggest compliment I can give it: the haunted-app thing did not feel ridiculous.

That is not easy. Technology plus supernatural horror is a dangerous combination. Too often it becomes either “phone bad” boomer panic or something that sounds like it was invented during a cannabis session where someone said, “Bro, what if Instagram was possessed?”

But If Wishes Could Kill managed to make the app feel modern and the curse feel old. The horror sits somewhere between phone-screen dread and traditional occult fear, and that combination gives the show its flavour. India Today made a similar point in its review, describing the show’s distinct identity as the intersection of the technological and the spiritual—where the app behaves less like normal software and more like a conduit for something older.

That is exactly the part I liked.

Spoiler warning

From here onward, I am going to talk about plot details, deaths, the curse, and the ending. So if you have not watched it and want to go in clean, stop here, go watch the show, and come back later.

Or don’t. I am not your app-curse supervisor.

What worked for me

The death scenes were the part that actually freaked me out.

Not just because they were bloody, although yes, they were. What got me was the helplessness. Once the curse started moving toward someone, it had this horrible inevitability. The characters could see something awful coming, but they could not stop it properly. They could struggle, shout, run, try to intervene—but the scene kept moving toward blood anyway.

That is the kind of horror that gets under my skin. Not necessarily because it is the deepest thing ever written, but because it makes you feel trapped inside the scene with the characters. You are watching them fight for their lives, but the curse has already put its hand on the steering wheel.

The storytelling also kept me watching. The show did a good job giving just enough answers to keep the mystery moving while still holding back the larger origin of the curse. You know there is something wrong with Girigo. You know the app is not just an app. You know there is a past tragedy, a shamanic connection, and some kind of hidden emotional rot behind it all.

But the show does not throw everything at you in the first episode and say, “Here, memorize this curse syllabus.”

It unfolds.

The shaman thread also worked better than I expected. Ha-joon’s sister, Haetsal, being connected to shamanism could have felt randomly inserted, but it gave the show a useful second layer. The kids are dealing with a modern curse on their phones, but the older generation of spiritual knowledge still matters. Rituals, spirit work, and the curse’s origin all become part of the same mess. So the supernatural side does not feel like decoration. It actually matters to the plot. Netflix’s own series description and episode guide explicitly connect Haetsal, Bangwool, their rituals, and the group’s hunt for the source of Girigo’s curse.

And I liked that the show eventually becomes more complicated than “evil ghost bad.” The group misunderstands what is haunting them. They think one thing is the root problem, but the real source of the curse is somewhere else, tied to old betrayal, humiliation, and a wish that should never have been made. The ending explanation from The Cinemaholic lays out that misdirection: Hye-ryung is not the spirit orchestrating the attacks, and the students have been looking toward the wrong wound.

That twist worked for me. Not because I sat there stroking my chin and saying, “Ah yes, the intergenerational metaphysics of digital resentment.”

No.

It worked because I like when horror lets you think you understand the monster, then goes: actually, you were looking at the wrong wound.

The characters and the messy teen emotions

What I remember most is that all the kids are fighting for their lives, but they are also still teenagers. That matters. They are scared, jealous, in love, guilty, defensive, and stupid in the very human way teenagers can be when everything feels enormous.

There is a couple at the centre of the emotional mess, and two other people are in love with them or tangled around them. One of those people helps cause a major part of the disaster but stays hidden until very late. That worked because it made the curse feel less like random horror and more like the worst possible outcome of jealousy, resentment, and secrets.

The girl in the main couple keeps trying to save the person she loves, and she does it with the help of the guy who loves her. That emotional triangle could have become annoying, but because everyone is being chased by a death curse, there is not much time for soft-focus romantic nonsense.

Thank God. We have bigger problems, people. The app is killing classmates.

I also liked Haetsal and her partner, Bangwool, guiding the spirit-world parts. When Se-ah goes into the spirit dimension to face the evil behind the curse, the show becomes more visually and spiritually ambitious. That could have gone full nonsense, but it mostly stayed watchable and creepy.

The symbolism people talk about

There are definitely symbolic readings people can make here. The internet has made them, naturally, because the internet sees one cursed app and immediately opens a seminar.

Some viewers and critics read Girigo as a metaphor for modern technology amplifying old human ugliness: jealousy, humiliation, revenge, social pressure, and the speed at which harm spreads. Auralcrave frames the curse as a chain reaction of hate, where one act of resentment creates more suffering and then keeps reproducing itself. India Today reads the wish system almost like an offering, with every gain balanced by loss.

And sure. I see why people say that.

But do I personally think the show has some enormous hidden depth that needs to be unlocked with a symbolic crowbar?

Not really. For me, If Wishes Could Kill is a good horror show. That is enough.

I do not need every cursed phone app to represent late capitalism, digital alienation, intergenerational trauma, and the collapse of youth culture under algorithmic despair. Sometimes an app is just cursed. Sometimes teenagers make terrible choices. Sometimes the ghost is angry. Sometimes the phone should simply be thrown into the sea.

That does not mean the show has no themes. Obviously it has themes: jealousy, guilt, betrayal, revenge, consequences, friendship, and the terrible danger of wanting something badly enough that you ignore the cost.

But I did not walk away feeling like the show had deep symbolic layers I would be thinking about for months. I finished it and thought: that was creepy, that was fun, those death scenes were nasty, and the app-shamanism combination worked better than expected.

And then I moved on with my life. That is not an insult. That is actually part of the charm.

What did not stay with me

Here is the thing: I enjoyed the show while I was watching it, but it did not really stay with me afterward.

I remember the feeling more than the details. I remember the kids fighting for their lives. I remember the death scenes freaking me out. I remember the spirit-world section. I remember the hidden person who caused so much of the mess. I remember thinking they had misunderstood the haunting and then realizing the real evil was elsewhere.

But if you asked me to recite every subplot, I would not. My brain kept the vibes and threw out the filing cabinet.

And I think that says something about the show. It is not the kind of horror that burrows into your soul and rearranges your furniture. It is not one of those stories where, two weeks later, you are still staring at the ceiling thinking about the meaning of suffering.

It is more like: you watch it, it keeps you tense, it gives you some strong creepy scenes, and then it politely leaves.

Honestly? Fine by me.

Not everything has to haunt me forever. I have enough tabs open in my brain.

Final thoughts

I think If Wishes Could Kill is one of the better recent horror shows I have watched, especially because it understood how to make technology and supernatural horror work together without becoming laughable. The app curse was creepy. The shamanism thread added texture. The death scenes were genuinely unsettling. The helplessness of the characters made the horror feel immediate. And the mystery had enough movement to keep me watching.

Was it a masterpiece? No. Was it secretly profound? Not to me. Was it effective horror? Yes.

And sometimes that is exactly what I want. Not homework. Not symbolism wearing a trench coat. Just a cursed app, terrified teenagers, a few bloody scenes that make me regret watching at night, and a story that knows how to keep moving.

So yes, I liked If Wishes Could Kill.

It did not change my life. It did not follow me around emotionally. But while it had me, it had me.

And for horror, that counts.

Watch on WeTV ↗ Watch the official trailer ↗

I watched Pursuit of Jade not long ago, and the first thing I thought was: what is up with the fru-fru girl?

Nope. Fan Changyu is anything but.

She is not a fainting flower. Not your basic D.I.D.—damsel in distress. Not someone whose entire personality is looking beautiful while men make decisions around her.

Fan Changyu is a butcher’s daughter: headstrong, practical, fierce, and fully capable of throwing hands when needed.

And before anyone points at the title, no, I did not hate the entire drama. I hated what parts of it did to my nervous system. There is a difference. I loved enough of it to watch all 40 episodes and yell at it out loud, which is honestly a very sincere form of engagement in this house.

The story follows Changyu, played by Tian Xiwei, and the mysterious Xie Zheng, played by Zhang Linghe. She is an orphan trying to protect her household and care for her younger sister. He is a fallen marquis hiding his identity while seeking justice for an old blood feud. Their lives collide during a snowstorm, and they enter a false marriage that eventually grows into something much deeper—with war, revenge, politics, and a lot of emotional damage naturally joining the party.

That is the plot in a nutshell. WeTV lists it as a 40-episode historical romance, following the butcher’s daughter and fallen noble from fake marriage into war, separation, and a shared fight for justice.

But plot alone is not why this drama worked for me.

1. Fan Changyu

Tian Xiwei as Fan Changyu is such a serious winner.

I loved that she was not written as “strong” in that fake way where the drama keeps telling us she is strong but then she still needs rescuing every 11 minutes. She is physically strong, emotionally stubborn, deeply loyal, and beautifully reliable. She is messy, loud, brave, practical, and tender without the show trying to make her smaller.

Also, I cannot move on from this: she carried Zhang Linghe on her back.

This is a man who stands around 6’3“, and Tian Xiwei is nowhere near his height. Philstar reported that she carried him for several steps and that Zhang Linghe said she was the first female co-star who had managed it.

I do not care how many takes, support tricks, camera angles, or pieces of drama magic were involved. My respect went up immediately.

Whoa. Tiny butcher queen energy.

2. The chemistry between everyone

The chemistry between Fan Changyu and Xie Zheng was obviously central, but what surprised me was how much chemistry Fan Changyu had with everyone.

Her sister. The neighbours. The goons. The Pig Squad. Even the bad guy. She had this way of pulling energy out of every scene. Some leads only work when they are with the romantic partner. Fan Changyu worked with the whole world around her.

That early town and neighbourhood arc was one of my favourite parts of the drama. It had warmth, absurdity, local chaos, and that specific feeling of people constantly getting into each other’s business while also somehow becoming family. The Pig Squad’s timing made so many scenes funnier than they had any right to be.

And Zhang Linghe was excellent here too. He looked lean, cool, controlled, and slightly allergic to normal domestic life, which was perfect. Xie Zheng has that mysterious-marquis energy, but the drama wisely lets him be awkward and funny too. His timing with Fan Changyu and the townspeople worked so well because he was not just standing there looking tall and tragic.

He was reacting. He was adjusting. He was suffering through butcher-house life with his dignity barely intact.

Why it was such an easy hit

I can see why Pursuit of Jade got so much attention. It was not just “pretty people in costume,” though yes, there was plenty of that and yes, I LOVE that.

It had a strong hook: fake marriage, hidden identity, revenge, class contrast, political danger, war, and a female lead who does not wait politely for the plot to happen to her.

It also found a huge audience. The Straits Times reported that the series reached a popularity index of 30,000 on Tencent Video and became the first Chinese title to reach number five on Netflix’s global weekly non-English Top 10, remaining there for four consecutive weeks.

And honestly, the popularity makes sense. The casting was strong. The pacing moved well from neighbourhood comedy into bigger war and political stakes. The visual world looked polished without feeling completely empty. The action had enough weight. The side characters had flavour. The show knew when to be funny and when to turn the knife.

Also, Fan Changyu becoming a warrior with her butcher’s knife? Yes. Obviously yes. Encore!

What did not work for me

Now, let me complain. The romantic uncertainty nearly took me out.

I know that for many viewers, the “will they or won’t they, are they together, are they separated, are they doomed, are they married but not emotionally married, are they emotionally married but politically doomed” thing is the whole attraction.

I get it. Slow burn is a legitimate art form.

But after a certain point, the uncertainty started giving me anxiety. Not cute anxiety. Not “oh, my heart” anxiety. More like: if these two do not get one peaceful conversation soon, I may personally enter the drama and file paperwork.

There is tension, and then there is making me feel like I need blood-pressure medication to continue watching.

And then there was the romance issue.

Listen. I know Chinese dramas have tighter censorship boundaries than Hollywood. I know we are not getting full HBO behaviour here. I am not asking for scandal.

But come on.

The main leads had so much chemistry, and the romantic payoff felt so restrained that at times I was like: can we at least get crumbs with butter?

The second lead couple sometimes had clearer, sexier romantic moments than the actual main couple. That felt unfair. I sat through war, politics, longing, fake marriage, emotional repression, and tall-man suffering.

I deserved a little more romance tax refund.

The other thing I did not love was the unnecessary hint that one of the Pig Squad had feelings for her. I did not need that. Their group dynamic was already good: loyal, chaotic, funny, protective, warm. Adding one-sided romantic feelings felt like extra seasoning on a dish that was already working.

Not everything needs a love angle. Sometimes friendship can just be friendship. Let the Pig Squad be emotionally useful without romantic complications, please and thank you.

The ex-fiancé, though? Deliciously hateable

What I did love was watching her ex-fiancé get humbled at every turn.

That man was so resentful and petty that every scene with him made me want to hiss like a kettle. The actor did such a good job making him feel bitter, entitled, and almost Joffrey Baratheon-adjacent in spirit. Not the same character, obviously, but that same “ugh, please let karma arrive with a chair” energy.

And the drama kept giving him lessons. Wonderful. Therapeutic. Five stars for every humiliation.

Final thoughts

For me, Pursuit of Jade worked because it had a female lead I could actually root for, a male lead who balanced coolness with awkward timing, a strong supporting cast, and a story that knew how to mix street-level chaos with bigger political stakes.

Was it perfect? No. The main romance could have given more. The uncertainty dragged too long for my nervous system. Some side romantic tension was unnecessary.

But the drama had enough charm, chemistry, humour, action, and emotional pull that I kept watching.

Mostly, I stayed for Fan Changyu.

Badass butcher’s daughter. Sister protector. Accidental chaos magnet. Tiny woman carrying a giant man. A female lead who did not need to be softened into usefulness.

So yes, I enjoyed Pursuit of Jade. I also hated it a little. I hated the uncertainty, the withholding, and how often it made me shout at the screen. But I shouted because I cared what happened next.

That is the kind of heroine I want more of.

“Put your shoes on.”
“Eat your food.”
“Stop crying.”
“Come here now.”
“Because I said so.”

And if the child does not listen, the adult escalates. Louder voice. Sharper tone. Bigger threat. More control. The whole thing becomes less about the shoes or the food or the crying, and more about who is going to win.

I hate that. Not because children should run the house like tiny landlords with sticky fingers, but because I do not think a child’s mind grows well inside constant power struggle. A child who is always commanded is not being taught to think. They are being taught to submit, resist, or sneak.

And yes, sometimes children need firm instructions. “Do not run into the road” is not the moment for a democratic committee meeting. Safety is safety. But most of daily parenting is not road-running emergency. Most of it is ordinary life: clothes, food, bath, homework, bedtime, transitions, cleaning up, leaving the house. And in those ordinary moments, giving a child a small choice can change the whole temperature of the room.

Not unlimited choice. Not “Would Your Majesty like bedtime today or next Thursday?” I mean bounded choice.

“Do you want the red shirt or the blue one?”
“Do you want to brush teeth before pyjamas or after?”
“Do you want to walk to the car or hop like a bunny?”
“Do you want to clean the blocks first or the books first?”

The adult still holds the boundary. The child gets some agency inside it.

This is not weak parenting. This is parenting with fewer unnecessary wars.

Limits Without Emotional Suffocation

And the research actually supports that idea.

Self-Determination Theory, one of the major frameworks in motivation research, describes three basic psychological needs: autonomy, competence, and relatedness. Autonomy does not mean “do whatever you want.” It means feeling that your actions have some personal ownership instead of feeling pressured, controlled, or pushed around. When those needs are supported, people tend to show more motivation, well-being, and engagement. When they are thwarted, motivation and well-being can suffer.

That makes sense to me. Nobody flourishes by feeling powerless all the time. Not adults. Not children. Not me. Definitely not me before breakfast.

A large 2024 meta-analysis of 238 samples across cultures found that parental autonomy support was positively linked with child well-being, while psychological control was linked with child ill-being. The important part is that these were distinct patterns: supporting autonomy was beneficial even when the researchers accounted for psychological control, and psychological control was harmful even when they accounted for autonomy support.

So the message is not “children need no limits.” The message is:

Limits do not need to come with emotional suffocation.

A child can be guided without being crushed.

This is where I think many parents get stuck. We confuse obedience with success. A child who obeys quickly looks easier. The adult feels effective. The house looks under control. But quick obedience is not the same as healthy development. Sometimes obedience means trust. Sometimes it means fear. Sometimes it means the child has learned that their feelings, preferences, and internal signals do not matter.

And sometimes the child does not obey at all, because being constantly commanded makes them fight harder for the tiny scraps of control they can still find.

That is not just my dramatic parenting philosophy talking. Research on adolescent defiance, using both psychological reactance theory and Self-Determination Theory, found across four studies that controlling parenting was associated with autonomy-need frustration and reactance—basically that pressured, do not control me feeling. Reactance, in turn, was related to more internalizing and externalizing problems.

In normal-person language: when people feel their freedom is being taken away, they often push back. Children and teenagers are not broken for doing this. They are human.

Sometimes No Is the Beginning of Selfhood

Even toddlers show that resistance is not always “bad behaviour.” A Child Development study of one-year-olds and young two-year-olds found that mothers’ supportive behaviour predicted willing compliance. But active resistance in these very young children was also associated with things linked to maternal competence, including supportive behaviour and autonomy-granting control. The researchers argued that early resistance can reflect children’s motivation to control events, not simply poor parenting or a bad parent-child relationship.

That part matters so much. A child saying no is not always disrespect. Sometimes it is the beginning of selfhood.

Of course, selfhood can be extremely annoying when you are late and the selfhood refuses socks. I am not pretending this is always cute. Sometimes it is very much not cute. Sometimes you offer two choices and the child invents a third illegal option.

“Red shirt or blue shirt?”

“No shirt.”

Thank you, small lawyer.

But even then, the answer does not have to be domination. It can be: “Shirt is not optional. Red or blue?” Calm. Boring. Repeated. Boundary stays. Power struggle does not get fed.

Choice Can Make Cooperation Easier

There is also direct evidence that choice can help children cooperate. A small 1994 Journal of Applied Behavior Analysis experiment gave three elementary students with emotional and behavioural challenges choices among academic tasks. In the choice conditions, task engagement increased and disruptive behaviour decreased.

A later meta-analysis of 13 single-case studies involving 30 participants found that providing choice opportunities produced clinically significant reductions in problem behaviour across the studies reviewed. That evidence base was small and largely involved children and young people with disabilities, so it should not be turned into a promise about every child. But it does support a useful possibility: giving someone a meaningful choice can change how trapped a task feels.

This does not mean choice is magic pixie dust. It does not mean every child will melt into cooperation because you said “blue cup or green cup?” Some children will still yell. Some days will still be garbage. Some nervous systems are on fire, and no cup colour can fix that.

But choice can reduce the feeling of being cornered. And a child who is not cornered has a better chance of cooperating.

The same thing applies to adults, by the way. This is not some “children these days” softness. Adults hate being controlled too. Try telling an adult, “You must do this now because I said so,” and see how peaceful your evening becomes. We understand autonomy perfectly when it is ours. Somehow when it is a child’s autonomy, we call it attitude.

The Scripts We Inherited

I think part of this is inherited. Many of us were raised in homes where commands were normal and questioning was treated like rebellion. You did not ask why. You did not negotiate. You did not have preferences. You were “good” if you were easy for adults.

Then we grow up, become parents, and suddenly a child’s normal resistance can feel like disrespect. Not because the child is doing something monstrous, but because something old inside us hears:

I was not allowed to say no. Why are you?

That is where the cycle starts.

Research does show some intergenerational continuity in parenting. A 1991 study of 451 two-parent families found that grandparents’ aggressive parenting predicted parents’ harsh parenting practices in the next generation. Another study found reported continuity in authoritarian and permissive parenting styles across generations, even though current parents described themselves as less authoritarian than their own parents.

So no, it is not imaginary. The way we were parented can become the way we parent, unless we stop and examine the script.

And sometimes stopping is hard because command-based parenting feels efficient. It gives the adult a sense of control. But control is not the same as connection. Control is not the same as teaching. Control is not the same as raising a child who can make decisions, understand consequences, and trust their own mind.

Power struggle makes children wither. Not always dramatically. Sometimes quietly. They may become very compliant and lose practice making decisions, or become oppositional because fighting is the only way they can feel like a person. Neither is flourishing.

Choice, when done well, does something different. It says:

I am still the adult. I will keep you safe. I will hold the boundary. But you are also a person inside this boundary.

That is nourishing.

It gives children practice choosing. Practice feeling capable. Practice having preferences. Practice making small decisions before life hands them big ones. It teaches them that their voice matters without teaching them that their voice is the only voice in the room.

Bounded Choice, Not Tiny-CEO Parenting

And this is where we have to be sensible: too much choice can overwhelm some people in some situations. In a famous set of experiments, Iyengar and Lepper found that people were sometimes more likely to act—and felt more satisfied with what they chose—when offered a limited set of options rather than a huge one.

So the goal is not to hand a child 47 options and then wonder why they are crying under the table. The goal is bounded, meaningful choice.

Two options. Maybe three. Both acceptable to the adult. Both safe. Both real.

Not: “What do you want for dinner?” when the answer could be Skittles and floor dust.
Better: “Do you want rice first or chicken first?”

Not: “Do you want to go to school?” because no, probably not, and also too bad.
Better: “Do you want to wear your boots or sneakers today?”

Not: “Are you ready for bed?” because this is a trap and they will say no.
Better: “Do you want to pick the book or should I pick?”

This is not permissive parenting. This is not letting the child become the CEO of the household. This is structure with dignity.

And honestly, that is the whole point for me.

I do not want to raise a child who only knows how to obey commands. I want to raise a child who can think. Who can choose. Who can hear a boundary without feeling erased. Who can cooperate without needing to be dominated. Who can respect others without losing himself.

Children do not become strong by being made powerless every day. They become strong by being guided, respected, corrected, trusted, and given chances to practise being a person.

So no, giving choices is not weak parenting.

Sometimes it is the strongest thing we can do: refusing to turn every ordinary moment into a battle just because battle is what we were taught.

Boundaries matter. Safety matters. Respect matters.

But so does the child’s sense of agency.

Because a child is not a remote control where you press buttons until the behaviour changes. A child is a growing human being. And growing humans do not flourish under constant command.

They flourish when they are rooted, guided, and given enough room to stretch toward the sun.

Not unlimited room. Not unsafe room.

Just enough to grow.

View Faded on Topicals ↗ View Topicals Faded on Amazon.ca (affiliate link) ↗

Affiliate disclosure: The Amazon.ca link is an affiliate link. If you buy through it, I may earn a commission at no extra cost to you. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases.

I am going to say something deeply glamorous: I drool when I sleep.

Not cute princess drool. Not one delicate drop at the corner of the mouth. I mean I drool like a troll who has given up on dignity.

And over time, I noticed that the skin from my chin to around my mouth had become darker than the rest of my face. For a long time, I just thought, okay, this area looks dull. Maybe it needs more scrubbing. Maybe it is dry. Maybe I need more hydration. Maybe my face has simply decided to create its own shadow beard.

Lovely.

Saliva really can irritate skin. DermNet’s explanation of lip-licker’s dermatitis describes how repeated saliva contact and the constant wet-dry cycle can disrupt the skin barrier, cause inflammation, and sometimes leave post-inflammatory hyperpigmentation.

That page is about lip-licking; it is not a diagnosis of my chin, and I am not diagnosing myself from the internet. But the mechanism gave me a plausible explanation for why my nightly troll activities might not be completely innocent.

How Topicals entered the chat

This whole Topicals thing started because I went to Sephora with my mother-in-law. She has pigmentation around her cheek that had started to look almost like a deep birthmark. I do not know exactly what caused it, so I do not want to diagnose her face like I am a dermatologist wearing a Sephora basket.

But she has spent years around kitchen heat, Bangladesh heat, sun, and pollution, and it made sense to look for something that targeted hyperpigmentation. Heat and light are not completely random guesses here either: Cleveland Clinic explains that ultraviolet, visible, and infrared—or heat—radiation can contribute to melasma and make it worse.

That does not mean my mother-in-law’s pigmentation was melasma. It only means heat and light can matter in some pigment conditions, which is one more reason not to diagnose a dark patch by standing under Sephora lighting and squinting at it.

We approached the Sephora helper person, explained the pigmentation situation, and she guided us toward Topicals Faded. She said customers rated it highly and that they recommended it too.

The product itself is marketed as Faded Brightening + Clearing Serum for dark spots and discoloration—not technically an ointment, but in my head it is “that pigmentation ointment thing” because that is how my brain files skincare. Topicals says it is intended to visibly even skin tone and texture and reduce the look of dark spots, post-breakout marks, and scars. Its highlighted ingredients include tranexamic acid, niacinamide, azelaic acid, kojic acid, and melatonin.

My mother-in-law tried it first. A few days later, she said she could already see her spot becoming lighter.

That got my attention because, listen, I am easily influenced by visible results in my own house. Influencer who? My mother-in-law’s cheek review was enough.

So the next time I went, I picked up a tube too.

What changed for me

I have now been using it for more than a month, but only on my chin and mouth area. My routine is otherwise still my routine: CeraVe cleanser, Medicube serum, all the usual things. I am not putting this all over my face like a glazed-donut experiment. I use it specifically where the drool damage and darkness are.

And yes, I can see a difference.

Not an astonishing “Fair & Lovely ad from the early 2000s where someone becomes three shades lighter and suddenly gets a job, husband, and personality” difference.

Absolutely not. We are not doing that nonsense.

But my chin area is definitely less dark than before. It looks closer to the colour of my cheeks. It no longer looks like it needs a brutal scrub, two layers of foundation, and a hydration ceremony just to behave like the rest of my face.

That is the real win for me. Not perfection. Just less mismatch.

I also like that it does not feel like a fake instant-brightening product. Post-inflammatory hyperpigmentation can take time. DermNet explains that these darker patches can develop where skin was previously inflamed or injured and may become darker with sun exposure. It lists topical options including azelaic acid, kojic acid, niacinamide, and others, while noting that results vary and combinations are often needed for significant improvement.

So my expectations are realistic. I am not expecting one tube to erase my history of sleeping like a leaky goblin. But if consistent use makes the chin-to-mouth area calmer, lighter, and less “why is this part of your face a different chapter?” then I am happy.

Skin is not a dirty pan

One important thing: this is still an active skincare product. Topicals’ current directions say to apply it after cleansing, follow daytime use with SPF, patch-test before use, and avoid layering it directly with AHAs, BHAs, or retinoids.

I think that matters because when something works, it is tempting to start using it aggressively.

But skin is not a dirty pan. More scrubbing and more actives do not always mean better results.

Topicals Faded has been good for me. Not magic. Not overnight. Not dramatic. But good.

My mother-in-law saw improvement in her cheek pigmentation, and I saw improvement on my drool-troll chin. That is enough for me to keep using it.

If you are dealing with stubborn uneven pigmentation and are patient enough to use something consistently, I think this is worth considering—with realistic expectations, gentle use, and sunscreen. And if you do not know what caused the pigmentation, it is sensible to ask a healthcare professional rather than letting a skincare aisle and an internet search diagnose your face.

For me, it did exactly what I wanted: it made the darker area less obvious and helped my chin look more like it belongs to the same face.

And honestly, for a product fighting years of sleep drool, that is respectable work.

Today I want to talk about this.

My son’s gymnastics session went horribly today. Not because he suddenly stopped liking gymnastics. Not because he is a difficult child. Not because he went there intending to disrupt a class. It went horribly because the people who knew how to communicate with him are gone, and the support system that made gymnastics work for him did not follow him when the staff changed.

Over time, his previous coaches and I had worked through trial and error to figure out how to make gymnastics work for him. Eventually, we discovered something incredibly simple: draw him a map of the gym and give him a checklist. That’s it. Show him where he is going. Show him what comes next. Let him check things off as he goes.

With that little piece of paper, he can move through the gym, do the activities, and enjoy himself. The coaches spend less time redirecting him. He knows what is expected of him and, more importantly, he knows what the session is going to look like. It is such a small thing—just a piece of paper—but with it, everything becomes easier. Without it, especially when the people around him are unfamiliar, he can become lost in the environment.

Today, all of his familiar coaches were gone. The coaches working with his group now are new. They do not know him, and as far as I can tell, they did not know that he is autistic or that we had already established strategies that worked for him. When he went inside the gym, nobody approached him with his map. So he went back to his default mode.

He ran around.

To someone who does not know him, I understand what that might look like. Here is a six-year-old who is not staying with the group and not following verbal instructions. A coach’s instinct may be to tell him to stop, repeat the rules, become firmer when that does not work, and assume he is choosing not to listen. But this is exactly why people who work with children need at least some understanding of neurodivergence. More verbal instruction is not necessarily the solution for a child who is not processing verbal instruction.

For my son, we already knew the solution.

Show him.

I do not know exactly what happened next, and that is important for me to say. I do not want to accuse anyone of saying something when I was not close enough to hear the conversation. I saw two coaches trying to communicate with him.

Then my son started crying.

Not frustrated whining. Not “I don’t want to do this” complaining. Crying. Inconsolable crying. My son does not easily cry in public these days. He is growing up and knows he can choose how he reacts to things. But he is still a child, and there are times when he will be hurt and cry. This was that. Once he started, I could not get him back into the session.

Later, he told me that someone had said, “Boys are not allowed in the gym.” He kept repeating that he was not allowed because he was not a girl.

I do not know the context. I do not know whether those exact words were said, whether he misunderstood something, or whether an adult was trying to communicate a completely different rule and that was what he managed to process. But I do want to know, because whatever happened in that interaction, my six-year-old walked away believing he was not allowed to be there.

And that matters.

Once it became obvious gymnastics was not happening anymore, I tried to take him home. That did not work either. Going home early was not the plan. Gymnastics was supposed to end at a particular time, and his brain had prepared for gymnastics to end at that time. So we were stuck in this horrible middle ground where he could not cope with being in the gym, but he also could not cope with unexpectedly leaving it.

We stayed.

There was a lot of talking. A lot of reassurance that he was safe with Mum. A lot of breathing. Eventually, he calmed down. I spoke with Ms. Tiffany while we were there, and she was extremely understanding. Honestly, her understanding helped us get through what had become a really difficult situation.

But my son is now anxious about going back.

And that is what hurts.

The previous coaches and I worked hard to get here. Gymnastics was not automatically easy for him. We had to understand what was not working, try different things, and eventually figure out how to give him enough structure that he could participate independently.

And then something wonderful happened.

He started enjoying it. The gym became familiar. The coaches became familiar. The map made sense. He knew what happened there. It became one of his safe places.

Today felt like watching some of that work unravel in a single session. Maybe not permanently. I hope very much that it is not permanent. But when your child leaves something he previously loved and is already anxious about returning, it is difficult not to feel that something has been lost.

Maybe that is also why today hit me so hard. He is six. His classroom changed. His teachers changed. His classmates changed. His gymnastics coaches changed. There is a new baby in the family. These might sound like ordinary life changes to an adult. To him, that is an enormous amount of his predictable world changing at once.

And my little boy has been trying.

He is trying to understand his new classroom, new adults, new children, new expectations, and a day that does not always behave the way he expected it to.

I cannot remove change from his life. Nor do I want to. But I do expect the adults responsible for children to understand that not every child’s brain processes change, language, and instruction the same way.

This is the part I keep coming back to. I do not expect teenage or young adult gymnastics coaches to be autism specialists. I do not expect them to diagnose children, provide therapy, or magically know exactly what every individual child needs.

But if you coach children, you will coach neurodivergent children.

Some will have diagnoses their parents have disclosed. Some will not. Some parents may not know yet. Some children will have ADHD, autism, language-processing differences, anxiety, sensory sensitivities, developmental disabilities, or other needs.

Basic training should not be extraordinary.

What does an overwhelmed child look like? What is the difference between “won’t” and “can’t right now”? What do you do when repeating an instruction more loudly is not working? How can you use visual instructions? How do you redirect without shaming? What do you do when a child becomes distressed? And maybe most importantly: when something is not working, can you become curious before you become angry?

Because sometimes the difference between a child who appears “difficult” and a child who participates beautifully is a hand-drawn map and a checklist.

I know that because I have watched it happen.

This is something children’s programs sometimes get wrong. Inclusion is not simply: we accept neurodivergent children.

That is admission.

Actual inclusion requires some capacity to support the child once he gets inside.

For my son, that does not require another staff member following him around. It does not require an elaborate individualized program. It requires a few accommodations we already know work: a visual plan, clear and concrete instructions, showing rather than endlessly telling, patience when his response does not look like another child’s response, and an adult who understands that running around because you do not know what is happening is different from deliberately trying to ruin a class.

Once he understands what is expected, he is actually quite easy to coach. That is what makes today particularly frustrating. We already did the hard part. We figured out what works.

The knowledge simply did not follow him when the staff changed.

I have asked myself all day whether I should have given every new coach a guide.

Maybe.

Not because I think what happened today was my son’s fault, or because parents should be solely responsible for teaching children’s programs how to accommodate neurodivergent children. But because I know my child better than anyone there. If one sheet of paper saying THIS IS HOW ISAAC WORKS BEST can prevent another day like today, I will make the sheet.

I will laminate the damn thing.

I will make ten.

Because ultimately, I am less interested in deciding whose responsibility it should have been than I am in making sure my six-year-old does not go through this again. But I also want the organization to meet us halfway. I want his support information to survive a staffing change. I want a new coach to know, before things go wrong, that the child running around is not necessarily refusing to participate. And I want coaches working with children to have enough basic neurodiversity awareness to stop and think:

Maybe I need to communicate this differently.

That is where we are tonight.

A place that had become safe suddenly does not feel quite as safe. Tomorrow, I will start helping him rebuild that. We will draw the map again. We will talk about what happened. We will figure out who his coaches are. We will make the unknown known. And hopefully, gymnastics will become gymnastics again.

But I do not want today’s lesson to be only for my son.

The adults can learn something from it too.

Neurodivergent children are not difficult children who need firmer instructions. Sometimes they are children being given instructions in a form they cannot use. Change the communication, and you may change the child you think you are dealing with.

My son taught us that a long time ago.

I just wish everyone coaching him had been given the chance to learn it too.

View the Triple Collagen Serum on Amazon.ca (affiliate link) ↗ View the PDRN Pink Collagen Capsule Cream on Amazon.ca (affiliate link) ↗

I have been using the Medicube Triple Collagen Serum 4.0 for more than two months now, and for just under a month I have also been using the Medicube PDRN Pink Collagen Capsule Cream. Together, they have quietly become the last two steps of my nighttime skincare routine.

Let’s start with the serum, because I have been using that long enough to know I genuinely like it.

The Triple Collagen Serum

There is no particularly elegant way to describe the texture. It is a slightly cloudy, slippery, viscous serum with a certain… biological-fluid quality to it.

There. That’s as politely as I can put it.

Fortunately, once it is actually on my face, I don’t care what it reminds me of coming out of the bottle. It spreads very easily and leaves my skin feeling noticeably hydrated. Medicube calls this its Triple Collagen Serum because the formula contains multiple forms of collagen, including hydrolyzed collagen, atelocollagen and soluble collagen. Its full ingredient list also includes glycerin, niacinamide and several forms of hyaluronic acid. Medicube markets it for hydration, elasticity and a plumper, smoother-looking complexion.

I can’t tell you whether one particular form of collagen is responsible for what I see in the mirror, nor am I going to pretend I can separate what every ingredient is doing to my face. What I can judge after more than two months is the thing that matters most to me: my skin feels really hydrated when I use it.

Initially, I had a slightly unconventional routine with it. I would apply the serum and then put one of my reusable silicone face masks over it. The silicone traps moisture and also creates some warmth and sweat underneath. When I removed it, my skin felt ridiculously soft and hydrated.

I’m not claiming the heat somehow activated the serum or made the collagen magically penetrate my face. I just know that the combination of serum + occlusion worked really well for how my skin felt.

Then I found the pink cream

The PDRN Pink Collagen Capsule Cream looks exactly like the sort of skincare product the internet would convince me to buy. It is a clear gel filled with little pink capsules that you mix together before putting it on your face. The slightly confusing part is that there isn’t one required capsule-to-gel ratio. Medicube actually intends it to be customizable: use more gel if you want something lighter and more capsule if you want a richer application.

I considered this information carefully and then chose the least complicated solution possible.

I mixed the entire jar together.

All the capsules. All the gel. Whatever ratio Medicube decided to put in the container is apparently my ratio now, and fortunately it works perfectly well for me.

The cream has quite an ingredient list. There is glycerin, niacinamide, squalane, PDRN listed as sodium DNA, hydrolyzed collagen, ceramide NP, peptides, glutathione and several forms of hyaluronic acid. Medicube positions it around hydration, firmness, radiance and uneven-looking skin tone. The company also reports some fairly dramatic study numbers—including a 102.4% increase in hydration immediately after application, a 33% improvement in elasticity after two weeks and changes in uneven tone after two weeks—but those are Medicube’s own reported clinical-test results, and individual results obviously aren’t guaranteed.

My review is considerably less dramatic:

It keeps my skin feeling really, really nice overnight.

And that is enough for me.

It actually replaced part of my routine. This is probably the most useful thing the pink cream has done. Once I started applying it over the Triple Collagen Serum, I stopped using the silicone mask. I didn’t make a conscious decision that the mask is now obsolete. I just didn’t feel the need for it anymore. The serum gives me that hydrated base and the cream sits over everything as a richer final layer. I go to sleep with it on and wake up with my skin still feeling incredibly soft and moisturized.

My nighttime routine now is pretty straightforward: I wash my face with my green CeraVe cleanser for sensitive skin, use my Topicals treatment on the areas where I have uneven tone—particularly around my mouth—then apply the Medicube Triple Collagen Serum over my face and finish with the pink capsule cream.

Then I go to bed.

By morning, I can still feel the softness in my skin.

That’s ultimately why both products have stayed.

But are they actually doing anything beyond hydration?

This is where I try to be careful with skincare reviews. It is very easy to read an ingredient list containing collagen, peptides, PDRN, niacinamide, ceramides and hyaluronic acid and start attributing every change in your face to one fashionable ingredient. I can’t do that. I have used the serum for more than two months, which is long enough for me to have a fairly good idea of whether I enjoy using it. I’ve used the cream for less than a month, so I’m even less interested in making dramatic long-term claims about what it has done.

What I can confidently say is that the combination works extremely well for hydration on my skin. The ingredient lists make that result quite plausible. Both products contain glycerin and multiple moisturizing or conditioning ingredients; the serum contains several forms of hyaluronic acid, while the cream adds ingredients including squalane and ceramide NP alongside its own hyaluronic-acid ingredients.

That is much more tangible to me than trying to decide whether my skin has become 17% more youthful-looking.

It feels hydrated. It feels soft. It still feels that way the next morning. And I actually enjoy using the products enough to keep using them. But that does not mean I never get the occasional pimple. I still do, and apparently they too benefit from the superhydration.

Texture, performance and value

If I had to compare them simply, the serum wins on proven staying power in my routine. I’ve been using it for over two months and haven’t lost interest in it. That’s usually a pretty good sign with skincare.

The texture is weird. I stand by that. But it spreads beautifully and my skin likes it, so weird is allowed.

The pink cream hasn’t been around long enough for me to give it the same long-term endorsement, but it has probably made the bigger immediate difference to my routine because it replaced the silicone-mask step entirely. I also like being able to put it on and essentially forget about everything until morning.

Neither product needs to perform miracles for me to consider it worthwhile. That’s actually something I’m learning about how I judge skincare. I don’t particularly care whether the marketing tells me something will give me glass skin, reverse the passage of time, or make my face radiate visible light.

I care about three questions:

• Do I like putting this on my face?
• Does my skin feel better when I use it?
• Do I notice when I don’t use it?

For the Triple Collagen Serum, after more than two months, the answer is yes. For the pink cream, less than a month in, it is looking very much like yes too.

And considering my previous routine involved deliberately attaching a sheet of silicone to my face before bed, the fact that these two little pink products have made things simpler is probably the strongest endorsement I can give them.

Skin note: This is my personal experience, not dermatological advice. Skin can respond differently to the same product. Patch-test if you are sensitive, and stop using a product if it causes ongoing irritation.

I don’t remember exactly when my son started watching Numberblocks. I also don’t remember the first Numberblocks toy we bought him. That feels a little like trying to remember the first raindrop in a flood.

Because we are no longer in the my child likes Numberblocks stage. We are in the Numberblocks has taken over our lives stage.

There are Numberblocks toys in the living room. Workbooks. Board games. Plushies. “Action figures”—and yes, I am calling them action figures because these little blocks have more personality than some adults I know. We have multiple copies of some toys because apparently one set of numbers wasn’t enough. We needed backup numbers, emergency numbers, duplicate numbers, and possibly numbers in witness protection.

Open the storage box in our living room and it looks less like a child’s toy bin and more like Numberland had a housing crisis and everyone moved in with us.

And somehow, it didn’t stop with toys.

Then came the cakes

We have now had Numberblocks birthday cakes too. Numberblock 1 was made by Cakes and More here in Cornwall. Numberblock 2 and Numberblock 4 were made by me at home and looked… let’s just say, very homemade. Numberblock 5 went back to the professionals. And most recently, there was the big Numberblock 6 cake for his sixth birthday.

We somehow skipped Numberblock 3 along the way, which my son has noticed. I have now promised to make him one before December. So yes. There is currently a contractual Numberblock 3 cake obligation hanging over my head.

But somewhere between the toys, cakes, books, and little plastic numbers invading every corner of our house, I realized something. This interest has actually done an enormous amount for him.

Numberblocks made maths something he could touch

That’s probably the biggest thing Numberblocks did. Numbers stopped being symbols written on paper. They got bodies. Faces. Colours. Personalities. Songs. And because the characters themselves are physically made from blocks, mathematical ideas suddenly became things my son could see and build.

Take Blockzilla. Greater than and less than don’t have to begin as < and > on a worksheet. Put two Numberblocks on either side and one side goes down while the other goes up. One is bigger. One is smaller. You can see it. You can move it. You can understand why.

And honestly, I know some adults who could still benefit from Blockzilla.

The blocks unexpectedly helped with something else

My son used to struggle with Lego. The pieces were small. Clicking them together was frustrating. And when the thing in his head didn’t become the thing in his hands, frustration usually won.

MathLink-style Numberblocks cubes gave him another way in. Now there was a reason to connect the pieces. Build Five. Break Five apart. Build Ten. Make a square. Make a cube. Take it apart and make something else. Without us deliberately turning it into an exercise, he was practising the same fine-motor skills that had previously frustrated him.

And then the maths grew with him. He understands what 3³ means because he can physically build a three-by-three-by-three cube and see it. He understands the concept of a power.

He is six.

That still blows my mind a little.

Even the “action figures” have a job

The solid Numberblocks figures probably look like the least educational things we own. They’re little plastic characters. What could they possibly be teaching?

For my son, quite a lot.

Each Numberblock has a personality. One isn’t Two. Five isn’t Six. Even characters representing the same number can behave completely differently—Octoblock and Octonaughty are both Eight, but they certainly aren’t the same person. That similar-but-different idea has been surprisingly useful.

The figures let him become different characters and act out conversations. Someone says something unexpected. Another character reacts. The story changes. He has to adjust. We can practise situations through play without announcing: HELLO CHILD. WE WILL NOW PRACTISE SOCIAL SKILLS.

Numberblock 5 gets upset. Numberblock 6 says something unexpected. Numberblock 3 gets dramatic. And suddenly we’re practising conversation, turn-taking, emotions, flexibility, and responding to things that didn’t follow the script. There have been situations where he has handled a new conversation better because some version of it has already happened in Numberland.

It’s play, but sometimes it’s rehearsal too.

And then Numberblocks apparently opened more departments

Our collection is now ridiculous enough that it probably deserves its own customs declaration. There are Friends figures from One through Twenty. MathLink sets from 1–10, 11–20, 21–30, and 31–40. Heroes with Zeroes. Sheep Farm. Race to Pattern Palace. Workbooks. Plushies. The backpack.

Then came the Rainbow Counting Bus. And the Numberblocks Five Sensory Bottles.

Because apparently Numberblocks wasn’t satisfied with occupying the toy box and bookshelf. It needed transportation and the sensory department too.

The Rainbow Counting Bus turns counting into movement and pretend play. Numbers get on. Numbers get off. They travel somewhere. A maths toy becomes a story. The sensory bottles are something completely different: colours, movement, patterns, and predictable little visual details to watch.

At this point, Numberblocks has taken over all ministries.

The collection is ridiculous. I also don’t regret it.

Do we have everything? No. Does it feel like we have everything? Absolutely. Does my son still know exactly which things we don’t have? Unfortunately, yes.

And this is how they get you.

But I can’t even be properly annoyed about it. Because yes, I have spent more money on block-shaped creatures than I ever imagined I would. Yes, there are little numbers everywhere. Yes, I now have strong opinions about whether Numberblock 5 is the correct shade of blue.

But I have also watched my son build, count, compare, create, problem-solve, role-play, and communicate through this world. I’ve watched things that frustrated him become things he enjoys. I’ve watched abstract ideas become physical things he can hold in his hands. And I’ve watched characters from a children’s programme become tools he uses to understand conversations and people.

That’s the part that gets me. Sometimes a show isn’t just a show. Sometimes an interest becomes a bridge.

For my son, Numberblocks became a bridge into maths, motor skills, pretend play, conversation, and confidence. So yes, Numberblocks has taken over our lives. There is a giant storage box in the living room to prove it. There are duplicate toys to prove it. There have been six years’ worth of Numberblocks cakes—minus the conspicuously absent Numberblock 3, whose debt I apparently need to settle before December.

But I don’t really think of it as just an obsession anymore. It’s his interest. It’s one of his languages. It’s a learning tool. It’s his little Numberland.

We just happen to live there too.

A very real superfan disclaimer

This is not sponsored, gifted, or paid advertising. No brand asked us to write this. We bought these toys, books, and app subscriptions ourselves because my son is a genuine Numberblocks superfan. At this point, we even pay for the Numberblocks World and Numberblocks Hide and Seek apps. My opinions stay mine, and the links are here because these are things in our collection.

Exact Numberblocks products mentioned

MathLink Cubes 1–10 (affiliate link) ↗ MathLink Cubes 11–20 (affiliate link) ↗ MathLink Cubes 21–30 (affiliate link) ↗ MathLink Cubes 31–40 (affiliate link) ↗ Heroes with Zeroes (affiliate link) ↗ Sheep Farm (affiliate link) ↗ Rainbow Counting Bus (affiliate link) ↗ One to Five Sensory Bottles (affiliate link) ↗

Affiliate disclosure: The Amazon.ca links are affiliate links. If you buy through one, I may earn a commission at no extra cost to you. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases.

Anyway, I was surprised to see that our local store had a much bigger collection of graphic novels and manga than I expected. I had seen big manga sections at Imaginaire in Rideau Mall, Ottawa, but I did not expect this much variety locally.

They had The Apothecary Diaries, which I am currently reading. Not only the manga, but also the light novel. My husband saw the graphic novels and immediately said, “Let’s get them,” like a supportive husband in a bookstore should.

Very sweet.

Very dangerous.

Because unbeknownst to him, I cannot read graphic novels.

And I do not mean I dislike them in a casual “not my thing” way. I mean my brain looks at a comic page and says, sorry, what language is this?

This has always been a thing for me. I do not know whether it is a neurodivergent thing, a visual-processing thing, an attention thing, or just a very specific “me and my brain doing nonsense again” thing. But it is real.

Comics and manga are visually distracting for me. Between the characters, backgrounds, speech bubbles, action lines, sound effects, panel order, and all the artwork hullabaloo, I lose the meaning of the words. I spend so much effort locating the next piece of text that by the time I find it, I have lost what I just read. Then I have to go back, then forward, then guess which bubble belongs to whom, and soon my brain is tired, my comprehension is gone, and a headache is forming like it has been personally invited.

Light novels, on the other hand, are fine. Beautiful, even. Just words. One line after another. My eyes know where to go. My brain can stay with the story.

The same story in animation is also fine because the sequence is handled for me. The show moves forward. I do not have to decode the page structure like I am solving a visual escape room.

This is not me saying I hate artwork. I love illustrated books. I love art. I love animation. I can enjoy beautiful visuals. But illustrated books usually keep the text and image in a relationship my brain understands: here is the sentence, here is the picture, thank you very much, everyone stay in your lane.

Comic-style pages feel different. Multiple images per page, dialogue floating around, no single obvious reading path, monochrome panels, visual density — suddenly reading becomes labour.

And this has been consistent across everything I have tried. Tintin. Calvin and Hobbes. Peanuts. Marvel. DC. X-Men. Superman. Spider-Man. Even manga like Mushoku Tensei. I always prefer the animated version or the light novel.

It is not even about taste. It is about whether I can actually understand the content without my brain overheating.

It feels like one of those weird facts about me, like how I feel I can hear better when I take my glasses off. Just a small line in the user manual:

Cannot read comic strips. Hearing improves when vision is blurred. Handle gently.

So I wanted to know: is this completely absurd, or is this a known thing?

Turns out, it is not absurd.

Comics are not just books with pictures

Comics require a different kind of reading. A plain-text novel is mostly linear: line to line, paragraph to paragraph, page to page. A comic or manga asks the brain to decode words, images, spatial layout, sequence, speaker attribution, emotion, action, and often sound effects at the same time.

Researchers who study comics describe visual narratives as having structure — almost like a grammar — where panels have roles in the larger sequence, not just meanings on their own. Cognitive scientist Neil Cohn’s work on visual narrative grammar and comic-page layout argues that understanding sequential images involves narrative structure, page layout, and attentional framing working together.

That made me feel very seen, because yes. That is exactly the problem. My brain is not simply reading words with helpful pictures beside them. It is being asked to read a whole visual grammar.

And apparently, I am not fluent.

There is also research suggesting that experience matters. In an electrophysiology study of visual narrative processing, people who had frequently read manga while growing up processed a manga-common narrative pattern differently from less frequent manga readers. The infrequent readers showed a larger brain response associated with devoting more resources to mental updating.

That is exactly what it feels like. I am not relaxed-reading. I am constantly updating.

Who is speaking? Which panel came first? Is this sound effect part of the action? Did I accidentally skip a bubble? Why is there a tiny text box in the corner? Where did that character come from? Why am I on page three and already tired?

When the page becomes admin work

This is where cognitive load gives me a useful way to think about the problem. Cognitive load is the mental effort required to process information, and working memory can only hold and manipulate so much at once.

Classic split-attention research by Paul Chandler and John Sweller found that learning can become harder when people must keep switching between separated but mutually dependent sources of information — such as text and diagrams — and mentally integrate them.

That study was about instructional materials, not manga. It does not prove that comic pages are badly designed or that every person who finds them tiring is experiencing the same cognitive process. But the framework makes sense of my experience: sometimes pictures help, and sometimes the format asks me to do so much locating, switching, sequencing, and integrating that the story stops feeling like a story and starts feeling like admin work.

And listen. I already have enough admin work.

It also explains why illustrated books are fine for me. The illustration supports the story, but it does not usually demand that I decode sequence, dialogue order, and spatial relationships all at once. A light novel gives me the whole story in a clean line. Animation gives me the sequence, movement, sound, and timing without making me assemble the page myself.

Comics and manga ask me to do more of the assembly work manually, and my brain apparently did not sign that contract.

Is this a neurodivergent thing?

Maybe. Maybe partly.

But I want to be careful here, because I do not want to slap an autism/ADHD sticker on every single brain quirk and call it science. There is no neat evidence saying, “Autistic people cannot read comics” or “ADHD people get headaches from manga.” Many autistic and ADHD people love comics, manga, graphic novels, visual storytelling, and complex art. Some probably find comics easier than prose.

Brains are not IKEA furniture; one label does not tell you how the whole thing is assembled.

What we can say is that sensory-processing differences are very real in autism. The National Autistic Society’s guide to sensory processing explains that autistic people can be much more or less sensitive to sensory input, that the pattern can vary by person and situation, and that visually crowded or cluttered environments can be overwhelming for some people.

Research also suggests that audiovisual multisensory integration — the brain’s use of auditory and visual information together — can differ in autism on average. A systematic review and meta-analysis found an average group difference, but also substantial variation across studies and effects that differed with factors such as age and the type of stimulus.

So for me, it is plausible that visual density, layout uncertainty, attention, and sensory processing all add up to overload. But I would not call it a rule for neurodivergent people. I would call it a pattern in me that happens to make sense through the lenses of sensory processing, attention, and cognitive load.

The glasses thing fits somewhere nearby too, but again, carefully.

I am not saying my glasses objectively turn my ears down like a volume knob. That would be very dramatic, even for me. But I do feel like I hear better when I take my glasses off. My guess is that sharp visual input takes up more of my attention, and when the world becomes visually softer, my brain has less detail to process and can attend to sound more easily.

The broader science supports the general idea that hearing and seeing are not completely separate departments. The original McGurk and MacDonald experiment showed that mismatched lip movements can change what people report hearing. Separate experimental work on speech in noise has found that adults can use visual speech cues to improve detection and discrimination of spoken sounds.

That does not prove my glasses theory.

But it does prove the general point: the senses talk to each other. Sometimes they cooperate. Sometimes they interfere. Sometimes they form a committee and ruin my ability to enjoy Spider-Man in comic form.

Choose the format that lets the story reach you

So do I need a cure?

Honestly, no.

This is not a tragedy. It is not a moral failing. It is not an emergency. I do not need to become a graphic-novel person to be a complete human being. I can read the light novel. I can watch the anime. I can enjoy the artwork separately. I can admire manga as a medium while also admitting that my brain treats the page like an overdecorated wedding invitation with too many fonts.

If I really wanted to train myself, maybe I could try reading comics slowly, using a digital panel-by-panel mode, enlarging pages, reading colour versions instead of dense black-and-white ones, or starting with simpler layouts. Familiarity may help, because visual-narrative fluency appears to matter.

But do I need to force it?

Not really.

Sometimes the answer is not “fix the brain.”

Sometimes the answer is “choose the format that lets the story reach me.”

And that is what light novels do. They give me the same story without making me fight the page. Animation gives me the visual world without making me decode the panel grammar. Illustrated books give me art without turning reading into a Where’s Waldo of dialogue bubbles.

So this is now officially one of my fun facts.

I can hear better when I take my glasses off.

I cannot read comic strips.

Thank you for reading, acknowledging, and understanding my plight.

Because honestly?

That little sachet has saved me more times than I can count.

This is not sponsored. I have not been paid, gifted the medication, or influenced to write this in any way. I am thanking the people who made Monurol genuinely, from the bottom of my heart, because their work is why I no longer have to suffer through UTIs the way I once did.

If you have never had recurring UTIs, this may sound dramatic. If you have had them, you already know. There is a very specific panic that starts when you feel that first tiny warning sign. The burning. The pressure. The oh no, not this again. Your whole body knows before your brain even finishes the sentence.

For me, that fear comes from years of suffering. During my undergraduate years, I had UTIs so often and so badly that at one point I genuinely thought I might die if one reached my kidneys. I do not know what would have happened without treatment. I do know the fear was real, and kidney infections can become serious.

It took months of antibiotics before the cycle finally stopped. The doctors left no stone unturned. They tested me for what felt like every possible bacterium that could have set up illegal housing in my urinary tract.

And yes, there were factors in my own life. Hygiene. Lack of proper guidance. Not knowing the right way to clean. Cultural silence. Body shame. No one really sitting me down and explaining how easily bacteria can travel, especially when you have a short urethra. All of it together. One big disaster package with burning urination as the subscription gift.

That does not mean a UTI is proof that someone is dirty. It is not a cleanliness report card. Anatomy, sex, bladder emptying, hormones, health conditions, hydration, and other factors can all affect risk. The Government of Canada’s urinary-health guide explains some of those factors and recommends medical assessment when UTI symptoms appear.

Eventually, the long-running infection cycle stopped. But even after that, I was still left with random bouts of UTI. It commonly happened if I had diarrhea and my butt-washing situation was not perfectly managed, or if I had sex the night before. Sex was a huge trigger. So were other things I would never have thought to connect to UTIs until life personally educated me, rudely and repeatedly.

The doctor who understood the pattern

Then one day, a doctor who was subbing for my family doctor actually understood my plight. She was a woman, and she got it right away. No long lecture. No dismissive face. No “are you sure?” energy. She understood the pattern, prescribed me Monurol, and told me how to use it when I felt an uncomplicated UTI coming on.

Thank you, Dr. Panesar.

I mean that sincerely.

Because since then, it has been about three years, and I have not suffered through a UTI for more than a day. Three years. After years and years of pain, panic, burning, peeing tiny amounts every five minutes, and mentally preparing my last words because my bladder decided to become a war zone.

This is not me telling people to self-prescribe antibiotics or treat every urinary symptom with a random sachet. Please do not go feral with antibiotics. Burning, urgency, and pelvic discomfort can have causes other than a bacterial bladder infection. This is me talking about a prescription medication and an individualized plan given to me by a doctor who understood my history of recurrent uncomplicated bladder infections.

And what a plan.

One sachet. One drink. Done.

For me.

That last part matters. My prescription is not somebody else’s diagnosis or treatment plan.

What Monurol actually is

Monurol is fosfomycin tromethamine, a prescription antibiotic. Health Canada’s Drug Product Database currently lists it as a marketed oral powder for solution under DIN 02240335, with each single-dose sachet containing the equivalent of 3 g of fosfomycin.

The Canadian indication is specific. According to the current Monurol product monograph, it is authorized for acute uncomplicated lower urinary tract infection — acute cystitis — in women 18 and older when caused by susceptible E. coli or Enterococcus faecalis. It is not indicated for a kidney infection, pyelonephritis, or a perinephric abscess.

That matters because people often say “UTI” like it is one single thing. It is not. A bladder infection and a kidney infection are not the same level of problem. Fever, chills, significant flank or back pain, vomiting, or feeling systemically unwell are not casual “let me drink the sachet and see” symptoms. They need prompt medical assessment. Pregnancy, recurrent infections, symptoms that are unusual for you, or symptoms that do not improve also deserve professional guidance.

Monurol is a bladder-focused antibiotic, not a magic potion for every infection anywhere in the urinary tract.

But for what it is meant to do?

I love it.

The science of it is actually fascinating. Fosfomycin kills susceptible bacteria by interfering with an early step in bacterial cell-wall construction. The monograph says the drug is not metabolized; part of the dose is eliminated unchanged in the urine, where concentrations remain measurable for roughly three days after a single dose. That is why “single dose” does not mean “works for only a few hours.”

The patient information says improvement or complete relief is generally expected within two to three days. If symptoms have not improved by the fourth day, or infections keep returning, contact the prescriber. That part is important because when you are burning and miserable, one day can feel like fourteen business years.

The monograph also explains that bladder irritation can remain briefly even after the antibiotic has started killing bacteria. Waking up the next morning with symptoms does not automatically prove the medication failed. But worsening symptoms, red flags, or no improvement are reasons to get medical advice rather than improvising.

Even bladder fairy dust has boundaries

The Canadian instructions say to dissolve the entire sachet in about 125 mL — half a cup — of cold water, stir, and drink it immediately. It is recommended on an empty stomach or at least two to three hours after eating. Do not swallow the powder dry. I am including that to explain how this strange little prescription works, not to prescribe it to anyone reading this. Follow the directions from your own prescriber, pharmacist, and medication leaflet.

And do not just take another sachet the next day because you are annoyed the burning has not vanished yet. The monograph says repeated daily doses did not improve clinical success or bacterial eradication compared with the single dose, but they did increase adverse effects.

See? Even my beloved bladder sachet has boundaries.

It also has possible side effects. The patient information lists things including abdominal discomfort, nausea, diarrhea, dizziness, headache, rash, and vaginal infection. Serious allergic reactions and C. difficile-associated diarrhea are among the serious warnings. Monurol contains sucrose and flavourings with sulphites, and the monograph tells people to discuss kidney problems, hemodialysis, pregnancy, breastfeeding, allergies, and other medicines with a healthcare professional before taking it. This is not an exhaustive list; the current Canadian patient information is included near the end of the product monograph.

For me, the beauty of Monurol is not just that it works. It is that it interrupted the fear cycle. Before, the first sign of UTI felt like the beginning of a long punishment. I knew the suffering that could come next. I knew the spiralling. I knew the urgency, the pain, the constant bathroom trips, the anxiety of “is this going up to my kidneys?” I knew the mental exhaustion of having to convince people that no, this is not just a little inconvenience.

Now, because of the plan my doctor gave me, I do not feel helpless in the same way. I still take it seriously. I still know when symptoms are beyond uncomplicated cystitis and need medical attention. I still respect antibiotics and the fact that resistance exists. But I also have something that works for me when the familiar early signs show up.

And after years of suffering, that feels huge.

So yes, thank you to whoever came up with Monurol. Thank you to the people who figured out that one sachet could concentrate in the urine and keep working. Thank you to the researchers, pharmacists, physicians, and everyone involved in making this tiny powder packet exist.

But mostly, thank you to Dr. Panesar, who listened, understood the pattern, and gave me a practical solution instead of making me feel dramatic about my own bladder.

Because I had suffered enough.

And sometimes healthcare does not need to be poetic. Sometimes it is just one doctor who gets it, one prescription that makes sense, and one little sachet that stops a familiar nightmare from becoming a whole week of pain.

Monurol, you are expensive little orange-mandarin-tasting bladder fairy dust.

And I remain grateful.

Not just a tiny “oh, that could be interesting” idea. It felt like a whole article had arrived. I remember knowing it was about a personal experience. I remember feeling deeply about it. I remember thinking of related things, connections, examples, little side-roads my brain wanted to walk down. It had weight. It had emotion. It had that very annoying glow of yes, this is something I need to write.

And then morning came.

Gone.

Not completely gone in the peaceful way, where you wake up and think, eh, probably wasn’t that important. No. This was worse. I could still feel the shape of it. I knew there had been something there. I knew it mattered to me. I knew I had a lot to say.

But the actual idea? Nowhere to be found.

The more I tried to remember, the more it slipped away. I would get close to a corner of it, and then even that corner would dissolve. It was like trying to hold fog in my fist.

The annoying part is that this is not the first time. A lot of my writing ideas come right when I am about to sleep. Stories, articles, reflections, jokes, titles, arguments, emotional observations — all of them apparently have a secret meeting time, and that time is when I am least able to do anything about it.

During the day? I can sit with a blank page like a dumbass. At night, when I am half gone, trapped under exhaustion, maybe putting my son to sleep, suddenly my brain becomes a TED Talk with feelings.

There is a name for this in-between state: hypnagogia. It is the transition between wakefulness and sleep, when you are not fully awake but not fully asleep yet. Research on sleep onset suggests that this early stage of sleep can sometimes be unusually good for creative connections. In one study of insight into a hidden problem-solving rule, participants who spent a brief period in N1 sleep — that drowsy sleep-onset zone — were more likely to discover the rule than participants who stayed awake. That does not prove every bedtime idea is a work of genius, but I do feel personally vindicated.

Which makes sense to me. At bedtime, the world finally shuts up a little. There are fewer demands. Fewer messages. Fewer chores staring at me with judgmental eyes. My brain is no longer spending all its energy on logistics, work, masking, remembering who needs what. So of course the ideas come then.

The daytime brain is tired AF, while the bedtime brain is like a poet with no respect for office hours.

But here is the catch: that same sleepiness that makes the idea appear also makes it terrible at being saved. Sleep-onset experiences can be vivid and meaningful, but memory around sleep onset can be fragile. In a study of memory loss at sleep onset, even very light N1 sleep was associated with forgetting on a memory task. The researchers were not studying writers losing article ideas, but the finding makes my morning vanishing act feel less mysterious.

So basically, the brain says:

Here is a beautiful idea.

Then immediately:

Would be a shame if someone failed to encode it into long-term memory.

Thank you, brain. Excellent teamwork.

I have tried to fight this. I do sometimes write things down. I have my Samsung Galaxy S23 and the S Pen, which should theoretically make me a very advanced modern woman with a proper capture system. Sometimes I open my notes app and write one line. Not a full article. Not even a proper paragraph. Just enough to leave a breadcrumb for morning-me.

Something like: birthday / unseen child / treasure box or panic / Dobby / checklist.

Ugly little half-asleep notes that look like they were written by a kindergartener.

And when I do this, it helps. Morning-me does not need the whole article. Morning-me just needs enough hint to grab the whole idea. But I do not — sorry, cannot — always do it.

Because sometimes the idea arrives when I am trying to put my son to sleep. And if you have ever tried to put a child to sleep, you know there is a sacred, terrifying moment when they are almost there. Almost asleep. Breathing slows down. Body softens. You can see the finish line.

That is not the moment to suddenly become Shakespeare with a phone.

One wrong movement, one screen glow, one S Pen click, one tiny shift in mattress pressure, and the whole bedtime operation may reset. So I think, I’ll write it down after he sleeps.

Guess what? That doesn’t happen.

After he sleeps, I am either asleep too, half-dead, or convinced I will definitely remember it because it felt so important. But by morning, the idea is gone, and all that remains is the emotional fingerprint. I know it was personal. I know it mattered. I know I had things to say. But the thing itself escaped me by morning.

I also wonder whether this is connected to neurodivergence, though I want to be careful here. I do not want to slap an ADHD/autism sticker on every brain annoyance and call it science. Research reviews on autism and ADHD describe sleep and circadian differences, though much of that research focuses on children and adolescents. It certainly does not prove “autistic women get article ideas at bedtime and lose them by morning.” That would be a very specific study, and sadly nobody has yet given me a grant to investigate my own midnight nonsense.

Still, personally, it makes sense that my brain gets louder when the world gets quieter. When the sensory load drops, when the demands pause, when I am no longer actively performing the day, ideas finally get room to come forward. The problem is that they come forward at the exact time my memory is packing up for the night.

So now I am trying to make the system smaller.

Not “write the article.” Not “draft the whole thing.” Not “capture the perfect sentence.”

Just a few words. One ugly line. A title. Anything. Anything small enough that I do not need to fully wake up, but specific enough that morning-me has a rope to pull.

Because “I’ll remember this tomorrow” is not a plan. It is bedtime propaganda.

And maybe some ideas are just lost. Maybe they come from that soft borderland between waking and dreaming, and not all of them are meant to survive daylight. That sounds poetic, but also deeply irritating. I would prefer poetry with autosave.

A tiny note on hypnagogia

The word hypnagogia sounds like something only sleep scientists and haunted Victorian poets should be saying, but it simply refers to the drowsy transition into sleep. Hypnagogic means something that happens in “the period of drowsiness immediately preceding sleep.” The word comes from Greek roots: hypnos, meaning sleep, and agōgos, meaning leading or bringing on — so basically, leading into sleep. Very fancy way of saying: the doorway where your brain starts taking off its daytime bra. Merriam-Webster traces the word’s meaning and roots.

Everyone who falls asleep passes through some version of this doorway, but not everyone notices dramatic ideas, images, sounds, or sensations there. Some people may only feel sleepy and gone. Others may get flashes of images, strange thoughts, snippets of sound, falling sensations, or fully formed little creative gifts that vanish like they were never legally yours. Some sensory experiences at sleep onset are called hypnagogic hallucinations; having a passing idea is not the same thing. Cleveland Clinic says these brief experiences are common and usually not something to worry about. They can be visual, physical, or auditory.

So no, having thoughts or images in that half-asleep state does not automatically mean something is wrong. It is often just the brain crossing from waking mode into sleep mode. The annoying part is that this state can be creative and slippery at the same time. Harvard Medicine Magazine describes hypnagogia as a possible “sweet spot” for creativity, and artists, writers, and scientists have long been interested in that in-between place where the brain makes unusual connections.

But there is a difference between hypnagogia and a problem. If the experiences are frequent, frightening, affecting sleep, happening when you are fully awake, or coming with major daytime sleepiness or sleep paralysis, then it is worth mentioning to a healthcare provider. But for the occasional “I had the most brilliant idea at midnight and by morning it had escaped with no forwarding address” situation? That may simply be hypnagogia doing what hypnagogia does: opening the creative door right when memory is packing up for the night.

I have always thought that the hardest part of achieving a goal is consistency.

Starting something can be easy. You decide you are going to stretch every day, exercise, drink more water, brush your teeth before bed, take your vitamins, or whatever new self-improvement assignment your brain has downloaded this month.

Day one comes with intention. Maybe even excitement. Then you do it again. And again. Eventually, you have done it for 10 days, then 30, maybe 100. Somewhere along the way, it stops feeling like something you are trying to do and starts feeling like something you do.

Then comes one day.

You are tired. You are busy. Something happened. Your brain presents a very reasonable argument: what will happen if I don’t do it just this once?

And logically? Probably nothing. One missed stretch will not undo months of stretching. One missed workout will not erase your fitness. If you did something for 100 days and skipped day 101, you were still consistent 99% of the time.

Excellent. Beautiful. Mathematically very mature.

Except that is not how it works for me.

For me, after a pause or any form of interruption, restarting is always difficult. Not sometimes. Always. A sick day, a busy evening, travel, a weekend, a schedule change, one strange day where the routine does not happen—and suddenly the task goes from “thing I do” to “thing I now have to restart.”

And apparently restarting is a completely different mountain wearing the same hat.

This is where I went looking for research, expecting it to nod politely and say, yes, that makes sense. Instead, one of the best-known real-world habit-formation studies annoyed me personally.

The study followed 96 volunteers who chose an eating, drinking, or activity behaviour and tried to perform it daily in the same context for 12 weeks. The researchers measured automaticity—basically, how much the behaviour started happening with less conscious effort. Among participants whose habit-formation curves could be modelled, the estimated time to reach 95% of their eventual automaticity ranged from 18 to 254 days.

Huge variation. Fair enough.

But then came the line that stared directly into my soul: missing one opportunity did not materially affect habit formation.

Excuse me?

To be clear, I do not think the data is wrong. That is not the point. The study tells us what happened on average, in a particular sample, with particular behaviours, over a particular period.

But it does make me ask: why am I an outlier in this data?

If missing one opportunity should not materially affect habit formation, why does one interruption so often become the doorway through which my entire habit quietly escapes?

Maybe the issue is that we use the word consistency too broadly. Habit research talks about repeated behaviour in stable contexts gradually becoming more automatic; habits are not literally streak counters, and one missed day does not magically erase all the repetition before it.

But my problem is not always maintaining the behaviour while the routine is intact. My problem is returning after the routine has been interrupted.

Those are not the same skill.

Continuing a moving train is one thing. Restarting the train after it has stopped in the middle of nowhere with no announcement from the driver? Completely different nonsense.

Naturally, I wondered whether this was an AuDHD thing. It would be very easy to build a satisfying explanation using all the familiar words: ADHD, executive dysfunction, autistic inertia, dopamine, monotropism, all-or-nothing thinking. Throw them into a bowl, add a little internet confidence, and suddenly I have a theory that feels correct.

But a satisfying explanation is not automatically an evidence-based one.

A 2026 scoping review on routines and habits in people with ADHD found that the research is still limited: only 31 studies met the criteria, 27 focused on children, and the main areas studied were sleep, feeding, physical activity, and sedentary behaviour. The review also found no validated assessment specifically designed to measure routines or habits in people with ADHD.

So yes, ADHD can clearly affect routines and daily functioning. But I cannot honestly claim, “ADHD people lose habits when they miss one day.” The research does not let me say that.

Autism makes the question even more complicated. One recognized autistic pattern is insistence on sameness, which can involve inflexible adherence to routines, distress at small changes, difficulty with transitions, and rigid thinking.

So should routine be easier for autistic people? Maybe in some ways.

But having a strong need for routine is not the same as being good at deliberately creating, maintaining, and restarting whatever healthy routine you choose. Those are different things.

I may become very comfortable with every night I do X because the predictability removes the decision. Tonight is an X night. Tomorrow is an X night. Every night is an X night.

But when something interrupts it, tomorrow is no longer just another repetition. Tomorrow contains a decision: are we doing X again?

And decisions are where routines go to get mugged.

This is why the 80% rule makes sense to me mathematically and still sometimes fails me practically. If I stretch six days this week instead of seven, that is good. If I exercise 24 days out of 30, that is excellent. My body does not throw the successful days into the garbage because I missed one.

But the problem for me is not the missed 20%. The problem is what happens afterward.

Some people seem able to say, Didn’t do it Tuesday. Anyway, Wednesday… and continue.

For me, Tuesday can become a hole in the road.

Maybe consistency is not one skill. Maybe it is at least three: starting, maintaining, and returning.

Can I begin the behaviour? Can I keep repeating it? Can I resume it after life interrupts it?

I have treated those as one ability for years, but maybe they are not. Maybe someone can be good at maintaining and terrible at returning. That would explain a lot about me, honestly. I can keep some things going surprisingly well—until I stop. Then beginning again feels harder than continuing ever did.

So maybe the useful question is not, how do I become someone who never misses a day?

That sounds exhausting and also fake. Life will interrupt every routine eventually. Illness, work, travel, children, exhaustion, random chaos, general life. A system that only works when nothing interrupts it is not resilient.

Maybe the real skill I need is not perfect consistency. Maybe it is boring recovery.

Miss day 101, and day 102 is not a dramatic moral event. No guilt. No punishment. No restarting the whole counter. No waiting until Monday.

Just: oh. We are doing this again.

I do not have a neat conclusion yet, which is partly why I am writing this. I am curious where other people fall on this.

If you have done something consistently for months and then miss one day, is the next day simply another day? Or do you recognize this weird transition where stopping once somehow makes stopping again dramatically easier?

And if you are autistic, ADHD, both, or neither—does that change your experience?

Because the data does not say I am wrong. It just makes me wonder why I am sitting in the weird corner of the graph, waving politely, unable to restart after one missed day like a normal software update.

Today was my son’s sixth birthday party, and I am fairly sure I was more anxious about it than he was.

My son has a summer birthday, which means he never really got the birthday-at-school experience. We also had not held a proper birthday party for him before.

Earlier this year, one of his friends had a birthday party at Cornwall Gymnastics Club, and my son was completely fascinated. Not mildly interested. Not “that looks fun, Mum.” He wanted that birthday party.

He kept coming back to me with the same very formal, very heartbreaking request: “Mum, I request you please…”

How exactly was I supposed to say no to that? So I booked the place. In spring. For September. Yes, spring.

That should tell you everything about the level of planning, anxiety, and quiet spreadsheet-in-my-head madness that followed.

I went all in. Numberblock 6 became the theme because, obviously, he was turning six. I made and printed Numberblock 6 invitations. I made reminder slips. I sent things to school twice. I coordinated with his teachers so the invitations actually reached parents. I chased RSVPs. I counted children, recounted children, planned food, drinks, decorations, goody bags, balloons, disposable plates, parent drinks, and all the other tiny things my brain convinced me were absolutely essential to civilization.

And then there was the cake. Good Lord, the cake.

I ordered a custom Numberblock 6 cake from Fairy Sweet Bakery here in Cornwall. It was not cheap. It was very much a “please be worth it, please be worth it” kind of cake.

More about that cake later.

After months of planning and worrying about every possible little thing, this morning there was nothing left to plan.

It was party day.

My son and I arrived and waited for the party room to become available. Then one friend arrived. Then another. We still did not have the room yet, so I started blowing up colourful balloons for the kids while we waited.

And somewhere between balloon one and balloon three, I realized: oh. The party has already started.

No cake out. No decorations perfectly arranged. No food table. We were not even in the room I had spent months planning for.

Just a few colourful balloons and a few very excited six-year-olds. Apparently, that was enough.

As more friends arrived, my son became happier and happier. He was literally jumping up and down. Every child seemed to arrive carrying something for him, but honestly, I do not think he cared about the presents at that point.

They had come. His friends were there. That was the present. Then came the part I was not prepared for.

I had assumed I would need to be with him during the gym portion of the party. Not hovering exactly, but nearby. Checking. Helping. Making sure he was okay.

Instead, he did not need me. At all.

He went into the gym with his friends and had the absolute time of his life. I checked on him now and then, of course, but every time I looked, he was fine.

More than fine.

He was playing, running, laughing, socializing, and completely absorbed in being one of the kids.

Meanwhile, I had become unnecessary.

So I went back to welcoming parents and setting up the party room: food, drinks, decorations, goody bags, all the little things I had convinced myself were the backbone of the event. And every now and then, I looked into the gym and saw a side of my son I had not really seen before.

He was just having fun with his friends. No Mum required. I do not know how to properly explain how big that felt.

Eventually, gym time ended and everyone came into the party room for food and cake. I had mentally prepared myself for the next challenge: how am I going to get a room full of excited six-year-olds to sit down?

Apparently the answer was: ask them once. I told them to grab a seat, and they did. All of them. These were six-year-old kids. I stood there wondering what witchcraft had just occurred.

Then I went to bring out the cake, and before I even properly showed it to them, several little voices started saying, “It’s going to be Numberblock 6!”

They knew. Of course they knew. They knew their friend.

Then the cake came out, and Fairy Sweet Bakery absolutely nailed it. Not vaguely Numberblock-ish. Not “close enough.” It was exactly the kind of Numberblock 6 cake my son had imagined.

Watching his face, and then watching his friends lose their minds over it, made every dollar I had winced about spending feel completely irrelevant.

They sang Happy Birthday. He had that enormous grin on his face, and I thought: okay, this was worth it. Every bit of it.

Then came my favourite moment of the entire party.

While I was cutting the cake, one of the other parents looked at the group of children happily talking to each other and asked whether they were all in the same class.

I actually did not know the answer. They had been together last year and the year before, but their classes had been rearranged this year.

I did not even get the chance to explain. The kids answered, more or less in unison:

“No, we’re not.”

And then:

“But we are all friends.”

That was it. That was the whole party for me.

Not the decorations. Not the invitations. Not the reminder slips I obsessed over. Not even the world-class Numberblock 6 cake.

“But we are all friends.”

Six-year-olds. Sometimes they really do reduce things to what actually matters.

The rest of the party went almost suspiciously smoothly. They ate. They talked. They laughed. They waited while my son opened his presents because they wanted to see his reaction to the things they had chosen for him.

And then everyone went home.

Now, as I am writing this, my son is sitting in front of me playing with his new toys.

But when we got home, he also made himself a treasure box. Into it went the cards and pictures his friends had made for him. Not the wrapping paper. Not the packaging.

The things they made for him went into the treasure box.

I spent months thinking about this party. I worried about whether people would come, whether the kids would have fun, whether my son would cope with everything, whether the food would work, whether I had forgotten something, whether all of this planning was excessive.

And then today happened.

His friends came. They played with him. They screamed over his Numberblock cake. They sang Happy Birthday to him. They brought him presents and handmade pictures. They sat around a table eating and chatting. They informed the adults that no, they are not all in the same class anymore, but they are all friends.

That is what all the planning was for: that giant grin on my son’s face.

A huge thank you to Cornwall Gymnastics Club for giving these kids a place to jump, tumble, play, and apparently manage themselves much better than I expected a group of six-year-olds to manage themselves. The gym time followed by the party room was exactly the right setup for them.

And an enormous thank you to Fairy Sweet Bakery for the perfect Numberblock 6 cake. You made exactly what I had hoped for, and watching a table full of little Numberblocks fans recognize it immediately was priceless.

But mostly, thank you to those kids, and to the parents who brought them.

You probably came to a six-year-old’s birthday party, watched your child run around a gymnastics club, ate some pizza and cake, and went home. You probably have no idea what it meant to us that you came.

My son does. The pictures you made him are in his treasure box, and tonight, he is still smiling.

Tagged: Cornwall Gymnastics Club and Fairy Sweet Bakery

Then my six-year-old asked me what 20/20 actually means. And I realized I had absolutely no idea.

I am not an eye professional. I am not even sure what the correct word for an eye professional is without stopping to think about whether I mean an optometrist or an ophthalmologist. I am also very, very far removed from biological sciences. So naturally, when my child asked a simple question, I went down a rabbit hole until I understood it well enough to explain it to him.

This happens a lot in our house. My son wants to understand everything. And I’ve found that simply explaining something verbally isn’t always the best way to get a new concept through to him. He loves visual information. Cells at Work! was a particularly successful example—the anime turned cells and the immune system into characters with jobs and stories, and suddenly something enormously complicated had a structure he could follow.

So lately, when he asks me about something unfamiliar, I’ve been trying to turn the answer into something he can see.

And 20/20 vision is actually surprisingly easy to visualize once you understand what those two 20s are doing.

First: 20/20 does NOT mean “perfect eyes”

This was probably my biggest misconception.

Having 20/20 vision doesn’t mean your eyes are perfect. It means you have what is considered normal distance visual acuity—essentially, normal sharpness or clarity of vision at the testing distance. The American Optometric Association makes this distinction directly: 20/20 describes distance clarity, not every aspect of vision.

Think about an eye chart. You stand a certain distance away and try to read progressively smaller letters. A traditional Snellen visual-acuity test uses a distance of 20 feet, or roughly 6 metres. (MedlinePlus)

That is where the first 20 comes from.

The easiest way I found to explain it to a six-year-old

Imagine Numberblock One is standing 20 feet away from a sign. The sign has a tiny Numberblock on it.

A person with standard vision should be able to recognize that Numberblock from 20 feet away. If my son can also recognize it while standing 20 feet away: 20/20.

That is really it.

The top number tells us: “How far away are YOU?”

The bottom number basically tells us: “How far away could someone with standard vision be and still see this same detail?”

With 20/20 acuity, you can see at 20 feet what should normally be visible at 20 feet. (American Optometric Association)

And suddenly those mysterious numbers make considerably more sense.

So what is 20/40?

Back to our imaginary Numberblock sign. My son is standing 20 feet away. But this time the picture is blurry.

He can only make it out from 20 feet away even though someone with standard visual acuity could make out that same detail from 40 feet away.

That is 20/40 vision.

So when the bottom number gets bigger, the measured distance acuity is poorer. A person with 20/40 acuity needs to be at 20 feet to resolve detail that someone with standard acuity could resolve at 40 feet. (American Optometric Association)

And 20/15?

Now we reverse it. My son stands at 20 feet and can identify something that a person with standard vision would normally need to move to 15 feet to see as clearly.

That is 20/15. His distance visual acuity is sharper than 20/20. Plenty of people can have distance acuity better than 20/20. (Cleveland Clinic; College of Optometrists)

For a child, I would reduce the whole thing to:

20/20: I can see it from the normal spot.
20/40: I need to be closer.
20/15: I can see tiny details from farther away.

Not a technically complete definition, obviously, but enough to make the idea click before introducing the actual numbers.

But here is the part I found particularly interesting: 20/20 doesn’t test everything your eyes do

This was the other thing I hadn’t really appreciated.

That familiar eye chart is testing how clearly you can distinguish detail at a distance. It isn’t giving your entire visual system a score. Someone can have 20/20 distance acuity and still have problems with other aspects of vision.

A comprehensive eye examination can separately evaluate things such as peripheral vision, depth perception, colour vision, focusing, and how the eyes work together. (American Optometric Association)

That gave me another way to explain it to my son.

Imagine your eyes are a team of superheroes. One superhero’s power is:

“I CAN SEE TINY THINGS FAR AWAY!”

That is the power the 20/20 test is checking.

But the team has other powers. One helps you notice something approaching from the side without turning your head. One helps you judge whether something is near or far away. One helps distinguish colours. And your two eyes have to cooperate so your brain can make sense of what both of them are seeing.

Getting an A+ from Captain See-Tiny-Things-Far-Away doesn’t automatically mean every other member of the team gets an A+ too.

That is why saying someone has “20/20 vision” is useful—but saying they have perfect eyesight goes much further than the measurement actually tells us. The AOA notes that even a child who sees clearly at 20/20 can still have difficulty with focusing, tracking, or eye coordination. (AOA school-aged vision guidance)

And apparently 20 feet isn’t sacred either

This was my final little huh, I didn’t know that discovery.

The concept doesn’t actually depend on America and its insistence on measuring things in feet. The same acuity can be written as 6/6 when testing and recording the distance in metres. Twenty feet is approximately six metres, so 20/20 and 6/6 describe the same standard distance acuity. (MedlinePlus; College of Optometrists)

Which means after all that research, the grand mystery behind “20/20” turned out to be considerably less mysterious than I had imagined.

It is essentially a comparison:

You at 20 feet / standard vision at 20 feet.

And I love questions like this from my son because they expose how many things I “know” without actually knowing them. I knew 20/20 meant good vision. He wanted to know why.

Turns out, those are two very different levels of knowing.

This is a plain-language explanation, not an eye examination or diagnosis. If you are concerned about your child’s vision, an optometrist or ophthalmologist can assess more than distance acuity alone.

View the eye cream on Amazon.ca (affiliate link) ↗

I have been using the Caudalie Resveratrol-Lift Depuffing Eye Cream—the pink-tube one with the metal massager. Not pink eye cream as in conjunctivitis, calm down. Pink tube eye cream.

I got mine from Sephora. I had mentioned collagen eye balm to the person helping me, and she immediately went, “Oh, you like K-beauty stuff,” and pointed me to this one. Now, I am too awkward a person to stand there and ask ten more follow-up questions like a skincare investigator. I basically went, “Okay sure,” took it, paid the bill, and left.

Very brave. Very informed. Fully researched by social anxiety.

For reference, as of September 17, 2026, Sephora Canada lists it as $92 CAD for 15 mL, which is a very bold number for a tiny tube of eye cream. Amazon Canada also has a listing for the same Caudalie Resveratrol-Lift Depuffing Eye Cream with Peptides in the 15 mL size. Sephora and Caudalie Canada describe it as a fragrance-free gel eye cream with pro-collagen multi-peptides, resveratrol, quinoa, hyaluronic acids, and a cooling metal applicator, intended to help with puffiness, firmness, and the appearance of tired under-eyes.

Now, does it work?

For me, yes. But not in a “my under-eyes have been reborn and now pay taxes separately” kind of way. It is good. Not wow. Not drastic. Not magic. But good.

I have been using it every night before bed with my night skincare routine for about a month. And I do see a difference. My under-eye bags look lighter, and that sunken, aged, “years of no sleep have signed a lease under my eyes” look has softened a bit. It did not erase anything overnight. It did not perform witchcraft. But with consistent use, I can see my under-eye area looking a little less tired and less hollow.

The metal applicator earns its place

The metal applicator is one of the things I genuinely like. Sephora’s suggested use says to apply the product around the eye area and use the cooling metal applicator to massage outward under the eyes and below the brows.

I, however, do not waste this product on my fingers because, again, ninety-two Canadian dollars. I squeeze the tiniest amount directly onto my skin—and when I say tiny, I do not even mean pea-sized. Pea-sized is luxury behaviour. I use a chia-seed-sized amount. Then I flip the tube around and use the metal tip to spread and massage it in.

The texture is nice. It works well with the rest of my skincare and does not pill or roll up on me. It also does not have a bad smell or overpowering fragrance. Sephora and Caudalie list it as fragrance-free, and my nose agrees.

No perfume attack near the eyeballs, thank you.

About that slight burning feeling

It has a slight peppermint-like sensation on my skin. Not the minty fresh part. More like the faint burning part. Very light, though. I do not hate it, and part of my brain goes, “Okay, something is happening here.”

To be clear, that sensation is not proof that the product is working. It is simply how it feels on my skin. If it were any stronger, I would stop using it. The under-eye area is not the place to be brave for no reason. This is not a battlefield. This is my face.

In the morning, my skin still feels hydrated. I usually wash my face with cold water only, no cleanser, and I can still feel the softness the cream gives. That part impressed me because some eye creams feel nice for ten minutes and then disappear like my motivation to exercise. This one actually leaves the area feeling moisturized by morning.

Who would I recommend it to?

I would recommend it to someone who does not mind trying a new product and has the budget for it. Especially if you are struggling with tired, sunken under-eyes and want something that may help soften that aged, sleep-deprived look. If your under-eyes have been through years of bad sleep, stress, parenting, life, and general existential crisis, this may help.

But I would not tell someone to run and buy it if the price feels painful. This is not cheap. And for the price, I do think expectations need to be realistic. You are not buying new under-eyes. You are buying a nice, gentle, hydrating eye cream with a metal massager that gave me moderate improvement over time.

So my final verdict is: good product, expensive price, visible but not dramatic results.

I like it. I use it. I conserve it like a wartime ration. I will keep using it because it does make my under-eyes look and feel better. But would I call it life-changing? No.

Would I recommend it if the price is not too much for you? Yes.

Would I still whisper “this better work” every time I apply my chia-seed amount? Also yes.

Skin note: This is my personal experience, not dermatological advice. Skin around the eyes is sensitive. Keep the product out of your eyes and stop using it if it causes ongoing irritation; seek medical help for severe swelling, pain, or vision changes.

View the bottle on Amazon.ca (affiliate link) ↗

I bought my son one of those kawaii two-compartment water bottles recently. I’ll admit, the first thing that got me was how cute it looked. But after actually using it, the cuteness has become almost secondary. The two-compartment design solves a very specific problem we have struggled with: what do you do when your child simply refuses to drink water?

My son is perfectly capable of drinking water. On the days he wants water, there is no problem and he doesn’t need any motivation from me. But there are also days when, for whatever reason, he just does not want it. And if water is the only thing available, he can go far too long without drinking anything.

At home, that is relatively easy to deal with. If I notice he hasn’t been drinking, I can offer him something else. Kool-Aid usually does the trick. At school, though, I am not there to notice, remind him, or switch his drink halfway through the day.

That is where this bottle has been surprisingly useful.

Water when he wants it, another option when he doesn’t

The bottle has two completely separate compartments, so I can send him to school with water in one and Kool-Aid or another drink in the other.

It sounds like such a simple thing, but it changes the situation completely. I am not trying to convince him to drink Kool-Aid instead of water, and I don’t need to put flavoured drinks in his regular water bottle every day. When he wants water, he drinks water.

But on a day when water suddenly becomes a hard no, there is another option sitting right there.

For us, I would much rather he have some Kool-Aid than spend the school day barely drinking anything and come home dehydrated. The second compartment gives him that choice without requiring a teacher to prepare something different or me to be there to intervene.

And I think that is the part of this bottle that other parents with similar kids might appreciate most. Sometimes the best solution isn’t finding another way to convince your child to do something. It is simply making sure there is an acceptable alternative available when they can’t or won’t.

It is also ridiculously cute

The listing calls the design “kawaii,” and that description is pretty accurate. It looks fun and child-friendly without sacrificing the practical part of being a water bottle.

More importantly, my son likes it. With anything I am sending to school specifically to encourage him to drink, that matters.

So far, ours has also been leak-proof, which was one of my bigger concerns with a bottle containing two different liquids. A cute bottle stops being cute very quickly when you open a backpack and discover its contents floating in Kool-Aid.

Thankfully, we haven’t had that problem.

There is one downside: it is bulky

There is a trade-off to having two drinks in one bottle: this thing isn’t particularly slim.

Its shape also means it doesn’t fit properly into the usual water-bottle pocket on my son’s backpack. That is probably my biggest criticism of the design.

We have simply worked around it by putting the bottle in the main centre compartment of his backpack. It has been fine there, especially since we haven’t had issues with leaking.

It also comes with a carrying strap. I initially wasn’t sure how useful that would be, but the strap is actually substantial enough to carry the weight of a full bottle comfortably. It is wide and thick rather than being one of those thin little straps that digs into your shoulder once the bottle is full. So if he wants to carry the bottle separately, he can.

Would I recommend it?

Yes—particularly for parents whose children aren’t consistent drinkers.

I wouldn’t say every child needs a two-compartment bottle. If your kid happily drinks water throughout the day, a normal water bottle is obviously simpler and takes up less space.

But if you have a child like mine, where hydration can sometimes depend on having the right drink available at the right moment, I think this is a genuinely clever solution.

It gives me the ability to send water without making it his only option. He gets some independence over what he drinks, and I get a little more reassurance that a refusal to drink water doesn’t automatically mean a day of barely drinking anything.

It is a little bulky. It won’t fit every backpack’s bottle pocket. But those are fairly minor inconveniences compared with what it solves for us.

Cute, leak-proof, practical, and one of those purchases that turned out to be considerably more useful than I expected.

And yes, it really is very kawaii.

These things can look harmless from the outside—tiny comments, family jokes, culture, tradition, background noise. But children do not always hear background noise as background noise. Sometimes they hear instructions.

At its simplest, a gender stereotype is the habit of using “boy” or “girl” as a shortcut for what a child should like, how they should behave, what they should be good at, and what kind of person they are allowed to become. The UN Human Rights Office’s working definition describes a gender stereotype as a generalized view or preconception about the characteristics people ought to possess or the roles they ought to perform.

For children, that becomes rules: boys are tough, girls are gentle; boys don’t cry, girls aren’t as strong; trucks are for boys, dolls are for girls; boys are better at maths, girls are better at reading; mums care for children, dads earn money.

The problem is not that a girl likes pink or a boy likes trucks. Let the child love pink. Let the child love trucks. Let the child love glittery monster trucks if that is where their tiny heart lives.

The harm begins when adults turn gender into a shortcut for the individual child: “She is a girl, so she probably won’t like this,” or “He is a boy, so he shouldn’t do that.” That is when “boys and girls can be different” quietly becomes “boys and girls have to be different.”

I Do Not Want the World to Shrink Him

This is not theoretical for me. I have a son. I want him to be able to explore and become whatever fits his actual little heart and brain—dancing, ballet, astronomy, music, sports, science, art, whatever. I do not want the world to shrink him before he even gets to find out who he is.

I do not want him to hear “Are you a girl?” as an insult. I do not want him to grow up around “boys are better than girls” or “girls are better than boys” nonsense either. Superiority is not confidence. Inferiority is not humility. Both are useless baggage.

Research suggests children learn these gender rules very early. One longitudinal Child Development study followed 229 children from ages three to five and found that gender-typed behaviour was already visible in preschool, with many of the behaviours measured becoming more rigid—especially between ages three and four.

Another Child Development study followed 246 children at ages four and five. On average, the children reported positive attitudes toward their own gender and negative attitudes toward the other gender, and their attitudes toward the other gender predicted gender-biased behaviour at age five.

So stereotypes do not only tell children, “This is what you should be.” They also tell children, “This is who belongs with you.” That is how “boys and girls are different” can slowly turn into “I should play with children like me,” or “That child does not belong in this game.” Suddenly, gender is not just a category. It becomes a tiny passport system.

A Toy Can Become Permission—or a Warning

That is why “it’s just a toy” is not always just a toy. A doll can offer practice in nurturing, language, imagination, caregiving, and social play. Blocks and construction toys can offer practice in spatial reasoning, planning, and problem-solving. Art toys invite creativity and fine motor skills. Outdoor play invites risk-taking, coordination, strength, and confidence.

Different toys open different kinds of practice. So when children learn, “That is not for people like me,” they may stop exploring before they even discover whether they enjoy something or are good at it.

There is direct evidence that children make choices for others based on gender stereotypes. In one toy-choice experiment involving children aged four to seven, researchers asked a control group of 36 children to choose a toy for another child. Twenty-eight chose the gender-stereotypical toy, five chose the counter-stereotypical toy, and three chose the neutral toy. The difference was statistically significant. That is the sneaky part: the children were not choosing based on what that specific child liked. They were choosing based on what they thought a boy or girl was supposed to like. You can read the full toy-preference and counterstereotyping study.

Even the label can change children’s interest. In experiments with preschoolers, researchers used unfamiliar objects so children did not already know whether they were supposed to be “boy toys” or “girl toys.” Then the researchers changed the gender labels and colours. The same basic object became more or less appealing depending on whether it was labelled or presented as “for boys” or “for girls.” The study on toy labels, colours, and preschoolers’ preferences found that gender labels had a powerful effect on children’s stereotypes and interests.

Same child. Same object. Add a gender label, and suddenly the object carries permission or warning. Toy না, tiny visa application.

This is how stereotypes can create the very differences people later use to justify the stereotype. The chain is simple:

“That’s for boys” → “I won’t try it” → “I’ve never really done that” → “See, girls aren’t interested in that.”

Or the other way:

“That’s for girls” → “I won’t try it” → “I don’t know how to do that” → “See, boys aren’t nurturing.”

This is not magic. This is rehearsal. Children become good at what they are allowed, encouraged, and expected to practise.

The Theft Is Possibility

The effects can reach far beyond toys. A Swedish study asked 1,832 children aged five to thirteen from 28 schools to draw their dream jobs. Only three occupations—footballer, doctor, and police officer—appeared in the ten most popular choices for both girls and boys. Girls were more likely to choose occupations involving people or animals, while boys were more likely to choose occupations involving things.

Research with older children also finds links between gender stereotypes, motivation, and the futures children imagine. A study of 172 parent-child pairs found that parents’ gender stereotypes about language ability were associated with adolescents’ motivation and career aspirations. For girls, language stereotypes were linked with greater language motivation in a way that nudged aspirations away from STEM. For boys, traditional gender-role beliefs were linked with less interest in language arts.

So “that’s not for girls” or “that’s not for boys” can eventually become “that’s not for me.” That is the real theft. Not one toy, not one colour, not one comment. The theft is possibility.

Boys Get Boxed In Too

Sometimes we talk about gender stereotypes only as something that limits girls. And yes, girls are absolutely limited by being told to be smaller, softer, prettier, quieter, more agreeable, less bossy, less loud, less “too much.”

But boys also get boxed in. Boys are told not to cry, not to be scared, not to be gentle, not to like “girl things,” not to need comfort, not to ask for help, not to show softness unless approved by the masculinity committee, which apparently meets daily inside society’s head.

I do not want toxic masculinity for my son. I also do not want him to feel inferior for being a boy. I want him to be confident in who he is without needing to dominate anyone else. I want him to be comfortable saying what he wants to say without fearing that someone will call him weak, whipped, cuck, girly, soft, or whatever new insult insecure people are throwing around that week.

I also do not want him to hold back because he is scared he is being too masculine or not masculine enough. That is also a trap. The goal is not to make boys afraid of being boys. The goal is to let them be whole human beings.

A boy who wants to play with a doll may be practising care, or just playing for fun. A boy who loves language, music, art, dance, ballet, astronomy, football, dinosaurs, cooking, emotional storytelling, or all of the above should not have to pass through a security checkpoint labelled “masculine enough.” A boy who cries is not broken. He is a child with a nervous system, not a tiny unpaid soldier.

Even small classroom habits can reinforce the box. “Boys line up here, girls line up there.” “Boys versus girls.” “Girls are neater.” “Boys are louder.” “Let the boys carry the heavy things.”

Not every mention of gender is automatically harmful, but when adults repeatedly use gender as the main way to organize children, children learn that gender is one of the most important things about them. In one classroom experiment, teachers’ functional use of gender categories over four weeks increased children’s gender stereotyping, especially among children with less advanced classification skills.

Children are very good at learning the rules adults pretend they are not teaching.

These Rules Can Be Interrupted

The good news is that these rules can be interrupted. Children are not permanently ruined because someone bought them a pink tutu or a blue truck. Their beliefs are flexible.

In experiments with 373 children aged four to seven, children were shown simple counter-stereotypical messages, such as boys can like dolls and girls can like trucks. Afterward, the children made more counter-stereotypical and fewer stereotypical predictions about what other children would like. In one experiment, the intervention also changed the toys children selected for peers. The researchers describe the approach and its limitations in Counterstereotyping Can Change Children’s Thinking About Boys’ and Girls’ Toy Preferences.

That is important because the intervention was not some 900-page policy document or a government-funded gender-neutral spaceship. It was simply information that contradicted the rule.

So what do we do? We do not need to panic and throw every pink item into the sea. We do not need to ban trucks, dolls, princesses, dinosaurs, glitter, football, kitchen sets, ballet shoes, science kits, or toy swords. We need to stop treating them like destiny.

Offer the doll and the truck. Offer the blocks and the art supplies. Offer the science kit and the pretend kitchen. Offer the dance class and the telescope. Let children explore before adults start narrating who they are supposed to become.

Instead of saying, “You’re such a strong boy,” we can say, “You worked hard carrying that.”

Instead of saying, “Girls are so caring,” we can say, “That was kind of you.”

Instead of saying, “That’s for boys,” we can say, “Do you want to try it?”

Instead of saying, “That’s for girls,” we can say, “That is a great choice.”

Growing up and finding yourself is hard enough. Being a good human is already a full-time job. Taking care of people around you, taking care of nature, learning how to be kind, brave, responsible, curious, and honest—that is enough to keep a child busy every day.

Toxic masculinity and toxic femininity have no room in the lives of our children. They already have enough to learn without carrying the rusty chains of gender roles around their ankles.

Let Preference Be a Choice

The goal is not to stop girls from liking pink. The goal is to make sure pink is a choice, not an assignment.

The goal is not to stop boys from liking trucks. The goal is to make sure trucks are an option, not a citizenship requirement.

And the goal is not to force children into some perfectly neutral beige childhood where nobody is allowed to enjoy anything because the adults are overcorrecting and now even the teddy bear needs a committee review.

The goal is freedom.

A child who loves princesses should be allowed to love princesses. A child who loves construction trucks should be allowed to love construction trucks. A child who loves both should not be treated like a confusing software update. A child who loves neither should not be dragged into the gender aisle like it is a legal obligation.

Children deserve room to discover themselves before the world starts handing them scripts. Harmful gender normalization is not “a girl wore pink once” or “a boy liked cars.” It is the constant message that gender should decide personality, ability, emotion, play, friendship, and future.

“Boys and girls can be different” is fine.

But “boys and girls have to be different”?

That is not childhood.

That is a box with glitter on it.

Sources and Further Reading

• Gender stereotyping as a human-rights issue — UN Human Rights Office
• Why gender inequality often starts at home — Plan International Canada
• Rigidity in gender-typed behaviours in early childhood — Child Development
• Gender attitudes in early childhood — Child Development
• Pink gives girls permission: toy labels, colours, and preschoolers’ preferences — Journal of Applied Developmental Psychology
• Counterstereotyping can change children’s thinking about toy preferences — Journal of Experimental Child Psychology
• Functional use of gender in the classroom — Child Development
• Drawing the future: children’s occupational aspirations in Sweden — Frontiers in Education
• How parents’ stereotypical beliefs relate to students’ motivation and career aspirations — Frontiers in Psychology

Cognitive Processing Therapy (CPT) is an evidence-based, trauma-focused psychotherapy for PTSD. The VA’s National Center for PTSD explains that CPT helps people notice and examine trauma-related thoughts called “stuck points” and develop more balanced ways of understanding what happened, themselves, other people, and the world.

🧠 Your Brain Learns Rules

After something really upsetting happens, your brain tries hard to protect you.

Sometimes it learns rules like:

“Nobody is safe.”
“It was my fault.”
“I can’t trust anyone.”
“I have to be careful ALL the time.”

These thoughts can get stuck, even when they are not completely true anymore.

🚨 Think of It Like a Smoke Alarm

A smoke alarm is supposed to warn you about fire.

🔥 Fire → BEEP!
Good! It is protecting you.

But imagine it becomes so sensitive that…

🍞 Burnt toast → BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

Your brain can do something similar after trauma.

CPT helps you ask:

“Am I in danger now, or is my alarm reacting to something that happened before?”

🔎 Become a Thought Detective

CPT teaches you not to automatically believe every scary thought your brain gives you.

Instead, investigate:

🔎 What actually happened?
🔎 What evidence do I have?
🔎 Am I missing part of the story?
🔎 Is this a feeling or a fact?

Then build a thought that fits the whole story.

🌱 What Can CPT Help With?

😨 “I’m never safe.” → Feeling safer
😔 “It was my fault.” → Guilt and blame
🤔 “I can’t trust anyone.” → Trust
😞 “Something is wrong with me.” → Self-worth
😠 “I have to control everything.” → Control
🧍 “Getting close means getting hurt.” → Relationships

CPT often examines how trauma has affected beliefs about safety, trust, power and control, esteem, and intimacy. These are the five themes described by the VA’s National Center for PTSD.

The Big Idea

CPT can’t change what happened.

❤️ It helps your brain learn that what happened doesn’t have to make the rules forever.

A Note About Support

This page is a simplified introduction, not instructions for processing trauma on your own. CPT is a structured psychotherapy for PTSD. A qualified mental-health professional can help you decide whether it fits your needs and provide support while you work through painful material.

Further reading

• VA National Center for PTSD: Cognitive Processing Therapy for PTSD
• American Psychological Association: Cognitive Processing Therapy

There is a very specific kind of anxiety that comes with planning a child’s birthday party now.

It starts with something innocent: a theme, a guest list, a cake. Maybe pizza, juice, balloons, drinks for the parents, goody bags, not goody bags.

Maybe I am losing my mind over a six-year-old’s birthday party, which, to be fair, I slightly am.

I have planned themed invites. I sent the invites to his school twice. I spoke to his teachers so they could help make sure the invitations actually reached parents and hopefully got RSVPs. I ordered a themed cake. I planned pizza and juice. I am working on goody bags that will be useful and not be immediately discarded.

Basically, I am one step away from standing at the school gate with a clipboard like, “Hello, have you considered attending my child’s social development opportunity disguised as a birthday party?”

And the thing is, I know how this sounds.

It sounds like I am trying to make my child popular. And maybe there is a little truth there, but not in the shallow movie-villain-mom way. I do not want fake friends for him. I do not want popularity as a personality replacement. I do not want him to become the CEO of kindergarten.

But my son is on the spectrum, and initiating play does not always come easily to him. Friendships do not always happen through magic. Some children can walk into a playground, say “wanna play?” and boom, full social merger. My child sometimes needs more structure, more chances, more bridges built toward him.

That part is not just my anxiety talking. Autism can involve differences in social communication and interaction, including the skills used to start, build, and maintain friendships. Some children on the spectrum may need more support, practice, and real-life opportunities to build those relationships. The National Autistic Society’s guidance for parents and carers includes structured, tangible practice and support from schools among its suggestions.

So yes, I am trying. Not because I think a goody bag will manufacture love. Not because I think Kinder eggs are a friendship intervention—though honestly, Kinder eggs have done more diplomacy than some governments.

I am trying because I want to create openings. I want him to have a good day. I want other kids to see him in a happy, fun, familiar setting. I want him to have memories where he was not hovering at the edge of the room, waiting for someone else to notice him.

And maybe that part hits harder because I remember what it felt like to be a child who was not centred.

I did not grow up with birthday parties where we, the children, were the sun and everyone orbited around us. We were not the heart of the house. We were footnotes. Barely present. There because we had nowhere else to be. Discarded and tolerated. We slept on the floor, or wherever. Ate or did not eat. Nobody fussed over whether we felt special. The maid servant was at least asked if she had eaten.

So when I am planning my son’s party and rechecking the list for the thirty-seventh time, it is not only about balloons. It is not only about cake. It is not only about whether I bought enough juice boxes.

It is also this weird ache of wanting my child to never wonder whether he mattered.

And this is where I start asking myself: is this a millennial thing? An anxious person thing? An AuDHD thing? A mother thing? A trauma thing? A “modern parenting” thing?

Probably yes. Probably all of it.

Trying to Raise Them Differently

Modern parenting does seem to come with a heavier mental load. Pew Research Center found that mothers are more likely than fathers to say parenting is stressful and tiring, to feel judged by others, and to manage children’s schedules and activities. Its survey also found that mothers are more likely than fathers to say they are trying to raise their children differently from how they were raised.

That sentence landed in my ribs a little: trying to raise them differently.

Because that is exactly what it feels like sometimes. Not just parenting. Counter-parenting. Repair-parenting. Parenting while looking at your own childhood and saying, “Nope. Not this. This one stops here.”

There is also a name for the style of parenting many of us have been pulled into: intensive parenting or intensive mothering. It is the idea that good parenting means constant investment, planning, emotional availability, development support, enrichment, safety, stimulation, memory-making, and also somehow remembering which child likes Paw Patrol and which one is gluten-free. A Penn Today explanation of intensive mothering describes this modern style as heavily child-focused and demanding of mothers’ time, attention, and planning.

And the hard part is, some of it comes from love. Some of it is beautiful.

I do want to be thoughtful. I do want to know my child. I do want to make him feel celebrated. I do want to help him connect with other children. I do want to be the kind of parent who notices.

But intensive parenting can also become a pressure cooker. Research available through PubMed Central links intensive parenting beliefs with maternal stress, exhaustion, anxiety, guilt, and self-blame when mothers feel they are failing the impossible “ideal mother” standard.

Am I Loving My Child, or Trying to Panic-Proof His Whole Life?

So maybe the question is not: Am I a good parent or a bad parent?

Maybe the better question is: am I loving my child, or am I trying to panic-proof his whole life? Because those are not the same thing.

Planning a thoughtful party? Good. Making sure the invitation reaches families? Reasonable. Choosing goody bag items that are fun and useful? Cute. Checking the list once or twice? Normal.

But checking and rechecking until my brain becomes a browser with 47 tabs open and one of them is playing birthday music but I cannot find which one? That is probably my anxiety, and I need to be honest about that too.

The mental load of parenting is not just doing the task. It is remembering, anticipating, planning, checking, tracking, worrying, and holding the emotional outcome of the whole event in your head. A systematic review of mental labour describes this kind of invisible family work as involving planning, monitoring, anticipating needs, remembering, managing, and self-regulation—and found that women often carry more of this load.

That is exactly what birthday party planning can become.

Not “buy balloons.”

More like:

Buy balloons.
But not too many.
But enough.
Will balloons scare anyone?
Do we need extra plates?
What if parents stay?
What if parents leave?
Should I have coffee?
Will the cake arrive on time?
Will my son be overwhelmed?

No wonder my brain is tired. It is running a full event management office with one unpaid employee and too many tabs.

So what helps? For me, I think it is separating love from panic.

The loving part says:

“I want my child to feel celebrated.”

The panic part says:

“If anything goes wrong, I have failed as a mother.”

The loving part says:

“I want to give him chances to connect.”

The panic part says:

“If enough kids don’t come, this means something terrible about his future.”

So maybe the goal is not to stop caring. I do not want to become careless. I know what careless felt like as a child, and I am not interested in passing that down like family silverware nobody asked for.

The goal is to care without making every detail a referendum on my worth as a parent.

The Party Is Not an Exam

My son does not need a perfect party. He needs to feel wanted, feel seen.

And he needs a mother who is present enough to enjoy the party too, not just a sweaty logistics goblin hiding behind the pizza boxes checking whether the thank-you notes are emotionally optimized.

So yes, I will probably still check the list again: cake, pizza, juice, goody bags, balloons, plates, parent drinks, thank-you notes, child’s joy, and mother’s nervous system, if we can fit it in the budget.

But I am trying to remember this: the party is not an exam. The RSVP count is not a prophecy. The goody bag is not a moral document.

And giving my child opportunities does not mean I have to engineer his entire childhood like a military operation with gummies.

It means I am trying. Not good parent. Not bad parent. Not millennial anxious disaster mother.

Just a mother who remembers what it felt like to be uncared for, and is trying very, very hard to make sure her child never has to translate love from absence.

One bad feeling hits, and suddenly my brain is in full emergency-broadcast mode. With OCD, it is not just “I am anxious.” It becomes checking, re-checking, scanning my body, watching for danger, and then checking again to see if the checking worked.

The National Institute of Mental Health describes OCD as involving uncontrollable, recurring thoughts and repetitive, excessive behaviours that can cause major distress or interfere with daily life. Its detailed OCD guide also notes that compulsions may bring temporary relief from anxiety without giving pleasure.

That “temporary relief” part is the trap. It works for three seconds, and then the brain says, “Cool cool cool, now check again.”

PTSD from losing someone adds another layer. You do not just “get over” that. You do not wake up one day and uninstall the grief. The fear of “history repeating itself” can make me want to bang my head like Dobby.

There was a time when I did just sit in it. I would wallow, panic, ruminate, and basically lose the whole day to the spiral. I was not just stuck. I was fucked-stuck.

I still panic. I still get the bad feeling. I still sometimes want to check whether my ear is hot or my brain is throbbing or whether this one sensation means doom has entered the chat.

But now I do not give the panic full control immediately. I have a checklist. Sometimes I follow it in order, sometimes I don’t, but I try to go through it before I allow myself to spiral.

1. I Distract My Brain First

I love watching TV. So I use that. Sometimes I put on clips from The Big Bang Theory. Sometimes it is kickass anime. Sometimes I need something familiar; sometimes I need something intense enough to hijack my brain for a bit.

This is not me pretending the panic is not there. It is more like telling my brain, “You are clearly not driving safely right now, so please sit in the passenger seat.”

The VA’s National Center for PTSD includes pleasant or purposeful activities among its positive coping actions, noting that they can interrupt distressing memories and reactions.

When it works, win.

When it does not, I move to the next thing.

2. I Talk It Out

If someone is available, I talk to my husband, a friend, or a sibling. Whoever is possible.

And if no human is available, yes, I talk to AI. Gemini has genuinely got me through multiple hours that would otherwise have been agonising. Not because AI is therapy, and not because it replaces people, but because sometimes I need something to help me get through the next hour without letting my brain eat itself.

Talking to someone trusted is also supported by mental-health guidance. The NHS suggests talking about anxiety, fear, and panic with a friend, family member, health professional, or counsellor. The VA PTSD centre notes that carefully chosen support can help people feel less alone and more understood.

Sometimes talking helps enough. Sometimes it does not.

Then I move.

3. I Put the Nervous Energy Somewhere Physical

This is usually the part Gemini tells me to do.

I am not a fan of working out. I do not find motivation in running and not going anywhere. But I can clean the kitchen. I can do laundry. I can water the plants. I can dust the bookshelves. I can tidy one corner of the house and pretend I am just being productive, when really I am giving the panic somewhere to go.

For me, chores work better than “exercise.” Same body, same movement, less motivational-poster nonsense.

Physical activity is among the self-care tools listed for panic by the Mayo Clinic and the NHS. The CDC also notes that even a single session of moderate-to-vigorous physical activity can reduce feelings of anxiety. That does not mean my laundry is a clinical treatment. It means movement can be useful—and chores happen to be the kind of movement I can make myself do.

Usually, after I clean something, fold something, water something, or move around long enough, I come under a certain threshold. Once I am under that threshold, the crisis is not gone, but it becomes manageable.

Then it becomes a maintenance job.

4. I Ground Myself Before I Obey the Alarm

I remind myself that high alert is not the same as spiralling.

Being on high alert is not always useless. Sometimes life really does require vigilance. Sometimes your body is trying to protect you. But there is a difference between being alert and being dragged behind your nervous system.

That is the line I am trying to notice now.

Am I alert, or am I spiralling?

Am I responding, or am I feeding the loop?

Am I checking because I need information, or checking because OCD wants one more coin for the machine?

Grounding techniques work on that same idea: bringing attention back to the present instead of letting the brain live entirely in the “what if.” Cleveland Clinic describes grounding as a way to interrupt anxious thoughts by focusing on present-moment reality through the senses.

My checklist is not perfect. It does not cure panic. It does not erase grief. It does not make PTSD politely pack its bags and leave.

But it gives me a sequence.

Distract. → Talk. → Move. → Ground.

Do not immediately obey the spiral.

That is the difference now.

Not that I never panic anymore. I do.

But I do not just sit there banging my head like Dobby anymore.

Well. Not as a lifestyle.

A Small Note About Support

This is my personal coping checklist, not medical advice or a replacement for therapy, medication, or professional care. AI is not therapy or emergency support. If panic, OCD, PTSD symptoms, or urges to hurt yourself are becoming unsafe or unmanageable, that deserves real support.

In Canada, if you are thinking about suicide or in crisis, call or text 9-8-8. Support is available 24 hours a day, seven days a week. If you or someone you know is in immediate danger, call 9-1-1 or go to the nearest emergency department. Government of Canada crisis guidance

Sciatic pain is difficult to explain to someone who has never experienced it. It is not always easy to describe. Sometimes it feels like a sharp, burning pain. Sometimes it is almost electrical—a sudden shooting sensation that travels from the lower back or hip down one leg. Sometimes it feels like it is a living thing stretching down my leg.

Then there are the strange nerve sensations: tingling, pins and needles, numbness, or a leg or foot that simply does not feel quite right.

What makes it especially frustrating is how ordinary movements can suddenly make it worse. Sitting for too long, bending forward, coughing, sneezing, moving the wrong way, or even sitting on the toilet and straining during a bowel movement can send the pain shooting down the nerve again. And once the nerve is irritated, simply “resting” does not necessarily make it disappear.

Pain Medication Helps the Pain. It Does Not Solve My Problem.

Pain medication can help me when the pain becomes difficult to tolerate. But for me, that relief has always been temporary.

The thing that has made the biggest difference is movement—specifically, movements intended to mobilize the sciatic nerve and the tissues around it. That distinction took me a while to understand. And when I say a while, I mean decades.

I used to think:

Pain → stretch more.
Pain → walk more.
Pain → lose weight.

But simply stretching my legs, hamstrings, or back did not reliably help. Walking for hours sometimes increased the pain twofold. Sometimes aggressive stretching could actually irritate things further. And losing upward of 20 kg did not fix it either; it mostly just came with frequent dizzy spells.

What I eventually found much more useful was sciatic nerve mobilization, often called nerve flossing or nerve gliding.

The goal is not to pull the nerve into the biggest stretch possible. It is almost the opposite. The idea is to move gently back and forth through a comfortable range, without yanking on or further irritating an already sensitive nerve.

Another very important part is consistency. Doing one enormous stretching session after the pain becomes severe does not work nearly as well for me as doing a few gentle, targeted movements regularly.

These are the four movements I keep coming back to. They are descriptions of my routine, not a prescription for anyone else. There are different versions of nerve glides, and a qualified healthcare professional or physiotherapist can help someone choose movements that fit their symptoms.

1. Seated Sciatic Nerve Glide

I sit upright near the edge of a firm chair.

I slowly straighten the affected leg in front of me while bringing my toes toward me, only as far as feels comfortable. Then I lower the leg and relax the foot again.

The movement should be smooth and gentle.

I think of this less as a “stretch” and more as allowing the nerve to slide back and forth.

I usually aim for around 10–15 gentle repetitions.

The important word here is gentle. If I am getting a strong electric or shooting sensation, I have pushed too far and I stop.

2. Piriformis Stretch

I lie on my back with my knees bent.

I cross the ankle of the affected leg over the opposite knee, creating a figure-four shape. Then I gently bring the uncrossed leg toward my chest.

I feel the stretch around the buttock and deep hip area.

I usually hold this for around 20–30 seconds, then repeat it a couple of times.

This one feels different from nerve flossing because it is more of a traditional muscular stretch, particularly around the deep hip and piriformis area.

3. Standing Nerve Floss

I place the affected foot on a low step.

I keep my back relatively straight and gently hinge forward from the hips while bringing my toes upward. Then I ease back out of the position.

Again, the goal is not to bend as far as possible. It is a controlled movement along the pathway running through the back of the leg.

Around 10–15 slow repetitions work much better for me than holding an aggressive stretch.

4. Knee Toward the Opposite Shoulder

I lie on my back.

I bend the affected leg and gently bring the knee diagonally toward the opposite shoulder.

I feel the movement deep around the glute and hip rather than forcing the knee as far as it can possibly go.

This is another movement I find useful when the area around the hip feels particularly tight.

The Biggest Lesson: Consistency Beats Intensity

If there is one thing sciatic pain has taught me, it is this:

Doing the right movement gently every day works better for me than attacking the pain with an enormous stretching session once it becomes unbearable.

For me, maintenance matters. A few minutes of targeted nerve glides and stretches each day can make a noticeable difference. I also try not to stay in the same position for too long. If I have been sitting, getting up and walking for a few minutes helps.

The combination of gentle walking and nerve mobility seems to work much better for me than remaining still for hours. And I never try to “push through” a sharp electrical pain during nerve flossing. That is not the goal. The movement should feel controlled.

My Rule Now

I have essentially reduced my approach to three things:

1. Move the nerve gently.
2. Do it consistently.
3. Do not wait until the pain is unbearable.

That is what has helped me manage sciatic pain better than anything else I have tried.

It may not be the answer for every cause of sciatica. Persistent or worsening symptoms—including new weakness—deserve prompt medical assessment.

New loss of bladder or bowel control, difficulty starting or passing urine, numbness around the genitals, anus, or bottom—the “saddle” area—or severe or worsening weakness or numbness in both legs need emergency medical assessment.

But in my own experience, learning the difference between generic stretching and targeted sciatic nerve mobility completely changed how I manage the pain.

This article shares my personal experience, not a diagnosis or treatment plan. Sciatica can have different causes, and exercises are not suitable for everyone. A healthcare professional or physiotherapist can help assess persistent symptoms and choose appropriate movements. NHS sciatica guidance lists the emergency warning signs, and its exercise safety advice says to stop an exercise if it causes pain.

ChatGPT is not even half a decade old, yet somehow, it already feels like it holds the keys to my daily life.

I started my website just a month ago, and frankly, I know almost nothing about the technical side—Markdown files, Cloudflare, Substack, yada yada. I basically write my content and hand it over to Codex to do the heavy lifting. Upload this. Format that. Resize this image. Fix whatever I broke. I have a workflow documented, sure, but it is just so much easier to ask AI to do it.

Which made me stop and think: What do I actually do myself anymore?

I catch myself running the simplest emails through AI before clicking send. Which is ridiculous when I think about it. Before AI, I wrote entire academic papers. I wrote page after page of emails without a second thought. Now I find myself wanting to double-check a text to my son’s friend’s mom.

Does this sound weird? Too formal? Too blunt? Should I add an exclamation mark? Is that too many exclamation marks?

When did I lose the confidence to just… say things?

And apparently, I am far from alone. We have become remarkably comfortable handing AI all the little bits of thinking that used to simply be part of being a person.

The Five Most Mundane Things We Now Hand Over to AI

• Proofreading things that really do not need proofreading. Emails. Texts. Polite declines. Messages to acquaintances. Anything where we suddenly need reassurance that we sound like a normal human being.
• Thinking of basic ideas. What can I cook with these three things in my fridge? What should I pack for the weekend? What do I buy someone for their birthday?
• Reading things we do not feel like reading. Long work emails. School newsletters. Articles. Please read this and tell me what I actually need to know.
• Making messy things look organized. Notes become bullet points. Brain dumps become tables. Random thoughts become Markdown files.
• Planning things we could probably plan ourselves. To-do lists. Study schedules. Packing lists. Step-by-step instructions for tasks we have somehow survived doing for years.

What Do I Use It For?

Texts. Emails. Spelling and grammar checks. Images. My website. Research. And a ridiculous number of visual stories and instructions for my son.

For the big things, AI genuinely feels like a superpower. I can build and manage a website despite barely understanding what is happening behind it. I can turn an idea into something real without first spending six months learning the technical skills to make it happen.

I do not want to give that up.

But somewhere between “Help me build a website” and “Does this text message sound okay?”, I think there is a line worth noticing.

Because efficiency is wonderful.

I just do not want to become so efficient that I forget how to trust my own words.

When many people hear the term Cognitive Behavioural Therapy (CBT), they assume it is a heavy clinical treatment meant strictly for hospitals, formal diagnoses, or severe mental-health crises. CBT is a psychological treatment, but many of the ideas and exercises used within it are also practical tools for understanding how our minds process the world.

You do not need a formal diagnosis to learn from basic CBT-informed self-help techniques. Whether you are unlearning childhood conditioning, navigating the stress that can accompany neurodivergence, or simply trying to stop your brain from spiralling at 2:00 a.m., these tools may help you create more room between a thought and your response. Formal CBT is still a treatment, however, and some people and conditions benefit from—or require—support from a properly trained professional.

What Does CBT Mean?

CBT stands for Cognitive Behavioural Therapy. It is a structured, practical, and goal-focused approach that looks at the relationship among three core elements:

1. Thoughts: The internal monologue and immediate assumptions running through your head.
2. Feelings: The emotional and physical reactions that follow, such as anxiety, dread, anger, sadness, or a sinking feeling in your stomach.
3. Behaviours: The actions you take in response, such as avoiding a task, withdrawing from people, people-pleasing, or seeking repeated reassurance.

The NHS overview of CBT describes the way situations can affect how we think, feel, and act—and how CBT can help us approach those situations differently.

A common misconception is that CBT is about “forced positivity”: tricking yourself into thinking everything is sunshine and rainbows. It is not. CBT does not ask you to ignore reality. It helps you notice patterns that may be keeping you stuck, examine whether your first interpretation is accurate or useful, and practise other ways of responding.

The Automatic Cycle

To understand how CBT can work in everyday life, it helps to break down a chain reaction that may happen in our minds many times a day:

• The trigger—an event: Something happens in your environment: a work email, a sudden change in schedule, or a subtle shift in someone’s tone.
• The automatic thought: Your brain instantly creates a story about the event, often influenced by past experience: “I am going to mess this up,” “They are upset with me,” or “I am failing at this.”
• The emotion: That thought is followed by a physical and emotional response. Anxiety may spike, your stomach may drop, or guilt may settle in.
• The behaviour: To escape the discomfort, you may react from habit by procrastinating, shutting down, over-explaining yourself, withdrawing, or repeatedly seeking reassurance.

CBT helps insert a pause between the automatic thought and what you do next.

Instead of letting the first thought dictate your next move, you can step back and ask:

“Is this thought a factual guarantee, or is it one possible interpretation?”

The goal is not to pretend that a painful interpretation is impossible. It is to check the evidence before treating that interpretation as the only truth. By catching a thought before it drives your behaviour, you may begin to change the cycle.

What Can CBT Help With?

CBT is widely researched and is used in tailored forms for a range of mental-health difficulties, including depression, anxiety disorders, panic, phobias, OCD, PTSD, and eating disorders. Different problems call for different techniques; for example, treatment for OCD or an eating disorder should not be reduced to a generic “think differently” exercise. The American Psychological Association and the NHS both describe the evidence for CBT across a range of problems.

CBT-informed skills may also be useful for everyday psychological stress, including:

• Chronic overthinking and worry: Constantly playing out catastrophic scenarios in your head.
• Unlearning childhood guilt: Disentangling your self-worth from productivity, perfectionism, or the need to please everyone.
• Perfectionism and burnout: Challenging the belief that if something is not done perfectly, it is a complete failure.
• Social situations and daily transitions: Managing anxiety around unfamiliar routines, changes, or interactions.

The NHS also offers self-help CBT techniques for recognising unhelpful cycles, reframing thoughts, managing worries, solving problems, and gradually facing fears. Self-help can be a useful starting point, but it is not a replacement for individual assessment when distress is severe, persistent, or interfering with daily life.

What Do You Learn?

CBT is not simply sitting on a couch and talking endlessly about childhood, although understanding your history can be valuable. It is an active skill-building approach. In CBT, you may learn to:

• Notice: Become an observer of your own mind and catch automatic patterns as they happen.
• Question: Test the evidence. What supports this thought? What contradicts it? Is there information you do not yet have?
• Reframe: Develop alternative, realistic perspectives that account for the facts without automatically catastrophising.
• Change: Practise behaviours that reduce avoidance or interrupt a cycle instead of maintaining it.
• Practise: Try skills between sessions or in ordinary life so they become easier to use when stress is high.
• Build confidence: Develop trust in your ability to handle difficult emotions and uncertain situations.

These are skills, not moral tests. Struggling to use them does not mean you are failing at therapy or at life. Sometimes a thought pattern is connected to trauma, disability, poverty, discrimination, unsafe circumstances, or a problem that cannot be solved by reframing it. A good CBT approach does not blame you for reality; it helps you distinguish what can be questioned, what can be changed, and what needs support or protection.

The Bigger Picture

The most liberating truth about CBT may be this: it does not teach you never to have difficult thoughts or feelings again.

Minds generate thoughts, and life will continue to bring stressful situations. CBT can change your relationship with some of those thoughts. Instead of treating every anxious impulse as absolute truth, you can learn to view it as mental weather—something you can acknowledge and observe before choosing how to respond.

CBT is not one-size-fits-all, and it will not be the right or sufficient approach for every person or every situation. But you do not need a medical label before you are allowed to become curious about your own patterns. If you recognize yourself in cycles of anxiety, self-doubt, or old conditioning, CBT-informed tools can offer a practical and compassionate place to begin—one thought at a time.

A Note About Support

This article offers general education about CBT-informed skills. It is not a diagnosis, an individual treatment plan, or a promise that CBT will work for everyone in the same way. If difficult thoughts or feelings are intense, persistent, connected to trauma, or interfering with daily life, a qualified mental-health professional can help you decide what kind of support fits your needs.

Further reading

• NHS: Cognitive behavioural therapy
• NHS Every Mind Matters: Self-help CBT techniques
• American Psychological Association: What is Cognitive Behavioral Therapy?

A bathroom schedule worked for my son.

Almost.

I say almost because it was not a magical solution. We still have far too many “I don’t want to pee” and “I don’t want to poop” moments. We still prompt, reassure and occasionally wonder how one basic bodily function became a whole-household production.

But my son no longer holds his pee for fifteen hours straight.

That is not a small improvement.

For him, using the toilet is not one simple task. He has to notice what his body is saying, stop what he is doing, enter a space he may find uncomfortable, manage his clothes, sit, pee or poop, clean himself, flush, wash his hands and then return to whatever he left behind. That is a lot of sensations, transitions and decisions hiding inside one supposedly simple act.

The schedule did not remove all of that. It made the experience predictable enough to feel less frightening. Along with a step-by-step cleaning guide, a handwashing guide and positive reinforcement, it helped open the possibility of using the toilet without fear controlling the entire process.

And yes, I mean the kind of bathroom schedule that Sheldon Cooper’s friends make fun of. From the outside, it may look funny. Imagine needing an appointment with your own bladder! From where I am standing, however, it looks like a support that helped my child stop holding his urine for almost an entire day.

So perhaps Sheldon was onto something.

Timed bathroom visits are a real strategy used in paediatric bladder care. Depending on the child’s needs, they may involve trying to urinate at regular intervals rather than waiting until the urge becomes unbearable. The National Institute of Diabetes and Digestive and Kidney Diseases describes timed voiding for children as urinating on a schedule, often every two to three hours. It also explains that holding urine too long can trigger bladder-function problems or make existing problems worse. Children who regularly hold their urine for very long periods should be assessed by a healthcare professional. (NIDDK: Bladder-control treatment for children; NIDDK: Symptoms and causes)

Visual schedules can also help children who find it difficult to process or remember every step of toileting. The pictures can show clothes down, sit, pee or poop, wipe, clothes up, flush, wash and dry hands. The sequence turns one enormous demand into several visible, manageable steps. (National Autistic Society: Toileting guide)

For us, positive reinforcement does not mean punishing him when nothing happens or praising him only when he successfully pees or poops. It means recognizing the attempt, encouraging the steps he manages and helping the bathroom become a place he can survive without shame.

Yes, it sounds like a lot.

That is because it is a lot.

There are days when I am tired of reminding, prompting, waiting and starting again. There are plenty of moments when I do not agree with my own patient parenting philosophy and would like the whole process to simply hurry up.

People may only see a child refusing to use the toilet and decide he is stubborn, spoiled or badly disciplined. They cannot see everything happening between the sensation in his body and the word no leaving his mouth.

If this schedule helps him feel less afraid, function more comfortably and manage his OCD-related fears without punishment or trauma, then all this work is worth it.

A schedule is a support.

A visual guide is a support.

A reminder is a support.

So is a crutch.

Laughing at someone for using the structure they need makes as much sense as laughing at a person for using a crutch to walk. Of course, people still laugh at literal crutches. If humanity can look directly at a visible disability and refuse to take it seriously, perhaps I should not be surprised that people struggle to respect needs they cannot see. Frankly, it is a miracle there is not an “I don’t believe in air because I can’t see it” society.

The bathroom schedule did not cure everything. It did not stop every refusal or suddenly give my son perfect awareness of his body. It simply helped more than anything else had.

Sometimes success means he goes after reassurance.

Sometimes it means he sits but nothing happens.

Sometimes it means he completes one more step without fear.

And sometimes it means he no longer holds his pee for fifteen hours.

The schedule was not a miracle.

It was a bridge.

If it helps my child cross from fear toward independence without leaving unnecessary trauma behind, people can laugh all they want.

We are keeping it.

This article shares one family’s personal experience and is not medical advice. Please consult a qualified healthcare professional about a child’s toileting or bladder concerns.

Content note: emotional abuse, threats of abandonment, parentification, and misogyny.

My father used to threaten to sell us.

It was not something he said every day. But it was not something he said only once, either. That distinction matters. It happened enough times that the possibility had somewhere to live inside my childhood.

I do not know whether he ever seriously intended to do it. I do not think that question matters as much as adults may want it to. A child does not hear a threat like that and carefully evaluate its legal or practical likelihood. A child hears: My place here is not secure. My father can give me away. My body and my future are his to bargain with.

That is a terrifying thing to put inside a little girl’s head.

He also liked to remind us that other daughters would give their lives for their fathers, while we were ungrateful. Apparently, being his daughters was not enough. We had to prove our devotion through service, sacrifice, obedience, and praise—and even then, the standard could move.

We cooked. We cleaned. We ironed his shirts and pants. The earliest I remember doing these things regularly, I was seven or eight years old. Nobody properly taught us how. We were simply expected to know. Then, when something was not cleaned well enough or a shirt was not ironed properly, he taunted us for failing him.

Ironing a shirt was not just a chore. It became an examination in devotion.

Children helping around the house is not automatically harmful. Learning to prepare food, fold clothes, or clean up after yourself can be a healthy part of childhood when the work is age-appropriate, taught patiently, shared fairly, and not connected to a child’s right to receive love or safety. What we experienced was different. We were expected to take responsibility for an adult man’s comfort before we were old enough to understand why his comfort had become our job.

Research describes parentification as a reversal or distortion of family roles in which a child takes on developmentally inappropriate responsibilities for a parent or family. It can be practical—such as excessive cooking, cleaning, or household management—or emotional, when a child is expected to protect a parent’s feelings, maintain family harmony, provide companionship, or support the parent’s self-esteem. The difference between learning responsibility and being parentified is not simply whether a child performs chores. It is the child’s age, the weight and frequency of the responsibility, the pressure attached to it, and what happens when the child cannot carry it. (Systematic review in the International Journal of Environmental Research and Public Health)

We were not only expected to cook, clean, and iron. We were also supposed to talk to him, listen to him, and praise him properly. We had to help maintain not only his home but also his idea of himself. A seven-year-old can help around the house. A seven-year-old should not be made responsible for an adult man’s clothes, comfort, ego, and sense of greatness.

Whenever he spoke to us at length, the conversation often became a list of our mother’s failures. We heard how imperfect she was and how glaring her flaws were. We were placed in the position of listening to one parent tear apart the other, as though we were his confidantes, judges, or witnesses for the prosecution rather than their children. Meanwhile, we were made to feel like thorns in his eyes and weights tied to his legs—the reasons he had not achieved whatever greatness he imagined should have been his.

That is an extraordinary burden to place on children. We had not created his circumstances. We had not made his decisions. We had not prevented him from pursuing his ambitions. We were children he had brought into the world, yet he spoke as if our existence were something we had done to him.

One memory, in particular, contains this entire family system in miniature.

I had been told since childhood that my father was an art major. At some point, while studying Jean Rhys’s Wide Sargasso Sea, I approached him for help. I was trying to understand a tormented woman. I wanted to examine what had happened to her and why she had gradually lost her mental stability.

In Wide Sargasso Sea, Rhys reimagines the life of the woman whom Jane Eyre reduces to “the madwoman in the attic.” She gives Antoinette Cosway a childhood, a history, and a voice. Antoinette’s deterioration cannot honestly be reduced to one neat cause. It is tied to colonial displacement, racial alienation, family trauma, patriarchal control, an increasingly destructive marriage, the loss of autonomy and identity, and eventually isolation and confinement. The novel is widely studied as a postcolonial and feminist rewriting of Jane Eyre—one that allows a previously silenced woman to tell part of her own story. (University of Cádiz research repository)

I brought my father a complicated question about the psychological unravelling of a woman whose identity and freedom were being stripped away.

He read what I had written and calmly told me that she felt guilty because she had failed to be satisfactory to her husband. Then he walked away. I was disgusted. I am still disgusted.

The question I brought him was literary. His answer was domestic doctrine.

A woman’s suffering, in his explanation, was not evidence that something terrible had been done to her. It was the consequence of her failure to satisfy a man. Her pain became guilt. Her destruction became inadequacy. The husband remained the standard against which her entire mind and life had to be measured.

I cannot know exactly what my father told himself when he gave me that answer. I cannot prove whether he deliberately twisted the novel, misunderstood it, or simply interpreted it through the only worldview he was willing to consider. I do know what his answer revealed to me: when presented with a tormented woman, his first instinct was to ask how she had failed her husband.

It was also the rule governing our home.

Our mother’s flaws were always available for discussion. His disappointments were blamed on his daughters. A woman’s value was measured through her usefulness to a man, and her suffering could be interpreted as evidence that she had not served him well enough.

We were expected to anticipate his needs without being taught. If we failed, we were ungrateful. If we did the work, it was merely what daughters were supposed to do. If his life was not what he wanted, our existence could be offered as an explanation.

And hanging above all of it was the threat that he could sell us.

The World Health Organization includes threats, intimidation, ridicule, rejection, denigration, and other hostile treatment within psychological or emotional violence against children. These are not harmless words simply because they leave no visible bruise. They can damage a child’s sense of safety, identity, and worth. (World Health Organization: Violence against children)

When a parent repeatedly connects a child’s safety to obedience and usefulness, the child can begin to understand love as a transaction. You earn your place by working. You earn protection by being pleasing. You prevent abandonment by staying useful. Rest feels selfish. Mistakes feel dangerous. Receiving anything can feel like taking on a debt you will eventually have to repay.

That is not gratitude. It is fear wearing the clothes of gratitude.

Naming what happened does not require me to diagnose my father. I do not need to decide what disorder he did or did not have, and I do not need to prove what existed inside his mind. I only need to describe what he repeatedly said, what he required of us, and what those demands did to the children living under them.

Nor do I need to pretend that every household chore was abuse. That would flatten the truth. The problem was not that I ever held an iron or helped prepare food. The problem was that adult responsibility was imposed without teaching, kindness, choice, or room for failure. The problem was that service became proof of love. The problem was that our father’s emotional and practical care was treated as his young daughters’ obligation.

We were daughters, not unpaid wives-in-training. We were children, not obstacles standing between a man and greatness.

I should not have been expected to know instinctively how to iron an adult man’s clothes at seven or eight. I should have been taught patiently if I was going to help. I should not have been responsible for praising a grown man enough to keep his ego intact. I should not have had to listen while he dismantled my mother’s character. I should never have been told that other daughters would die for their fathers, as though a child’s willingness to disappear were the highest proof of love. And I certainly should not have been made to wonder whether my father could sell me if I disappointed him.

For years, he presented us as the burdens in his story. But children are not responsible for rescuing a parent from the life that parent built. Daughters do not owe their fathers domestic service, constant admiration, emotional caretaking, or death as proof of devotion.

I was not ungrateful. I was a child. My sisters were children.

We were not thorns. We were not weights. We were not debts that had to justify their cost. We were little girls who deserved to be protected, taught, listened to, and loved without having to earn our place in the family.

When I remember Wide Sargasso Sea now, I still remember the disgust I felt when my father reduced a tormented woman’s destruction to her inability to satisfy her husband. But I can finally name why that answer affected me so deeply. He was not merely interpreting a character.

He was repeating the story he had already written for every woman in our home.

I simply refuse to live inside that story anymore.

It all started because my younger sister was into TVXQ.

This is how many permanent changes seem to begin in families: one sibling becomes obsessed with something, and suddenly everybody else is involved too. So when Sungkyunkwan Scandal came out in 2010, my siblings and I started watching it together. We waited for every new episode and then went looking for whatever subtitled version we could find. We were certainly not waiting patiently for a dub. Patience had no place in this arrangement.

We started watching for Park Yoochun. This was his Korean television-drama debut, and as TVXQ-adjacent people, we were naturally curious. Then Song Joong-ki appeared on the screen as Gu Yong-ha, and I felt like I was going to drool every time he was there. (The Korea Times)

There is no dignified or sophisticated way to put that. It is simply the truth.

The cast was almost unfairly attractive, the acting was decent, and the drama was funny, warm and entertaining. At its centre was Kim Yoon-hee, a young woman in the Joseon era who disguised herself as a man so that she could study at Sungkyunkwan, an institution women were not allowed to attend.

This was not exactly a new idea. A woman dressing as a man and walking into a world closed to women is an age-old storytelling device. Shakespeare did it in Twelfth Night, and storytellers were playing with disguised identities long before him. But a trope does not have to be new to work. I love a good cliché. When it is done properly, it can make me laugh, ache and occasionally cry over something I knew was coming from the beginning.

The idea was deeply attractive to the younger me: a clever woman putting on men’s clothes and claiming access to an education she had been denied. Honestly, it is still attractive to the 36-year-old me. Maybe even more so now.

At the time, however, I was not sitting there performing literary analysis. I was watching a pretty girl pretending to be a boy while several equally pretty men complicated her life. I was entertained. Song Joong-ki kept appearing. My siblings were beside me. We had another episode to wait for. That was enough.

And somehow, it opened a door that never closed again.

After Sungkyunkwan Scandal, I followed the TVXQ members into their acting projects. Then one drama led to another. I watched the funny ones, the ridiculous ones, the painfully romantic ones and stories with queer characters and themes. Some were wonderful. Some were objectively questionable. I watched them anyway.

I also developed a particular love for historical dramas. That path eventually took me to shows such as Dr. Jin and The Moon Embracing the Sun. Korean dramas opened the door, and Chinese and Japanese dramas soon followed. Now they are simply part of my regular rotation, alongside the animated shows I love. At the moment, I am watching Alchemy of Souls—another historical fantasy full of beautiful people, complicated identities, impossible magic and enough emotional suffering to keep me perfectly happy.

Looking back, Sungkyunkwan Scandal was an almost suspiciously perfect gateway drama for me. It had comedy, romance, friendship, political conflict, historical clothing, gender disguise and people staring intensely at one another while trying not to reveal important secrets. Apparently, that was the exact formula required to rearrange my viewing habits forever.

I later learned that Sungkyunkwan was not invented for the drama. The historic institution was established in 1398 as Joseon’s highest national educational institution, and today’s Sungkyunkwan University traces its history back to it. (Sungkyunkwan University’s history)

There is also something wonderfully ridiculous about the fact that Song Joong-ki was studying Business Administration at the modern Sungkyunkwan University while appearing in a drama about students at the historical Sungkyunkwan. He later graduated in 2012. So while I was drooling over Gu Yong-ha, Song Joong-ki was, in fact, playing a student of his own university’s distant predecessor. (The Korea Times)

The series was adapted from Jung Eun-gwol’s novel The Lives of Sungkyunkwan Confucian Scholars. In another delightful bit of connection, Jung Eun-gwol also wrote the novel that became The Moon Embracing the Sun—one of the historical dramas I found farther down the very path Sungkyunkwan Scandal had started me on. (Korean Literature Now: Jung Eun-gwol)

And apparently, I was not the only person captivated by Song Joong-ki’s Gu Yong-ha. He and Yoo Ah-in, who played Moon Jae-shin, won a Best Couple Award at the 2010 KBS Drama Awards—even though their characters were not the drama’s central romantic couple. Park Yoochun and Park Min-young won one too. The viewers clearly looked at the official romance, looked at the two men’s chemistry, and decided there was room for both. (2010 KBS Drama Awards results)

Even Park Min-young’s apparently comfortable male disguise came with a less glamorous reality. She said the looser costume allowed her to sit, lie down and roll around more freely than the princess clothes she had previously worn—but concealing that her character was a woman required binding her body during a very hot summer. So, as usual, even the comfortable historical costume was not actually comfortable. (2010 cast press conference)

None of these facts was why I loved the drama then. We did not start it because Sungkyunkwan was founded in 1398 or because one actor happened to attend its modern descendant. We watched because my younger sister loved TVXQ, because Yoochun was in it, because the story was fun, and because Song Joong-ki walked onto the screen and apparently removed my ability to behave normally.

But that is how a gateway works. You enter for one small reason and discover an entire world waiting behind it.

More than fifteen years later, watching Korean, Chinese and Japanese dramas is part of my ordinary life. I have travelled through dynasties, palaces, schools, hospitals, fantasy kingdoms and an unreasonable number of love triangles. I have watched excellent dramas, terrible dramas and terrible dramas that I enjoyed far more than some excellent ones.

And it all began with my siblings, a TVXQ obsession, a girl dressed as a boy, and the impatient wait for the next episode of Sungkyunkwan Scandal.

On my birthday, my husband took me out. We went to several places and bought quite a lot, but one of our stops was Sephora, where I entered with a very specific mission: I wanted a nice beige-brown lip colour for everyday wear, but it also needed to work like a stain.

I do not like lipsticks that disappear the moment you eat, drink or accidentally touch your face. I am also far too lazy to carry a lipstick around and keep reapplying it every time it comes off. Once I put something on in the morning, I would prefer it to remain there and take care of itself.

I found the first Sephora helper I could and explained exactly what I wanted: a long-lasting lip stain in a colour that would complement my skin. She immediately took me to one that was quite literally a sign pen—or a felt-tip marker pretending to be makeup. I could test it on the back of my hand, but she explained that the tip could not be disinfected for people to try on their lips. So, essentially, trying it was an enter at your own risk situation. No, thank you.

Then she took me to a tiny Haus Labs display that had barely five colours. She picked up Sheer Sienna, a brownish shade of the Haus Labs Atomic Shake High-Shine Longwear Lip Lacquer, and explained that it would feel and look glossy but would not rub off once it had set.

Of course, I took that claim with a large grain of salt.

She recognized the look on my face and offered to swatch it on the back of my hand. It was visibly shiny, so there was absolutely no way it was not going to smear. She blew on it for a few seconds, told me to rub it and—nothing. It did not move.

Then she suggested that I try it on my lips. I wiped off the lipstick I was already wearing and prepared to test Sheer Sienna, which was the entire reason I had come in. But then I noticed Ruby.

Naturally, the original plan immediately went out the window.

I applied Ruby with a disposable applicator and began fanning my lips with my hand. The Sephora helper joined in. Then my son joined in too. So there we were, three people standing in the middle of Sephora, enthusiastically fanning my mouth.

After about twenty seconds, she told me to test it.

I crossed my fingers, leaned down and kissed my son on the cheek.

Nothing.

Not one red mark.

His cheek was completely clean, and I was honestly shocked. That was it—Ruby was coming home with me.

I tried Sheer Sienna next and initially thought, No, this colour is not for me. So I moved on to Sephora’s own collection, which had many more shades. I spent around twenty minutes trying this colour and that colour, hoping one of them would give me the same combination of comfort, shine and staying power. Some promised several hours of wear, but the colours did not do it for me. None of them felt quite like the Haus Labs one either.

Eventually, after all that rigorous and completely necessary testing, I returned to Sheer Sienna.

It turned out to be much better than I had first thought. Ruby was love at first sight; Sheer Sienna was apparently a slow-burn relationship. I walked out of Sephora very happy, carrying both shades.

I have worn them ever since. I did not even leave the house the following day, but I wore Sheer Sienna anyway, simply because I loved how it made me feel. Today, I am wearing Ruby for exactly the same reason.

What I love most is that they do not give me the tight, dry feeling I associate with marker-style lip stains. On my lips, they remain glossy and comfortably moisturized while the colour stays in place. Haus Labs instructs users to shake the bottle, apply a thin layer and keep their lips apart for about fifteen seconds while it sets. That last part matters. On another occasion, I became impatient and kissed my son before it had dried properly, and I did have to wipe his face. So the formula may be impressive, but it cannot protect me from my own impatience.

It is not entirely indestructible either. Vaseline or cleansing oil will remove it, and extremely greasy food—fried chicken or very oily fish and chips, for example—can begin breaking it down. But through ordinary eating, drinking and daily life, it has stayed on me remarkably well.

I paid $40 before tax for each one, so buying both was not a cheap little experiment. It was more than $80 after tax for two lip colours, and I absolutely expected them to perform accordingly. Thankfully, I am genuinely happy with both. Ruby remains my favourite, but Sheer Sienna has already proved me wrong in the best possible way.

My final review? They look glossy, feel comfortable and survive a properly timed kiss on my son’s cheek.

Frankly, that is the only transfer test I really needed.

Today my son starts Grade 1.

Last night, I should have been checking his backpack, preparing his clothes and trying to make the morning feel exciting. Instead, I found myself learning the rules of Ontario’s special education system because I did not understand exactly how my son would be kept safe at school.

Isaac is on the autism spectrum. Academically, I have no concerns about him. Over the summer, he taught himself the Sanskrit, Arabic and Urdu alphabets and number systems. His handwriting has improved tremendously, and he has made incredible progress with conversations and pretend play. But academic ability does not erase disability-related support needs. Isaac still has difficulty recognizing when he is hungry or needs to use the toilet. He has sensory difficulties with cleaning himself, can become distracted while moving between places and does not always recognize physical danger. He has also had difficulties with elopement, although he has made great progress through CHEO URS this summer.

Before speaking to the school, I emailed them everything I wanted to discuss. I asked for photos of his classroom, teachers and hallway so that he could prepare visually. I explained the changes in his transportation needs. I listed the areas I hoped we could address through his IEP: bathroom support, hunger cues, safety awareness, conversations, peer play and daily living skills. I also included his progress and strengths because an IEP should not be a list of everything a child supposedly cannot do.

The school sent me the photos, and they helped. Isaac could see his English teacher and some of the spaces he would be entering. He was still anxious about starting school, but the unknown had become slightly less unknown.

Then I received a phone call.

During that conversation, I understood that there was no capacity for Isaac to have a 1:1 EA, that there would be no EA in his French classroom and that the school was going to wait and see how he managed in Grade 1 before settling his new IEP goals.

I panicked.

What I heard was: There will be no EA in French, and we will wait to see whether he bolts.

That may not have been what the school meant, but it was what I understood. When the subject is your child’s physical safety, “We will see how it goes” is not a sentence that quietly floats away. It sits in your chest and grows teeth.

Normally, I might have called PLEO and spoken to someone who understands the education system. But my son was starting school the next morning. I did not have time to arrange an appointment, gather every document and calmly investigate the entire process.

So I used what I had.

I spoke to AI—both ChatGPT and Gemini.

I know that makes some of you uncomfortable, and honestly, it should come with a warning. AI is not a lawyer, a special education advocate or an official source. It can misunderstand laws, confuse Ontario rules with American ones and state something far too confidently. In fact, some of the initial advice I received was too absolute. It suggested that staffing limitations could never be relevant and came close to implying that Isaac had an automatic legal right to a dedicated EA and a formally titled “Elopement Plan.”

Ontario law does not promise every disabled student a 1:1 EA. It requires the school board to provide appropriate, individualized accommodation that effectively meets the student’s disability-related needs, up to the point of undue hardship. The school may meet those needs through a combination of staff support, routines, environmental changes, transition procedures, equipment and other measures. The law protects the need—not necessarily the parent’s preferred job title or staffing arrangement. (Ontario Human Rights Commission: Appropriate accommodation)

But AI helped me do something I desperately needed in that moment: it helped me slow down, organize my fear and turn it into specific questions.

I did not send an accusation. I sent a request for clarity.

I thanked the school for the phone call and the photos. Then I wrote down what I believed I had heard: no 1:1 EA, no EA in the French classroom and a plan to see how Isaac managed. I explained that because of his history of elopement and difficulty recognizing danger, I was concerned about transitions, bathroom trips and unfamiliar spaces.

Then I asked:

• What supervision and safety measures will be in place during French class and hallway transitions?
• How will his bathroom routine and safety monitoring be managed when dedicated support staff are unavailable?
• When will we meet to review and formalize his IEP and his safety procedures?

That email changed everything—not because it threatened anyone, but because it exposed a misunderstanding.

The reply explained that Isaac would not be alone in the hall. Mrs. Angela would meet him at the van and take him to his morning classroom. An EA would walk him between classes. If he needed the bathroom during French, the EA from his English class would be called to take him. Both classroom doors would have bells, and he would wear his high-visibility vest in the yard. His French class would not have an EA inside it, but the school had still planned support around the times and places where his risk was greatest.

The school also clarified that “waiting to see how things go” referred to observing him before setting his Grade 1 IEP goals—not waiting for a safety incident to occur.

I cannot adequately explain the relief that came from reading those details.

The situation itself had not suddenly transformed. There was still no EA stationed in the French classroom. What changed was that I finally knew the plan. There were names, actions and procedures. I no longer had to fill every blank with the worst possible scenario.

This is why clarity matters.

An IEP Is More Than a Form

In Ontario, an Individual Education Plan, or IEP, is a working document. It can record a student’s strengths and needs, accommodations, special education programs and services, learning expectations, ways of measuring progress, required human support, individualized equipment and transition planning. It should be implemented, monitored and updated as the student’s needs change—not prepared once and then forgotten inside the Ontario Student Record. The Ministry describes it as both a working document and an accountability tool. (Ontario Ministry of Education: What is an IEP?)

Parents must be consulted during the development and review of an IEP, and information about those consultations must be recorded. Parents must also receive a copy of the completed plan. However, consultation does not mean that the parent alone writes the IEP or has an automatic veto over every part of it. The parent’s signature generally records consultation, receipt and comments; it should not be mistaken for a statement that the parent agrees with every word. (Ontario Ministry of Education: Components of the IEP)

For a student formally identified by an Identification, Placement and Review Committee—an IPRC—and placed in a special education program, Ontario Regulation 181/98 requires the principal to ensure that the IEP is completed and sent to the parent within 30 school days of placement. That is not 30 calendar days. Schools may also create IEPs for students who have not been formally identified through an IPRC, but parents should check their board’s special education policy to understand how its process and timelines apply in those cases. (Ontario Regulation 181/98; Ontario Ministry requirements)

Ontario policy also requires transition planning for students from Kindergarten to Grade 12 who have an IEP. “Transition” does not only mean graduating from high school. It can include starting school, changing grades, moving between classrooms or subjects, changing activities and moving from one school or program to another. For a child like Isaac, travelling from English to French, returning from the bathroom and entering a new Grade 1 environment are not insignificant details. They are exactly the kinds of transitions that may need planning. (Ontario Ministry of Education: Support for students with autism)

The Right Is to Accommodation, Not Necessarily a Particular Person

This distinction is important because parents are often told, “There are not enough EAs,” and the conversation ends there.

It should not end there.

Under the Ontario Human Rights Code, education providers have a duty to accommodate disability-related needs up to the point of undue hardship. According to the Ontario Human Rights Commission, only cost, outside sources of funding, and health and safety requirements may be considered when assessing undue hardship. A vague statement that a school has limited resources is not, by itself, proof that accommodation would cause undue hardship. The Commission also says that if the best accommodation cannot be provided immediately, the education provider should consider timely interim measures. (OHRC: Undue hardship standard; OHRC: Accommodation process)

At the same time, this does not mean a parent can demand one particular employee and that the school must agree. The question is whether the plan actually addresses the child’s needs effectively, individually, safely and with dignity.

Instead of asking only, “Will my child have a 1:1 EA?” it may be more useful to ask:

• Who will meet my child when they arrive?
• Who is responsible during each transition?
• What happens if they leave the classroom?
• How will staff know that the door has opened?
• Who accompanies them to the bathroom?
• What happens during recess, lunch, assemblies and field trips?
• What is the backup plan if the usual staff member is absent?
• Where will these arrangements be written?
• Who will review whether they are working, and when?

A school may call the result a safety procedure, risk-management protocol, supervision plan, accommodation plan or something else. There does not appear to be one province-wide rule guaranteeing that an elopement protocol must carry one particular title. What matters most is that known risks are addressed, responsibilities are clear, relevant staff know the procedure and the supports are actually implemented.

Observing a Child Is Not the Same as Withholding Support

The school’s decision to observe Isaac for a few weeks before finalizing his Grade 1 goals was not inherently unreasonable. Grade 1 has different routines, class sizes and expectations from Kindergarten. His teachers need to see his current strengths and needs in that environment if they are going to write useful goals.

But there is an important difference between observing a child so that a working document can be improved and withholding support until the child fails.

Known safety needs do not disappear during an observation period. If a child already has a documented history of elopement, the school should not need a new incident to prove that transition supervision matters. Existing information, previous plans, family input and relevant clinical reports can be used to put immediate or interim measures in place while the new IEP is being developed.

In Isaac’s case, those safety measures already existed. I simply had not understood them from the phone conversation.

That matters too. Sometimes the problem is not that nobody has made a plan. Sometimes the plan exists inside the heads of several adults while the parent is imagining an unguarded door.

A plan that has not been clearly communicated cannot reassure the family. A plan that has not been clearly documented can also be harder for substitute staff or new teachers to follow consistently.

Why I Put Everything in Writing

I write because I forget. I write because spoken conversations move quickly, and anxiety can make it difficult to process what I am hearing. I write because two people can leave the same phone call with completely different understandings of what was said.

Writing an email after a call is not automatically hostile or an attempt to “build a case” against a teacher. It can simply be an external memory.

PLEO’s education-system guide advises parents to keep education documents in chronological order, put school communication in writing, take notes during meetings and send a summary email after phone conversations. It also encourages parents to ask for clarification when they do not understand a term and to write down what they believe they heard so the school can confirm or correct it. (PLEO: Navigating the Education System)

That is almost exactly what happened here.

I wrote, “This is what I understood.” The school replied, “There was a misunderstanding,” and then gave me the missing details. I did not need to start a legal war. I needed to know who was meeting my child at the van.

A useful follow-up email does not need to be aggressive. It can contain four things:

1. What you understood: “During our conversation, I understood that…”
2. Why it matters: “Because my child has difficulty with…, I am concerned about…”
3. What you need clarified: “Could you please explain who will…, what will happen if…, and when we will review…?”
4. The next step: “Please let me know when we can meet or when I can expect the written plan.”

Specific questions are far more useful than “Please make sure my child is safe.” Everyone can agree that safety matters while imagining completely different procedures.

What Parents in Ontario Should Know

If you are entering this process and do not know where to begin, start with your child’s functional needs. A diagnosis can be important, but accommodations should address what the child actually experiences at school: communication, sensory regulation, personal care, transitions, attention, mobility, safety, emotional regulation or access to learning.

Write down your child’s strengths as well as their needs. Bring recent assessments, clinical recommendations, previous IEPs, incident information and strategies that already work. Ask who is responsible for each action and when it will happen. After meetings and calls, send a short factual summary and invite corrections.

Ask for your school board’s parent guide to special education and its special education plan. Every district school board must maintain a plan describing how it provides special education programs and services. Every district school board must also have a Special Education Advisory Committee, or SEAC. SEAC advises the board about special education, although it is not normally the body that decides an individual child’s day-to-day accommodation dispute. (Ontario special education laws and policies; Ontario SEAC information)

If concerns are not resolved, use the board’s chain of communication: classroom teacher or special education teacher, principal, appropriate superintendent, director or board complaints process, and trustee where appropriate. PLEO’s guide similarly recommends starting at the lowest practical level while escalating when necessary.

Parents should also understand the difference between an IEP and an IPRC. An IPRC formally decides whether a student is “exceptional” under Ontario’s education system and determines placement. A parent can request an IPRC in writing, and the principal cannot simply refuse that request. Within 15 days, the principal must acknowledge it, provide the board’s parent guide and give an approximate meeting date. Parents may attend and participate.

If a parent disagrees with the IPRC’s identification or placement decision, they may request a second meeting within 15 days or file an appeal within 30 days of receiving the original decision. After a second meeting, the appeal deadline is 15 days from receiving that decision. Those formal appeal rights concern IPRC identification and placement; they are not a general appeal process for every disagreement about wording or services in an IEP. (Ontario IPRC process; Ontario IPRC appeal guide)

Where a family believes disability-related needs are not being accommodated, the Ontario Human Rights Code may also apply. The Human Rights Legal Support Centre provides free legal information and support to people in Ontario who have experienced discrimination and may be considering an application to the Human Rights Tribunal of Ontario. That is a legal route, not usually the first email to send when a clarification may solve the problem, but parents should know the resource exists. (Human Rights Legal Support Centre)

Education is governed provincially, so parents outside Ontario should check their own province or territory’s education legislation, human-rights law and special-education process rather than assuming Ontario’s timelines apply across Canada.

Using AI Without Handing It Your Judgment

I am glad I used AI today.

I am also glad I did not treat its first answer as law.

AI helped me organize information, make my email less emotional and identify questions I had not thought to ask. It gave me language when anxiety had taken mine away. But its claims still needed to be checked against Ontario’s regulations, Ministry guidance and human-rights policy.

If you use AI for something similar, you can ask it to:

• organize your notes before a meeting;
• turn your concerns into specific, respectful questions;
• summarize a phone conversation;
• draft a follow-up email;
• explain unfamiliar terms in plain language;
• locate possible official sources for you to verify; or
• compare what the school said with what is written in the current IEP.

Do not rely on it to tell you definitively what the law guarantees. Ask for sources, open those sources yourself and check that they apply to your province, school system and current year. Remove unnecessary personal information before entering it into any online tool, especially medical, identifying or school information about a child. For urgent or unresolved legal concerns, speak to an appropriate advocate or lawyer.

AI did not advocate for Isaac today.

I did.

AI helped me arrange the words, but I knew my son. I knew which risks mattered. I decided what to send, and the school responded with the information I needed.

What Clarity Gave Us

After receiving the school’s explanation, I wrote back and thanked them. I said that hearing the specific measures—being met at the van, accompanied during transitions and bathroom trips, bells on the classroom doors and the high-visibility vest—gave me peace of mind. I also said I understood why they wanted a few weeks to observe his adjustment before finalizing his Grade 1 goals.

That was not me backing down.

That was the problem being clarified.

Advocacy does not always end in a fight. Sometimes it ends with everyone realizing that the same sentence meant two completely different things to the people in the conversation.

I do not want parents to feel that they must arrive at every meeting ready for battle. Teachers and school staff are often trying to help while working inside a complicated and strained system. I also do not want parents—especially overwhelmed, disabled or newcomer parents—to believe they must quietly accept language they do not understand because the professionals in the room appear more confident.

You are allowed to say, “I do not understand.”

You are allowed to ask, “Who will do that?”

You are allowed to ask, “When?”

You are allowed to request the answer in writing.

You are allowed to read the document, take it home, think, ask more questions and seek help before deciding what you believe.

I sent Isaac to Grade 1 still carrying the ordinary fear that comes with sending your child somewhere you cannot follow. No email can remove that completely. But now I know who will meet him, who will walk with him and what will happen when he needs the bathroom.

Tonight, that clarity is enough to let me breathe.

This article provides general information about Ontario’s publicly funded education and human-rights systems. It is not legal advice. Policies and procedures can vary by school board and may change over time.

Today is my birthday.

We went to the Rideau Centre in Ottawa, and my husband made the entire day about me. I bought books: an Avatar Kyoshi collection, four volumes of The Apothecary Diaries light novels, and a hardcover copy of Dawnshard. I got the Dumbledore’s Office LEGO set, a bunch of Medicube skincare products and several other things.

It was not cheap. I am quite sure my husband is now out a large sum of money.

But for once, I think I accepted it without feeling guilty.

Usually, receiving gifts comes with an uncomfortable calculation in my head. Did this cost too much? Do I deserve it? Have I done enough to earn it? Should I have asked for less? This time, however, I let my husband buy things for me because he wanted to. I let the day be about me without immediately trying to make myself smaller.

I think I am slowly unlearning some of the things my parents instilled in me. But that is another piece, another day and, most likely, another headache.

So why am I telling you everything I bought?

Because while I was busy choosing my books, LEGO and skincare products, my son found the Rubik’s Cubes.

That is what he does. Wherever we go, if there are Rubik’s Cubes, he will find them. He has the regular 3×3 cube, a magnetic one, a light-up one, a spongy one, an easy-spin one, a glass one, a 2×2, a 4×4 and a 5×5. I may even be forgetting a few.

It is not as if he did not want more. There were many other kinds in the store. But that iccha—that desire to find another version of the thing he already loves—was there immediately.

I understand that feeling. I collect books and LEGO. He collects LEGO because he has watched me do it, but Rubik’s Cubes are very much his own thing. He does not simply want the same cube repeatedly. He wants to explore all the ways a cube can be different: the size, texture, movement, resistance, mechanics, colours and even the way it feels in his hands.

Watching him made me wonder: why do we collect things? Is it just a normal human habit, or is it something more common among autistic children and adults? Why does one person collect cubes, another books, another stones and another little bits of paper that look completely meaningless to everyone else?

And why did I not collect anything as a child?

Why Do People Collect Things?

At its simplest, collecting turns many separate objects into one meaningful thing.

One Rubik’s Cube is a puzzle. Nine different Rubik’s Cubes are a collection. Once they are placed together, we begin comparing them: which one is bigger, faster, smoother, harder, stranger or more satisfying? We notice patterns and differences. We arrange them. We learn about them. We begin to understand a small part of the world in greater detail.

Research involving children suggests that collections can support sorting, categorization and the development of knowledge about objects. Children do not always collect because they understand financial value or because they are trying to build an impressive display. Sometimes they simply find a group of objects interesting and want to examine how those objects belong together—or how they differ from one another. In one study of young children’s spontaneous collections, the researchers found that collecting was connected to children’s growing understanding of categories and their ability to talk about the items they had gathered. (McAlister and Cornwell, 2010)

That makes sense when I look at my son’s cubes. A glass cube and a spongy cube both belong to the same category, but touching them produces completely different experiences. A 2×2 cube and a 5×5 cube follow related ideas, but they demand different levels of planning. He is not merely accumulating objects. He is exploring one concept in every form he can find.

A collection can also become part of a person’s identity. It says, This is something I notice. This is something I understand. This is my thing. In a world where children make very few of their own decisions, choosing what belongs in a collection gives them a small area of authority.

Of course, not every collection needs to be educational, productive or useful. Sometimes people collect things simply because those things make them happy. That is enough.

Is Collecting an Autistic Trait?

Collecting is not exclusive to autistic people, and having a collection does not mean that a child or adult is autistic. Neurotypical children collect cards, rocks, stickers, shells, toys, leaves, bottle caps and all kinds of wonderfully random things.

Autistic people, however, may experience interests with unusual depth or intensity. The diagnostic criteria for autism include highly restricted or fixated interests that may be intense in focus, and research describes how these interests can occupy an important place in an autistic person’s daily life. (CDC diagnostic criteria; review of restricted interests in autistic youth)

That does not automatically make the interest unhealthy. Studies involving autistic adults have found that special interests can be connected to positive emotions, wellbeing and a sense of purpose. They may help a person learn, regulate emotions, connect with other people or build expertise. (Grove et al., 2018)

For one autistic person, collecting may be about completing a set. For another, it may be about arranging objects in a satisfying order. Someone else may be drawn to the visual patterns, texture, history, mechanics or predictable rules surrounding the objects.

In my son’s case, Rubik’s Cubes offer quite a lot at once: colour, movement, repetition, logic, problem-solving and different tactile experiences. But I cannot look at his collection and declare exactly what it means to him. Only he can gradually show or tell me that.

The collection itself is not a diagnosis. It is an interest. The intensity, function and broader context matter more than the fact that he owns several cubes.

There is also an important difference between collecting and hoarding. A collection is usually selected, organized and meaningful to the collector. Hoarding disorder involves persistent difficulty discarding possessions, distress connected to letting them go and clutter that interferes with the safe use of living spaces. They are not interchangeable ideas. (American Psychiatric Association)

My son wanting another variation of a puzzle he loves is not, by itself, a problem that needs to be corrected. The important questions are much simpler: Is the collection safe? Can we afford the new item? Is there somewhere to keep it? Does the interest bring him joy without preventing him from meeting his other needs?

Supporting an interest does not mean buying everything he sees. I can say, “Not today,” without mocking the thing he loves. I can help him make a wish list, save for something special or choose between two cubes. A boundary does not have to become shame.

Why Didn’t I Collect Things as a Child?

I know that collecting does not necessarily require money. Children collect rocks, leaves, shells, wrappers, bottle caps and scraps of paper. A collection can cost absolutely nothing.

But where would I have kept any of it?

I did not have a cabinet, drawer, shelf or little corner to call my own. We shared a bed with everyone. Some nights, we did not even get pillows to sleep on. There was no dependable physical space where I could place something and think, This is mine. I can leave it here, and it will still be mine tomorrow.

Even my own body did not feel like it belonged to me. I was touched, poked and handled without my permission. My discomfort did not create a boundary that other people felt required to respect.

So yes, children can collect rocks for free. But collecting still requires somewhere to keep the rocks. More than that, it requires some understanding of ownership. It requires the experience of having something—whether that is an object, a shelf, a bed, a pillow or your own body—and knowing that other people will respect that it belongs to you.

I did not have that.

We were also told that we had to behave well to earn a second piece of meat at dinner. That second piece never came, by the way. When even food and basic comfort feel conditional, wanting something unnecessary simply because it brings you joy does not feel innocent. It feels greedy. It feels dangerous. It feels like asking for something you have no right to claim.

That is why I did not collect things as a child. It was not because I lacked curiosity or because nobody had told me that leaves and stones were free. I had no territory—not even the territory of my own body—in which the word mine could safely exist.

Research can describe how material deprivation, instability and unsafe environments affect children. But I do not need research to tell me whether I had a cabinet, a pillow or bodily autonomy.

I remember.

The Safety to Want Something

This is where a small Rubik’s Cube becomes much more than a toy to me.

My son can walk into a shop, find something fascinating and say, “I want this one.” I may buy it, or I may tell him we cannot buy it today. But he is still allowed to want it. His desire is not treated as evidence that he is greedy, spoiled or ungrateful.

If we bring the cube home, he can place it beside the others and reasonably expect it to remain there. He has space for his belongings. He has space for his interests. He has the security of knowing that something can be his without constantly having to earn the right to keep it.

Most importantly, he is learning that his body, his comfort and his boundaries also belong to him.

That does not mean I never touch him without asking. I am still his mother, and sometimes I have to help him get dressed, brush his hair, apply medicine or move him away from danger. Parenting sometimes requires doing things a child may not enjoy. But I can explain what I am doing. I can listen when he says something hurts or feels uncomfortable. I can avoid unnecessary touching, poking and teasing. I can treat his distress as information instead of disrespect.

I can teach him that mine is a word he is allowed to use.

His body is his. His room has spaces that are his. His collections are his. His thoughts and interests are his. Other people do not receive unlimited access simply because they are older or related to him.

I did not have that certainty as a child. I am trying to give it to him now.

What His Collection Is Teaching Me

My son’s Rubik’s Cubes are teaching me that wanting variations of the same thing is not pointless. His glass cube, magnetic cube and spongy cube may look repetitive to someone else, but he sees differences worth exploring.

They are also teaching me that a child should not have to justify every source of harmless joy. He does not need to turn his collection into a career, win competitions or prove that every cube improves his intelligence. He is allowed to love them because he loves them.

I am learning the same lesson very slowly.

I do not need to justify every book by promising to become wiser after reading it. I do not need to explain that LEGO improves concentration. I do not have to prove that skincare is a medical necessity before I am allowed to enjoy it. Not everything I own needs to earn back its cost through productivity.

Sometimes a book is just a book I wanted.

Sometimes LEGO is simply fun.

Sometimes a Rubik’s Cube is worth bringing home because it spins differently from all the others.

And sometimes a husband can buy his wife far too many birthday gifts because he loves her, and she can accept them without turning that love into a debt she must immediately repay.

A Different Kind of Inheritance

I model collecting for my son. He has seen my books and LEGO, and perhaps that has shown him that it is safe to care deeply about something. But he is teaching me something too.

He is showing me what interest looks like when it is not immediately followed by shame.

He sees a cube. His eyes light up. He picks it up and examines it. He wants to know how it moves and how it differs from the cubes he already owns. He does not first ask himself whether wanting it makes him a bad person.

I hope that part stays with him.

I hope he learns to manage money, space and consumption responsibly. I hope he understands that he cannot own every cube ever made. But I never want him to confuse responsible limits with the belief that wanting something is shameful.

There is a difference between saying, “We cannot buy this today,” and saying, “Why do you always want things?”

There is a difference between teaching moderation and teaching a child that joy must be earned.

There is a difference between helping a child organize their belongings and making them feel that nothing is truly theirs.

Today, my husband gave me books, LEGO and skincare products. My son chose another Rubik’s Cube. From the outside, perhaps it looked like nothing more than a family spending too much money at a mall.

But something else happened too.

I accepted being celebrated without drowning in guilt. My son expressed what he wanted without fear. He brought home another little piece of the world he is trying to understand, and he placed it with the other pieces that belong to him.

To someone else, that may look ordinary.

To me, it is the childhood security I now understand I never had.

Perhaps that is what we are really collecting in this family—not merely books, LEGO sets or Rubik’s Cubes, but small pieces of safety. Proof that we are allowed to want things, love things, keep things and make room for ourselves.

Proof that mine does not have to be a dangerous word.

আজ আমার birthday।

আমরা Ottawa-র Rideau Centre-এ গিয়েছিলাম, আর আমার husband পুরো দিনটাকে শুধু আমার জন্য special করে তুলেছিল। আমি অনেকগুলো বই কিনেছি—একটা Avatar Kyoshi collection, The Apothecary Diaries light novel-এর চারটা volume আর Dawnshard-এর hardcover edition। Dumbledore’s Office LEGO set কিনেছি, একগাদা Medicube skincare product নিয়েছি, সঙ্গে আরও টুকটাক কত কী।

সস্তা ছিল না কিছুই। আমি মোটামুটি নিশ্চিত, আজকের পর আমার husband-এর bank account থেকে বেশ বড় অঙ্কের টাকা বিদায় নিয়েছে।

কিন্তু এবার মনে হয় আমি কোনো guilt ছাড়াই সবকিছু নিতে পেরেছি।

সাধারণত কেউ আমাকে gift দিলে আমার মাথার ভেতর সঙ্গে সঙ্গে একটা অস্বস্তিকর হিসাব শুরু হয়ে যায়। এত টাকা খরচ করার কী দরকার ছিল? আমি কি আসলেই এটা deserve করি? এই gift পাওয়ার মতো যথেষ্ট কিছু কি আমি করেছি? আমার কি আরও কম চাওয়া উচিত ছিল? কিন্তু এবার আমার husband আমার জন্য জিনিস কিনতে চেয়েছে বলে আমি তাকে কিনতে দিয়েছি। দিনটা আমার জন্য ছিল, আর আমি সঙ্গে সঙ্গে নিজেকে ছোট করে সেটার গুরুত্ব কমানোর চেষ্টা করিনি।

মনে হয়, আমার parents আমার ভেতরে যেসব জিনিস ঢুকিয়ে দিয়েছিল, সেগুলোর কিছু কিছু আমি আস্তে আস্তে unlearn করছি। কিন্তু সেটা অন্য আরেকটা লেখা, অন্য আরেকটা দিনের কথা এবং খুব সম্ভবত অন্য আরেক দিনের মাথাব্যথা।

তাহলে আমি কী কী কিনেছি, সেসব আপনাদের এত বিস্তারিত বলছি কেন?

কারণ আমি যখন আমার বই, LEGO আর skincare product বেছে নিতে ব্যস্ত, তখন আমার ছেলে খুঁজে বের করেছিল Rubik’s Cube-এর section।

ও সব জায়গায় এটাই করে। আমরা যেখানেই যাই, সেখানে Rubik’s Cube থাকলে ও ঠিক খুঁজে বের করবে। ওর কাছে regular 3×3 cube আছে, magnetic cube আছে, light-up cube, spongy cube, easy-spin cube, glass cube, 2×2, 4×4 আর 5×5 cube-ও আছে। সম্ভবত আরও কয়েকটা আছে, যেগুলোর কথা এই মুহূর্তে আমার মনে পড়ছে না।

এমন না যে ও আর নিতে চায়নি। দোকানে আরও অনেক রকমের cube ছিল। কিন্তু ওই ইচ্ছা—যে জিনিসটা ও আগে থেকেই ভালোবাসে, সেটার আরেকটা নতুন version খুঁজে পাওয়ার ইচ্ছা—সেটা সঙ্গে সঙ্গেই ওর মধ্যে জেগে উঠেছিল।

আমি এই অনুভূতিটা বুঝি। আমি বই আর LEGO collect করি। আমাকে দেখে ও-ও LEGO collect করা শুরু করেছে। কিন্তু Rubik’s Cube একেবারেই ওর নিজের জিনিস। ও শুধু একই রকম cube বারবার কিনতে চায় না। একটা cube কতভাবে আলাদা হতে পারে, ও যেন তার প্রতিটা version explore করতে চায়—size, texture, movement, resistance, mechanics, colour, এমনকি হাতে ধরলে কেমন লাগে সেটাও।

ওকে দেখে আমার মনে প্রশ্ন এলো: আমরা জিনিস collect করি কেন? এটা কি মানুষের একদম স্বাভাবিক একটা অভ্যাস, নাকি autistic শিশু আর adult-দের মধ্যে বেশি দেখা যায়? কেন কেউ cube collect করে, কেউ বই, কেউ পাথর, আবার কেউ এমন সব ছোট কাগজের টুকরা জমায় যেগুলো অন্য সবার কাছে একেবারেই অর্থহীন মনে হয়?

আর আমি নিজে ছোটবেলায় কিছু collect করিনি কেন?

মানুষ জিনিস Collect করে কেন?

খুব সহজভাবে বললে, collection অনেকগুলো আলাদা জিনিসকে একসঙ্গে এনে একটা অর্থপূর্ণ জিনিসে পরিণত করে।

একটা Rubik’s Cube শুধু একটা puzzle। কিন্তু নয়টা আলাদা Rubik’s Cube মিলে একটা collection। একসঙ্গে রাখার পর আমরা সেগুলোর মধ্যে তুলনা করতে শুরু করি—কোনটা বড়, কোনটা দ্রুত ঘোরে, কোনটা smooth, কোনটা বেশি কঠিন, কোনটা অদ্ভুত আর কোনটা হাতে ধরলে সবচেয়ে satisfying লাগে। আমরা তাদের মধ্যে pattern আর পার্থক্য খুঁজি। সাজিয়ে রাখি। সেগুলো নিয়ে শিখি। এভাবে পৃথিবীর খুব ছোট একটা অংশকে আমরা অনেক গভীরভাবে বুঝতে শুরু করি।

শিশুদের নিয়ে করা কিছু research থেকে বোঝা যায়, collection বানানো তাদের sorting, categorization এবং বিভিন্ন object সম্পর্কে জ্ঞান গড়ে তুলতে সাহায্য করতে পারে। শিশুরা সব সময় কোনো জিনিসের financial value বোঝে বলে বা সবাইকে দেখানোর মতো সুন্দর display বানাতে চায় বলে collection করে না। কখনো কখনো তারা কিছু জিনিসকে শুধু interesting মনে করে এবং জানতে চায়, জিনিসগুলো কীভাবে একই category-তে পড়ে অথবা একে অন্যের থেকে কীভাবে আলাদা। ছোট শিশুদের নিজেদের ইচ্ছায় বানানো collection নিয়ে করা একটি study-তে researchers দেখেছেন, collection-এর সঙ্গে শিশুদের category বোঝা এবং নিজেদের জমানো জিনিস নিয়ে কথা বলার ক্ষমতার একটি সম্পর্ক রয়েছে। (McAlister and Cornwell, 2010)

আমার ছেলের cube-গুলো দেখলে কথাটা বেশ বোঝা যায়। একটা glass cube আর একটা spongy cube একই category-র জিনিস, কিন্তু দুটো ছুঁলে একেবারেই আলাদা experience হয়। 2×2 আর 5×5 cube একই ধরনের logic অনুসরণ করলেও solve করতে আলাদা রকম planning দরকার। ও শুধু অনেকগুলো জিনিস এক জায়গায় জমাচ্ছে না। একটা concept কত রকমভাবে তৈরি হতে পারে, ও যেন তার প্রতিটা দিক explore করছে।

একটা collection একজন মানুষের identity-র অংশও হয়ে উঠতে পারে। এটা যেন বলে, এই জিনিসটা আমি খেয়াল করি। এই জিনিসটা আমি বুঝি। এটা আমার thing। শিশুরা এমন একটা পৃথিবীতে থাকে যেখানে বেশির ভাগ সিদ্ধান্তই বড়রা নেয়। তাই নিজের collection-এ কোন জিনিসটা থাকবে, সেটা বেছে নিতে পারা তাদের জীবনে ছোট্ট একটা জায়গা তৈরি করে যেখানে সিদ্ধান্ত নেওয়ার ক্ষমতা তাদের নিজের।

তবে প্রতিটা collection-কে educational, productive বা useful হতেই হবে—এমন কোনো কথা নেই। কখনো কখনো মানুষ জিনিস collect করে শুধু সেগুলো তাকে আনন্দ দেয় বলে।

সেটাই যথেষ্ট।

Collection করা কি Autistic Trait?

Collection করা শুধু autistic মানুষদের বিষয় নয়। কোনো শিশু বা adult-এর collection থাকলেই সে autistic—এমন সিদ্ধান্ত নেওয়া যায় না। Neurotypical শিশুরাও card, পাথর, sticker, shell, toy, পাতা, bottle cap এবং আরও কত অদ্ভুত সুন্দর জিনিস collect করে।

তবে autistic মানুষ অনেক সময় কোনো interest-কে অন্য রকম গভীরতা আর intensity নিয়ে অনুভব করতে পারে। Autism-এর diagnostic criteria-তে খুব focused বা fixated interest-এর কথা বলা আছে, যা অন্যদের তুলনায় intensity বা focus-এর দিক থেকে আলাদা হতে পারে। Research-এও দেখা যায়, এই interests একজন autistic মানুষের দৈনন্দিন জীবনে খুব গুরুত্বপূর্ণ জায়গা নিতে পারে। (CDC diagnostic criteria; autistic শিশুদের restricted interest নিয়ে review)

তার মানে এই নয় যে intense interest হলেই সেটা unhealthy। Autistic adult-দের নিয়ে করা research-এ special interest-এর সঙ্গে positive emotion, wellbeing এবং জীবনের purpose খুঁজে পাওয়ার সম্পর্ক দেখা গেছে। Special interest একজন মানুষকে নতুন কিছু শিখতে, নিজের emotions regulate করতে, অন্যদের সঙ্গে connect করতে অথবা কোনো বিষয়ে expertise তৈরি করতে সাহায্য করতে পারে। (Grove et al., 2018)

একজন autistic মানুষের কাছে collection হয়তো একটা পুরো set complete করার বিষয়। আরেকজনের কাছে জিনিসগুলো satisfying order-এ সাজিয়ে রাখাটাই মূল আনন্দ। অন্য কেউ হয়তো object-গুলোর visual pattern, texture, history, mechanics বা predictable rules-এর প্রতি বেশি আকৃষ্ট হয়।

আমার ছেলের Rubik’s Cube-গুলো একসঙ্গে অনেক কিছু দেয়—colour, movement, repetition, logic, problem-solving এবং আলাদা আলাদা tactile experience। কিন্তু শুধু ওর collection দেখে আমি ঘোষণা করতে পারি না, এর কোন দিকটা ওর কাছে সবচেয়ে গুরুত্বপূর্ণ। সময়ের সঙ্গে ও নিজেই হয়তো আমাকে সেটা বলবে বা দেখাবে।

Collection নিজে কোনো diagnosis নয়। এটা একটা interest। Interest-টা কতটা intense, ওর জীবনে কী কাজ করছে এবং তার সঙ্গে আর কী কী বিষয় আছে—সেগুলো শুধু কয়েকটা cube থাকার চেয়ে অনেক বেশি গুরুত্বপূর্ণ।

Collecting আর hoarding-এর মধ্যেও গুরুত্বপূর্ণ পার্থক্য আছে। একটা collection সাধারণত বেছে নেওয়া, organized এবং collector-এর কাছে অর্থপূর্ণ। অন্যদিকে, Hoarding Disorder-এ মানুষ কোনো জিনিস ফেলে দিতে খুব কষ্ট পায়, সেগুলো ছাড়তে গেলে তীব্র distress অনুভব করে এবং এত জিনিস জমে যায় যে ঘরের জায়গাগুলো স্বাভাবিক ও নিরাপদভাবে ব্যবহার করা কঠিন হয়ে পড়ে। দুটো এক বিষয় নয়। (American Psychiatric Association)

আমার ছেলে ওর পছন্দের puzzle-এর আরেকটা version চাইছে—শুধু এই কারণে এটাকে এমন কোনো problem বানানোর দরকার নেই, যা ঠিক করে দিতে হবে। আসল প্রশ্নগুলো অনেক সহজ: Collection-টা কি safe? নতুন জিনিসটা কেনার সামর্থ্য কি আমাদের আছে? রাখার জায়গা আছে? Interest-টা কি ওকে আনন্দ দিচ্ছে, পাশাপাশি ওর অন্য প্রয়োজনগুলোও কি ঠিকমতো পূরণ হচ্ছে?

কোনো interest support করার মানে এই নয় যে ও যা চাইবে, তার সবকিছুই কিনে দিতে হবে। আমি ওকে অপমান না করেও বলতে পারি, “আজকে এটা কেনা হবে না।” আমরা একটা wish list বানাতে পারি, special কোনো cube-এর জন্য টাকা জমাতে পারি অথবা দুটোর মধ্যে একটা বেছে নিতে বলতে পারি।

Boundary তৈরি করতে গিয়ে শিশুকে shame দেওয়ার প্রয়োজন নেই।

আমি ছোটবেলায় কিছু Collect করিনি কেন?

আমি জানি, collection করার জন্য সব সময় টাকা লাগে না। শিশুরা পাথর, পাতা, ঝিনুক, wrapper, bottle cap আর কাগজের টুকরাও জমায়। একটা collection বানাতে এক টাকাও খরচ না হতে পারে।

কিন্তু আমি সেগুলো রাখতাম কোথায়?

আমার নিজের কোনো cabinet, drawer, shelf বা ছোট্ট corner ছিল না। আমরা সবাই মিলে একই বিছানায় ঘুমাতাম। কোনো কোনো রাতে ঘুমানোর জন্য pillow-ও পেতাম না। এমন কোনো নির্ভরযোগ্য জায়গা ছিল না, যেখানে কিছু রেখে আমি ভাবতে পারতাম, এটা আমার। আমি এটা এখানে রেখে যেতে পারি, আর আগামীকালও এটা আমারই থাকবে।

এমনকি আমার নিজের শরীরটাও আমার বলে মনে হতো না। আমার permission ছাড়াই আমাকে ছোঁয়া হতো, খোঁচা দেওয়া হতো, ইচ্ছামতো ধরে নাড়াচাড়া করা হতো। আমি uncomfortable হলেই অন্যরা মনে করত না যে সেখানে এমন কোনো boundary তৈরি হয়েছে, যেটা তাদের respect করতে হবে।

হ্যাঁ, শিশুরা বিনা পয়সায় পাথর collect করতে পারে। কিন্তু সেই পাথরগুলো রাখার জন্যও একটা জায়গা দরকার। তার চেয়েও বেশি দরকার ownership বলতে কী বোঝায়, সেই অভিজ্ঞতা। একটা জিনিস, একটা shelf, একটা বিছানা, একটা pillow কিংবা নিজের শরীর—কোনো কিছু আমার হলে অন্যরা সেটাকে আমার বলে respect করবে, এই নিশ্চয়তা দরকার।

আমার সেটা ছিল না।

আমাদের এটাও বলা হতো যে ভালো আচরণ করলে dinner-এ দ্বিতীয় piece meat দেওয়া হবে। সেই দ্বিতীয় piece কখনো আসেনি, বলে রাখি। যখন খাবার আর basic comfort-ও conditional মনে হয়, তখন প্রয়োজন নেই অথচ শুধু আনন্দ দেয়—এমন কিছু চাওয়া আর innocent মনে হয় না। লোভী মনে হয়। বিপজ্জনক মনে হয়। মনে হয়, এমন কিছু চাওয়া হচ্ছে যেটা দাবি করার কোনো অধিকারই আপনার নেই।

এই কারণেই আমি ছোটবেলায় কিছু collect করিনি। আমার curiosity ছিল না বলে নয়। পাতা আর পাথর যে free, সেটা কেউ আমাকে বলেনি বলেও নয়। আমার কোনো নিজস্ব territory ছিল না—এমনকি নিজের শরীরটুকুও না—যেখানে আমার শব্দটা safely থাকতে পারত।

Research আমাদের বলতে পারে material deprivation, instability আর unsafe environment কীভাবে শিশুদের প্রভাবিত করে। কিন্তু আমার cabinet, pillow বা bodily autonomy ছিল কি না, সেটা জানার জন্য আমার research প্রয়োজন নেই।

আমার মনে আছে।

কোনো কিছু চাওয়ার মতো নিরাপত্তা

এখানেই একটা ছোট Rubik’s Cube আমার কাছে শুধু একটা toy-এর চেয়ে অনেক বেশি কিছু হয়ে ওঠে।

আমার ছেলে দোকানে ঢুকে fascinating কিছু দেখে বলতে পারে, “আমি এটা চাই।” আমি হয়তো সেটা কিনে দেব, অথবা বলব আজকে কেনা সম্ভব নয়। কিন্তু ওর চাওয়ার অধিকারটা থাকবে। ও কিছু চেয়েছে বলে তাকে greedy, spoiled বা ungrateful বানিয়ে দেওয়া হবে না।

Cube-টা বাড়িতে আনলে ও সেটাকে নিজের অন্য cube-গুলোর পাশে রেখে মোটামুটি নিশ্চিত থাকতে পারে যে পরে এসেও ওটা সেখানেই পাবে। নিজের জিনিস রাখার জায়গা ওর আছে। নিজের interest রাখার জায়গা আছে। কোনো কিছু নিজের কাছে রাখতে হলে বারবার সেটার যোগ্যতা প্রমাণ করতে হবে না—এই security ওর আছে।

সবচেয়ে গুরুত্বপূর্ণ বিষয় হলো, ও শিখছে ওর শরীর, comfort আর boundaries-ও ওর নিজের।

তার মানে এই নয় যে আমি ওকে ছোঁয়ার আগে সব সময় permission নিই। আমি এখনো ওর মা। কখনো ওকে পোশাক পরাতে হয়, চুল আঁচড়ে দিতে হয়, medicine লাগাতে হয় অথবা বিপদ থেকে সরিয়ে আনতে হয়। Parenting করতে গেলে মাঝেমধ্যে এমন কিছু করতেই হয়, যেটা শিশুর ভালো লাগে না। কিন্তু আমি কী করছি, সেটা ওকে বুঝিয়ে বলতে পারি। ও কোনো কিছুতে ব্যথা পাচ্ছে বা uncomfortable বোধ করছে বললে আমি শুনতে পারি। অপ্রয়োজনীয়ভাবে ওকে ছোঁয়া, খোঁচা দেওয়া বা tease করা এড়িয়ে চলতে পারি। ওর distress-কে disrespect না ভেবে information হিসেবে নিতে পারি।

আমি ওকে শেখাতে পারি যে আমার এমন একটা শব্দ, যেটা বলার অধিকার ওর আছে।

ওর শরীর ওর নিজের। ওর room-এর কিছু জায়গা ওর নিজের। ওর collections ওর। ওর চিন্তা আর interests ওর। কেউ বয়সে বড় অথবা আত্মীয় হলেই ওর ওপর unlimited access পেয়ে যায় না।

ছোটবেলায় আমার এই নিশ্চয়তা ছিল না। এখন আমি আমার ছেলেকে সেটা দেওয়ার চেষ্টা করছি।

ওর Collection আমাকে কী শেখাচ্ছে

আমার ছেলের Rubik’s Cube-গুলো আমাকে শেখাচ্ছে, একই জিনিসের বিভিন্ন version চাওয়াটা pointless নয়। ওর glass cube, magnetic cube আর spongy cube অন্য কারও কাছে একই জিনিসের repetition মনে হতে পারে। কিন্তু ওর চোখে সেগুলোর মধ্যে explore করার মতো গুরুত্বপূর্ণ পার্থক্য আছে।

এগুলো আমাকে আরও শেখাচ্ছে যে harmless আনন্দের প্রতিটা উৎসকে justify করার দায়িত্ব একটা শিশুর থাকা উচিত নয়। Collection-টাকে ওর career বানাতে হবে না। Competition জিততে হবে না। প্রতিটা cube ওর intelligence বাড়াচ্ছে—এমন প্রমাণও দিতে হবে না। ও cube ভালোবাসে বলেই সেগুলো ভালোবাসতে পারে।

আমি নিজেও খুব আস্তে আস্তে একই জিনিস শিখছি।

প্রতিটা বই কিনে আমাকে প্রমাণ করতে হবে না যে বইটা পড়ে আমি আরও জ্ঞানী হয়ে যাব। LEGO concentration বাড়ায়—এমন explanation দেওয়ারও দরকার নেই। Skincare enjoy করার আগে এটাকে medical necessity প্রমাণ করতে হবে না। আমার প্রতিটা জিনিসকে productivity দিয়ে নিজের দাম ফেরত দিতে হবে না।

কখনো একটা বই শুধু এমন একটা বই, যেটা আমি চেয়েছিলাম।

কখনো LEGO শুধুই মজার।

কখনো একটা Rubik’s Cube বাড়িতে আনার মতো গুরুত্বপূর্ণ, কারণ এটা অন্য সব cube-এর চেয়ে একটু অন্যভাবে ঘোরে।

আর কখনো একজন husband তার wife-কে birthday-তে একটু বেশিই gift দিতে পারে, শুধু সে তাকে ভালোবাসে বলে। Wife-টাও সেই ভালোবাসাকে এমন কোনো debt না বানিয়ে gift-গুলো নিতে পারে, যা সঙ্গে সঙ্গে শোধ করতে হবে।

অন্য রকম এক Inheritance

আমি আমার ছেলের সামনে collecting model করেছি। ও আমার বই আর LEGO দেখেছে। হয়তো সেখান থেকে ও শিখেছে, কোনো কিছুকে গভীরভাবে ভালোবাসা safe। কিন্তু ও-ও আমাকে কিছু শেখাচ্ছে।

ও আমাকে দেখাচ্ছে, কোনো interest-এর সঙ্গে সঙ্গে shame না এলে সেটা দেখতে কেমন হয়।

ও একটা cube দেখে। ওর চোখ জ্বলে ওঠে। ও সেটা হাতে নিয়ে ভালো করে পরীক্ষা করে। কীভাবে ঘোরে, আগে থেকে থাকা cube-গুলোর চেয়ে এটা কীভাবে আলাদা—সব বুঝতে চায়। কিছু চাওয়ার অর্থ ও একজন খারাপ মানুষ—এই প্রশ্নটা ও আগে নিজেকে করে না।

আমি আশা করি, ওর এই অংশটা সব সময় থেকে যাবে।

আমি চাই, ও টাকা, জায়গা আর নিজের কেনাকাটা responsibly manage করতে শিখুক। আমি চাই, ও বুঝুক যে পৃথিবীতে তৈরি হওয়া প্রতিটা cube ওর পক্ষে কেনা সম্ভব নয়। কিন্তু responsible limit আর কোনো কিছু চাওয়াই shameful—এই দুই জিনিসকে আমি কখনোই ওর কাছে এক করে দিতে চাই না।

“আজকে এটা কেনা সম্ভব নয়” আর “তুমি সব সময় এত কিছু চাও কেন?”—এই দুই কথার মধ্যে পার্থক্য আছে।

Moderation শেখানো আর আনন্দ পাওয়ার অধিকারও earn করতে হবে—এমন ধারণা শেখানোর মধ্যে পার্থক্য আছে।

একটা শিশুকে নিজের জিনিস গুছিয়ে রাখতে সাহায্য করা আর কোনো কিছুই সত্যি তার নিজের নয়—এমন অনুভূতি দেওয়ার মধ্যেও পার্থক্য আছে।

আজ আমার husband আমাকে বই, LEGO আর skincare product দিয়েছে। আমার ছেলে আরেকটা Rubik’s Cube বেছে নিয়েছে। বাইরে থেকে হয়তো মনে হয়েছে, একটা family mall-এ গিয়ে একটু বেশিই টাকা খরচ করেছে।

কিন্তু একই সঙ্গে আরও কিছু ঘটেছে।

আমি guilt-এ ডুবে না গিয়ে অন্যদের আমাকে celebrate করতে দিয়েছি। আমার ছেলে ভয় না পেয়ে নিজের ইচ্ছার কথা বলেছে। যে পৃথিবীকে ও নিজের মতো করে বোঝার চেষ্টা করছে, তার আরেকটা ছোট্ট piece ও বাড়িতে নিয়ে এসেছে। তারপর সেটাকে নিজের অন্য জিনিসগুলোর পাশে রেখেছে—যেসব জিনিস ওর নিজের।

অন্য কারও কাছে এটা হয়তো খুবই ordinary মনে হবে।

আমার কাছে এটাই সেই childhood security, যা আমার নিজের কখনো ছিল না।

হয়তো আমাদের family-তে আমরা আসলে শুধু বই, LEGO set বা Rubik’s Cube collect করছি না। আমরা অল্প অল্প করে safety-ও collect করছি। এই বিশ্বাসের প্রমাণ জমাচ্ছি যে আমরা কোনো কিছু চাইতে পারি, ভালোবাসতে পারি, নিজের কাছে রাখতে পারি এবং পৃথিবীতে নিজেদের জন্য একটু জায়গা তৈরি করতে পারি।

এই প্রমাণ যে আমার শব্দটা সব সময় বিপজ্জনক হতে হবে না।

I keep seeing it online, and every single time I have the same reaction. First, I laugh. Not a real laugh—a nervous little ha ha, surely this is satire laugh. Then I read it again and say out loud, “Wait. Can he do that?”

Unfortunately, the answer is not a clean no. On August 27, Donald Trump signed an executive order directing the U.S. Department of the Interior and the U.S. Board on Geographic Names to replace “Lake Ontario” with “Lake America” in the federal Geographic Names Information System and in U.S. federal documents. So yes, he can make his own federal government use that name. What he cannot do is rename Canada’s part of an international lake, force Canada or international organizations to accept the name, or order the rest of us to participate in his latest branding exercise.

Even Google’s response makes the limit obvious: users in the United States now see “Lake America,” users in Canada still see “Lake Ontario,” and users elsewhere see both names. Apparently even the map has learned how to manage an exhausting relative. (White House order; CBS News; Associated Press)

And then Doug Ford spoke.

For anyone outside Ontario, let me explain why this part is so funny. We do not generally look at Doug Ford and think, Ah yes, the daring face of progressive twenty-first-century politics. He is the leader of Ontario’s Progressive Conservative Party. Many of us have spent years disagreeing with him, sometimes loudly. Yet Trump has managed to create a situation in which Doug Ford walks into the room and sounds like the reasonable adult.

Ford said Trump signing the order looked like “something out of Saturday Night Live” and insisted that nobody was going to call it Lake America. And honestly, what else is there to say? When Doug Ford—Doug Ford—has to explain that your behaviour resembles a comedy sketch, perhaps it is time to sit quietly and think about the choices that brought you here. (Bloomberg Law)

The entire thing invites questions that should be stupid but are now apparently part of international relations. Does the water change names at the border? Do the fish need to remember whether they are swimming in Lake Ontario or Lake America? Will the rain receive an updated federal memo before it falls? If I stand on the Canadian shore and shout “Lake Ontario,” will an American agency issue me a correction—or just a tariff?

There is something deeply pathetic about a president trying to win a trade fight by renaming a lake. It is not strength. It is the political equivalent of losing an argument and changing the other person’s name in your phone to “Stupid.” You have not won anything. You have only created paperwork.

It is also not a blank patch of water waiting for Trump to discover it with a Sharpie. As Prime Minister Mark Carney noted, the name Ontario comes from the Wendat word Ontari’io, which he rendered as “the lake is beautiful, the lake is big.” He described the name as more than 400 years old and put the matter plainly: “Canadians also know that naming reality means calling it Lake Ontario—then, now and always.” (Associated Press)

That is where the joke stops being completely funny. A name can carry history, language and identity. Trump’s order cannot erase those things, but it reveals the same ugly instinct we keep seeing: if something matters, claim it; if another country resists, belittle it; if reality refuses to cooperate, rename reality. Then turn the whole tantrum into content.

Doug Ford answered with an enormous sign on the Canadian shoreline: LAKE ONTARIO. NOW AND ALWAYS. It was petty, theatrical and completely appropriate. Sometimes a ridiculous performance deserves a billboard-sized response. (Associated Press; The Guardian)

So, can Trump do it? He can command the U.S. federal government to print “Lake America” on its own maps and documents. He cannot make it Lake America in Canada. He cannot force Canadians to say it. He cannot rename four hundred years of history, and he cannot make the lake care.

It was Lake Ontario before Donald Trump signed his piece of paper. It is Lake Ontario while he is waving that paper around. And long after this bizarre little episode has become an actual comedy sketch, it will still be Lake Ontario.

Then came the follow-up questions.

“How is anxiety different from worry?”

“Does everyone have anxiety?”

And finally:

“How is it fair that I have it and some people don’t?”

That last question was the hardest because, honestly, what was I supposed to say? It is not fair. Our bodies do not have a fair little distribution system carefully handing everyone the same number of struggles.

Then he told me, “I don’t like this feeling.”

He calls it the “dhuk dhuk” in his chest.

That description made perfect sense. Anxiety may be a big, complicated word, but dhuk dhuk is something he can feel. It is the fast heartbeat, the strange feeling in his chest, the uncomfortable warning that something may be wrong—even when he cannot explain what that something is. Over the past four years, he has slowly learned to recognize that feeling. Not overnight. Not because we found one magical breathing exercise and anxiety packed its bags forever. We simply kept naming it, talking about it, and trying different ways to help his body feel safe.

What Is Anxiety?

I explained it to him like this:

Imagine that your brain and body have an alarm system. Everyone has one. Its job is to protect you. If there is a fire, an angry animal, or someone is trying to hurt you, the alarm rings. It makes your heart beat faster, tightens your muscles, and prepares you to run, hide, freeze, call for help, or protect yourself. That alarm is important. We need it. But sometimes the alarm notices something uncertain and mistakes it for danger. Sometimes it rings too early, too loudly, or for much longer than we need it to. Your heart goes dhuk dhuk. Your tummy may hurt. Your hands may become sweaty. Your body may feel shaky or frozen. You may want to escape even though you do not fully understand what you are escaping from.

That feeling is anxiety.

Anxiety is not your body being naughty. It is not proof that you are weak, dramatic, or incapable. It is your body trying very hard to protect you—sometimes from something dangerous and sometimes from something it has only guessed might be dangerous.

The first thing we do is check. Is something unsafe? Is someone hurting you? Is the room painfully loud? Is the light hurting your eyes? Is somebody touching you when you do not want them to? If so, the answer is not to ignore your alarm and force yourself to stay. The answer is to get help and make the situation safer. But if we check and discover that we are safe, we can help the alarm understand that it does not need to ring quite so loudly.

Worry and Anxiety Are Not Exactly the Same

A worry is often a thought:

“What if nobody plays with me?”

“What if I forget what to say?”

“What if my drawing is not perfect?”

Anxiety is often what the brain and body do after that thought begins to feel like danger.

The worry says:

“What if?”

The anxiety answers:

“Watch out! Something bad is happening!”

Then comes the dhuk dhuk, the tight tummy, the sweaty hands, or the feeling that your feet simply cannot move.

Worry and anxiety often arrive together, but they do not always follow a neat order. Sometimes the worried thought comes first. Sometimes the body alarm rings before you can identify any thought at all. That is why I tell him he does not have to explain everything perfectly before asking for help. “I have the dhuk dhuk” is already enough information.

Does Everyone Have Anxiety?

Everyone has an alarm system, and almost everyone feels anxious sometimes. A person might feel anxious before an exam, on the first day of school, before speaking in front of people, or when entering an unfamiliar place.

But not everyone’s alarm rings with the same volume or frequency.

Some people feel anxiety occasionally. Some people have an alarm that is particularly sensitive. It rings more often, reacts more strongly, and takes longer to settle. Some people need extra support or professional help to manage it.

So when my son asks, “How is it fair that I have this and some people don’t?” I cannot pretend that it is fair.

I can only tell him:

“No, it isn’t fair that some things feel harder for you. You did not cause it, and you are not being punished. But you do not have to figure it out alone. We can learn what helps your body together.”

What Can Anxiety Look Like?

Anxiety does not always look like crying or saying, “I am scared.”

It might look like stopping outside a birthday party because the people, noise, and uncertainty on the other side of the door feel enormous.

It might look like standing silently in front of a classroom even though the child knew exactly what they wanted to say five minutes earlier.

It might look like refusing to draw because one imperfect line suddenly feels unbearable.

From the outside, these things can be mistaken for stubbornness, rudeness, laziness, or attention-seeking.

From inside the child’s body, an alarm may be screaming.

That does not mean every uncomfortable situation should be avoided forever. Avoiding something can make the alarm quieter for the moment, but it may also teach the alarm that the situation really was dangerous.

At the same time, not every refusal is anxiety that needs to be pushed through. A noisy party may be genuinely overwhelming. A child may need headphones, a quieter room, more information, a break, or permission to leave.

The job is not to force the child through the door.

The job is to understand what is happening and help them find one safe, manageable next step.

What Helps the “Dhuk Dhuk”?

The first thing that helped my son was learning to identify the feeling.

“I have the dhuk dhuk.”

That sentence tells me more than “I’m fine” ever could. It gives us somewhere to begin.

Now, he often asks me for a hug when the feeling appears. The hug does not magically solve everything, but it gives his body comfort, pressure, connection, and the reassurance that he is not facing the feeling alone. Sometimes he does not want a hug, and that is okay too. Comfort only works when it is actually comforting to the person receiving it.

We also practised slow breathing. At first, I had to remind him. We would breathe in slowly, count, and breathe out slowly. Again and again.

Now, there are times when I notice him taking deep breaths without anyone prompting him. That may look like a tiny thing to someone else. To me, it is enormous. He felt the alarm. He recognized it. He remembered a tool. Then he used that tool by himself. That is not a tiny achievement. That is four years of learning happening inside one breath.

Other things that may help include:

• Saying, “I feel anxious,” or, “My alarm is ringing.”
• Asking for a trusted person to stay nearby.
• Taking three slow breaths.
• Tightening the muscles like a robot, then letting them relax like a floppy rag doll.
• Using headphones or moving somewhere quieter.
• Asking what is going to happen next.
• Breaking one frightening task into much smaller steps.
• Taking a break and trying again later.

Anxiety does not always need a battle.

Sometimes it needs language. Sometimes it needs connection. Sometimes it needs accommodation. Sometimes it needs practice. And sometimes it needs professional help.

What Does Success Look Like?

Success does not mean that the dhuk dhuk never comes back.

It does not mean entering every party, speaking into every microphone, or forcing yourself to remain somewhere painful just to prove that you are brave. Success can mean noticing the feeling before it becomes overwhelming.

It can mean saying:

“I need a hug.”

“I need a break.”

“Please stay with me.”

It can mean taking a breath without being reminded. It can mean standing outside the party today, stepping through the door tomorrow, and saying hello to one person another day.

Going inside is a win. Standing at the doorway for one minute can also be a win. Asking for help is a win. Drawing one imperfect line is a win. Leaving an unsafe or painfully overwhelming situation is also a win.

My son still experiences anxiety. The alarm has not disappeared. But now he can sometimes recognize it, name it, ask for what he needs, and help his own body settle. That is what success looks like to me. Not a child who never feels anxious, but a child who is slowly learning:

“I know this feeling. I know what it is called. I know what might help. And I do not have to face it alone.”

Small wins are still wins. Sometimes one deep breath is the small win.

And sometimes that one breath contains four years of courage.

A Note for Parents and Caregivers

This is a child-friendly explanation, not a diagnostic guide. Anxiety is a natural response to stress, but it may require professional support when it becomes very strong, continues over time, or interferes with school, sleep, relationships, daily activities, or things a child enjoys. Gradual, supported practice can help children approach safe situations that anxiety makes them avoid, but it should not be confused with forcing a child through pain, sensory overload, bullying, or genuine danger.

Further reading

• NHS: Anxiety in children
• American Academy of Child and Adolescent Psychiatry: Anxiety Disorders—Parents’ Medication Guide

তারপর শুরু হলো follow-up questions।

“Anxiety আর worry-র মধ্যে পার্থক্য কী?”

“সবার কি anxiety হয়?”

এবং সবশেষে:

“আমার anxiety আছে, কিন্তু অনেকের নেই—এটা fair কীভাবে?”

শেষ প্রশ্নটাই সবচেয়ে কঠিন ছিল। কারণ সত্যি বলতে, আমি ওকে কী বলব? এটা fair না। আমাদের শরীরের ভেতরে এমন কোনো সুন্দর, ন্যায়সংগত distribution system নেই, যেটা মেপে মেপে সবার হাতে সমান পরিমাণ struggle তুলে দেয়।

তারপর ও বলল, “আমার এই feeling-টা ভালো লাগে না।”

ও এটাকে বলে বুকের ভেতরের “ধুকধুক”।

শুনেই আমার মনে হলো, হ্যাঁ—এই description-টাই একদম ঠিক। Anxiety অনেক বড় আর complicated একটা শব্দ হতে পারে, কিন্তু ধুকধুক এমন কিছু, যেটা ও নিজের শরীরে সত্যি সত্যি অনুভব করতে পারে। বুকের দ্রুত heartbeat, ভেতরের অদ্ভুত অস্বস্তি, কিছু একটা ঠিক নেই—এমন একটা warning; যদিও ঠিক কী ভুল হচ্ছে, সেটা হয়তো ও বুঝিয়ে বলতে পারছে না।

Inside Out 2 দেখার পর ও এই প্রশ্নগুলো করতে পেরেছে, কিন্তু feeling-টাকে চিনতে শেখার কাজ আমাদের অনেক আগে শুরু হয়েছে। গত চার বছর ধরে ও ধীরে ধীরে বুঝতে শিখেছে কখন ওই ধুকধুক আসে। এক রাতে না। একটা magical breathing exercise পেয়ে anxiety চিরতরে ব্যাগ গুছিয়ে চলে গেছে—এমনও না। আমরা শুধু feeling-টার নাম বলতে থেকেছি, এটা নিয়ে কথা বলেছি, আর ওর body-কে safe feel করানোর জন্য বিভিন্ন উপায় খুঁজেছি।

Anxiety কী?

আমি ওকে এভাবে বুঝিয়েছি:

ভাবো, তোমার brain আর body-র ভেতরে একটা alarm system আছে। সবারই আছে। এর কাজ তোমাকে protect করা।

কোথাও fire লাগলে, কোনো প্রাণী তেড়ে এলে, অথবা কেউ তোমাকে hurt করার চেষ্টা করলে alarm-টা বেজে ওঠে। তখন তোমার heart দ্রুত beat করে, muscles শক্ত হয়ে যায়, আর body তোমাকে দৌড়াতে, লুকাতে, freeze হয়ে যেতে, সাহায্য চাইতে বা নিজেকে রক্ষা করতে প্রস্তুত করে।

এই alarm খুবই important। আমাদের এটা দরকার।

কিন্তু কখনো কখনো alarm-টা অনিশ্চিত কোনো কিছুকেও danger ভেবে বসে। কখনো এটা প্রয়োজনের আগেই বেজে ওঠে। কখনো খুব জোরে বাজে। আবার কখনো danger চলে যাওয়ার পরও অনেকক্ষণ বেজেই যায়।

তখন বুক ধুকধুক করতে পারে। পেট ব্যথা করতে পারে। হাত ঘামতে পারে। শরীর কাঁপতে পারে বা একদম freeze হয়ে যেতে পারে। কোথা থেকে পালাতে চাইছ, সেটা নিজেও ঠিক বুঝতে না পারলেও শুধু মনে হতে পারে—এখান থেকে বের হতে হবে।

এই feeling-টাই anxiety।

Anxiety মানে তোমার body দুষ্টুমি করছে, তা না। এর মানে এই না যে তুমি weak, dramatic বা incapable। তোমার body খুব চেষ্টা করছে তোমাকে protect করতে—কখনো সত্যিকারের danger থেকে, আবার কখনো এমন কিছু থেকে, যেটাকে সে শুধু danger হতে পারে বলে guess করেছে।

তাই আমরা প্রথমে check করি।

কিছু কি সত্যিই unsafe? কেউ কি তোমাকে hurt করছে? Room-টা কি অসহ্য রকম loud? Light কি তোমার চোখে কষ্ট দিচ্ছে? কেউ কি তোমার permission ছাড়া তোমাকে touch করছে?

যদি উত্তর হ্যাঁ হয়, তাহলে alarm ignore করে নিজেকে জোর করে সেখানে দাঁড় করিয়ে রাখা solution না। তখন help চাইতে হবে এবং situation-টা safe করতে হবে।

কিন্তু check করে যদি দেখি আমরা safe, তখন body-কে বোঝাতে সাহায্য করতে পারি যে alarm-টার এত জোরে বাজার প্রয়োজন নেই।

Worry আর anxiety এক জিনিস না

Worry অনেক সময় মাথার ভেতরের একটা thought:

“যদি party-তে কেউ আমার সঙ্গে না খেলে?”

“যদি আমি কী বলতে হবে ভুলে যাই?”

“যদি আমার drawing perfect না হয়?”

সেই thought-টা যখন brain আর body-র কাছে সত্যিকারের danger-এর মতো লাগতে শুরু করে, তখন যে reaction হয়, সেটাই অনেক সময় anxiety।

Worry বলে:

“যদি এমন হয়?”

Anxiety সঙ্গে সঙ্গে উত্তর দেয়:

“সাবধান! খারাপ কিছু ঘটে যাচ্ছে!”

তারপর শুরু হয় বুকের ধুকধুক, পেট শক্ত হয়ে যাওয়া, হাত ঘামা কিংবা পা একদম না নড়ার feeling।

Worry আর anxiety প্রায়ই একসঙ্গে আসে। তবে সব সময় একই order-এ আসে না। কখনো worried thought আগে আসে। আবার কখনো কোনো thought চেনার আগেই body-র alarm বেজে ওঠে।

এই কারণেই আমি ওকে বলি, help চাওয়ার আগে সবকিছু perfect করে explain করতে হবে না।

“আমার ধুকধুক হচ্ছে”—এইটুকু information-ই যথেষ্ট।

সবার কি anxiety হয়?

সবারই alarm system আছে এবং প্রায় সবাই কোনো না কোনো সময় anxiety feel করে। Exam-এর আগে, school-এর প্রথম দিনে, অনেক মানুষের সামনে কথা বলার আগে কিংবা একেবারে নতুন কোনো জায়গায় ঢোকার সময় একজন মানুষ anxious feel করতে পারে।

কিন্তু সবার alarm একই volume-এ বা একই frequency-তে বাজে না।

কেউ মাঝেমধ্যে anxiety feel করে। কারও alarm একটু বেশি sensitive। সেটা বারবার বাজে, খুব তীব্রভাবে react করে এবং শান্ত হতে বেশি সময় নেয়। আবার কারও anxiety manage করার জন্য extra support বা professional help দরকার হয়।

তাই আমার ছেলে যখন জিজ্ঞেস করে, “আমার এটা আছে, কিন্তু অনেকের নেই—এটা fair কীভাবে?” তখন আমি fair হওয়ার ভান করতে পারি না।

আমি শুধু ওকে বলতে পারি:

“না, কিছু কিছু জিনিস তোমার জন্য অন্যদের চেয়ে কঠিন—এটা fair না। তুমি এটা তৈরি করোনি, আর এটা কোনো punishment-ও না। কিন্তু তোমাকে একা একা এর solution বের করতে হবে না। তোমার body-কে কীভাবে সাহায্য করা যায়, সেটা আমরা একসঙ্গে শিখব।”

Anxiety দেখতে কেমন হতে পারে?

Anxiety মানেই সব সময় কান্না করা বা “আমি ভয় পাচ্ছি” বলা না।

কখনো এটা birthday party-র দরজার বাইরে থেমে যাওয়া হতে পারে, কারণ দরজার ওপাশের মানুষ, শব্দ আর uncertainty-টা ভীষণ বড় মনে হচ্ছে।

কখনো এটা classroom-এর সামনে চুপ করে দাঁড়িয়ে থাকা হতে পারে—যদিও পাঁচ মিনিট আগেও বাচ্চাটি ঠিক জানত সে কী বলতে চায়।

কখনো একটা imperfect line এতটাই অসহ্য মনে হতে পারে যে সে drawing-টাই আর করতে চায় না।

বাইরে থেকে এগুলোকে stubbornness, rudeness, laziness বা attention-seeking মনে হতে পারে।

কিন্তু বাচ্চাটির body-র ভেতরে হয়তো alarm চিৎকার করছে।

তার মানে এই না যে প্রত্যেকটা uncomfortable situation সারাজীবন avoid করে যেতে হবে। কোনো কিছু avoid করলে alarm হয়তো সেই মুহূর্তে একটু শান্ত হয়, কিন্তু এতে alarm এটাও শিখতে পারে যে situation-টা সত্যিই dangerous ছিল।

একই সঙ্গে, বাচ্চার প্রত্যেকটা “না” বা refusal-ও এমন anxiety না, যেটার ভেতর দিয়ে তাকে জোর করে ঠেলে নিয়ে যেতে হবে। একটা noisy party সত্যিই তার জন্য overwhelming হতে পারে। তার হয়তো headphones দরকার। একটু quiet জায়গা দরকার। আগে থেকে আরও information দরকার। একটা break দরকার। অথবা সেখান থেকে চলে আসার permission দরকার।

আমাদের কাজ বাচ্চাটিকে জোর করে দরজার ওপাশে ঠেলে দেওয়া না।

আমাদের কাজ হলো কী হচ্ছে সেটা বোঝা এবং ওকে একটা safe, manageable next step খুঁজে পেতে সাহায্য করা।

“ধুকধুক” হলে কী সাহায্য করে?

আমার ছেলেকে প্রথম যে জিনিসটা সাহায্য করেছিল, সেটা হলো feeling-টা চিনতে শেখা।

“আমার ধুকধুক হচ্ছে।”

“I’m fine” বলার চেয়ে এই একটা sentence আমাকে অনেক বেশি information দেয়। অন্তত আমরা কোথা থেকে শুরু করব, সেটা বুঝতে পারি।

এখন feeling-টা এলে ও প্রায়ই আমার কাছে hug চায়। Hug সবকিছু magically ঠিক করে দেয় না। কিন্তু এটা ওর body-কে comfort, pressure, connection এবং এই reassurance দেয় যে feeling-টার সামনে ও একা না।

কখনো ও hug চায় না। সেটাও okay। Comfort তখনই কাজ করে, যখন যাকে comfort দেওয়া হচ্ছে তার কাছেও সেটা সত্যি comfort মনে হয়।

আমরা slow breathing-ও practise করেছি। প্রথম দিকে আমাকে remind করতে হতো। আমরা আস্তে করে breath in করতাম, count করতাম, তারপর আস্তে করে breath out করতাম। বারবার।

এখন কখনো কখনো দেখি, কেউ কিছু বলার আগেই ও নিজে থেকে deep breath নিচ্ছে।

অন্য কারও কাছে এটা খুব ছোট একটা ব্যাপার মনে হতে পারে।

আমার কাছে এটা enormous।

ও alarm-টা feel করেছে। Feeling-টা চিনেছে। একটা tool-এর কথা মনে করেছে। তারপর নিজে থেকে সেই tool ব্যবহার করেছে।

এটা ছোট কোনো achievement না।

এটা একটা breath-এর ভেতরে চার বছরের learning।

আরও যেসব জিনিস সাহায্য করতে পারে:

• “আমার anxiety হচ্ছে” বা “আমার alarm বাজছে” বলা।
• Trusted কাউকে কাছে থাকতে বলা।
• তিনটি slow breath নেওয়া।
• Robot-এর মতো muscles শক্ত করে ধরে, তারপর rag doll-এর মতো ছেড়ে দেওয়া।
• Headphones ব্যবহার করা বা একটু quiet জায়গায় চলে যাওয়া।
• এরপর কী হবে, সেটা আগে থেকে জিজ্ঞেস করা।
• ভয় লাগা একটা বড় task-কে অনেক ছোট ছোট step-এ ভাগ করা।
• Break নেওয়া এবং পরে আবার চেষ্টা করা।

Anxiety-র সব সময় battle দরকার হয় না।

কখনো এর জন্য language দরকার। কখনো connection। কখনো accommodation। কখনো practice। আর কখনো professional help।

Success দেখতে কেমন?

Success মানে এই না যে বুকের ধুকধুক আর কোনো দিন ফিরে আসবে না।

Success মানে প্রত্যেকটা party-তে ঢুকতেই হবে, প্রত্যেকটা microphone-এর সামনে কথা বলতেই হবে অথবা শুধু brave প্রমাণ করার জন্য painful কোনো জায়গায় নিজেকে জোর করে দাঁড় করিয়ে রাখতে হবে—এমনও না।

Feeling-টা overwhelming হয়ে যাওয়ার আগেই সেটা notice করতে পারাও success।

Success হতে পারে বলা:

“আমার একটা hug দরকার।”

“আমার একটা break দরকার।”

“Please, আমার সঙ্গে থাকো।”

কেউ remind করার আগেই একটা breath নেওয়াও success।

আজ party-র বাইরে দাঁড়ানো, কাল দরজার ভেতর একটা পা রাখা, আর অন্য কোনো দিন একজনকে “Hi” বলা—এসবও success।

ভেতরে ঢোকা একটা win।

দরজায় এক মিনিট দাঁড়াতে পারাও একটা win।

Help চাওয়া একটা win।

একটা imperfect line আঁকা একটা win।

Unsafe বা অসহ্য রকম overwhelming জায়গা থেকে চলে আসাও একটা win।

আমার ছেলের এখনো anxiety হয়। Alarm-টা হারিয়ে যায়নি। কিন্তু এখন কখনো কখনো ও সেটা চিনতে পারে, নাম বলতে পারে, নিজের কী দরকার সেটা জানাতে পারে এবং নিজের body-কে শান্ত হতে সাহায্য করতে পারে।

আমার কাছে success দেখতে এমনই।

এমন কোনো বাচ্চা না, যার আর কখনো anxiety হয় না। বরং এমন একটা বাচ্চা, যে ধীরে ধীরে শিখছে:

“আমি এই feeling-টা চিনি। আমি জানি এর নাম কী। আমি জানি কী করলে একটু help হতে পারে। আর আমাকে একা এর মুখোমুখি হতে হবে না।”

Small wins-ও wins।

কখনো একটা deep breath-ই সেই small win।

আর কখনো সেই একটিমাত্র breath-এর ভেতরে চার বছরের courage জমা থাকে।

Parents ও caregivers-দের জন্য একটি কথা

এটি একটি child-friendly explanation, diagnostic guide নয়। Anxiety stress-এর প্রতি body-র একটি natural response। তবে anxiety খুব তীব্র হলে, দীর্ঘদিন চলতে থাকলে অথবা school, sleep, relationships, daily activities কিংবা বাচ্চার পছন্দের কাজগুলোতে বাধা দিলে professional support প্রয়োজন হতে পারে।

Gradual এবং supported practice একটি বাচ্চাকে safe situation-এর দিকে ধীরে ধীরে এগোতে সাহায্য করতে পারে—বিশেষ করে anxiety-র কারণে সে যেসব situation avoid করছে। কিন্তু এটাকে pain, sensory overload, bullying বা সত্যিকারের danger-এর ভেতর দিয়ে একটি বাচ্চাকে জোর করে ঠেলে নেওয়ার সঙ্গে গুলিয়ে ফেলা যাবে না।

আরও পড়ুন

• NHS: Anxiety in children
• American Academy of Child and Adolescent Psychiatry: Anxiety Disorders—Parents’ Medication Guide

My husband recently asked me what I wanted to do for my birthday. I thought and thought, and then I remembered: this year marks twenty-five years since the first Harry Potter film came out.

The answer was obvious. I want to go to the real Platform 9¾ at King’s Cross. Yes, that is what I would love to do for my thirty-sixth birthday.

The timing could not be more perfect. In the Harry Potter world, September 1 is the day students board the Hogwarts Express and return to school. Twenty-five years after Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone first reached cinemas, I want to stand beside the luggage trolley embedded in the wall at King’s Cross and pretend, just for a moment, that I am going too. The real Platform 9¾ display is in the station, where anyone is welcome to take a photograph for free.

At thirty-six, I am still that child.

I still love Harry Potter, even though I can now see the gaping plot holes staring sharply back at me. I have read countless other books. I minored in literature. I became a mother. I learned to examine stories critically and recognise the troubling parts of the things I love.

But the magic is still magic.

My history with Harry Potter actually began with a lie—or, more accurately, an unnecessary performance of confidence that has embarrassed me ever since.

In 2001, my computer teacher asked me whether I liked watching movies. I did not know how to say yes, or perhaps I did not know how to continue the conversation, so I simply shook my head. Then he asked whether I had watched Harry Potter.

I had no idea what he was talking about.

But I was too proud to admit that, so I said, with entirely undeserved arrogance, “I don’t watch movies.”

I have regretted that sentence ever since.

I am almost certain that teacher does not remember me saying it. It probably did not matter to him at all. It may not even have registered as an unusual interaction. But it left a wound in me—the kind created not by what another person did, but by the humiliation of remembering the person you were unable to be in that moment. I wanted to be someone who knew what he was talking about. Instead, I pretended not to care.

I did not properly discover Harry Potter until 2004, when Prisoner of Azkaban came out. At the time, the five of us were living in a tiny studio apartment in Dubai. For my birthday, Mum took us to Toys“R”Us. There, we saw life-size posters of Daniel Radcliffe, Emma Watson, and Rupert Grint dressed in Muggle clothes, their hair looking wonderfully messy and cool.

I became obsessed before I even knew what I was looking at.

I convinced Mum to buy us the movie. We promised we would not ask for anything else for an entire year. I do not know whether any child has ever honoured a promise like that, but Mum eventually relented.

We went home and watched the third movie. Then we searched everywhere for copies of Philosopher’s Stone and Chamber of Secrets. Once we had all three, we watched them again and again because they were all we had. We watched until we had memorised every scene and almost every line of dialogue.

That was it. There was no going back.

I had read books before then, in both Bangla and English—David Copperfield, Aesop’s fables, and many others. But I had never read anything that brought me that much joy. Once I found the Harry Potter books, I devoured whatever had been published. From then on, I read the books and watched the available movies almost every year.

The habit stayed with me. So did the excitement.

This year, I bought the Timbits and the hoodie. I tried the promotional doughnuts. I am still looking for the colour-changing wand. I visited the Harry Potter experience in London. I have collected Lego sets and the beautiful MinaLima editions of the books. My husband spent a buttload of money so I could watch Harry Potter and the Cursed Child with Tom Felton playing Draco Malfoy as an adult—and I kept almost everything from that day. Felton returned to the role on Broadway more than a decade after last playing Draco on screen.

My eleven-year-old self could never have imagined any of this. My thirteen-year-old self would be violently jealous.

Even now, whenever anything related to Harry Potter appears, part of me becomes that child again—the one who lived in a cramped studio apartment but had somehow found a doorway into an enormous castle. That is what these books did for me. They made the walls move. They gave me somewhere bigger to live inside my own head.

And they did something like that for millions of other people.

Tolkien created Middle-earth. Mary Shelley gave us Frankenstein. Louisa May Alcott gave us Jo March. Robert Jordan, George R.R. Martin, and Brandon Sanderson built worlds large enough for readers to disappear into. But Rowling achieved something unprecedented: Guinness World Records recognises her as the first billion-dollar author. Forbes now estimates that more than 600 million Harry Potter books have been sold and that the eight original films earned almost $7.7 billion worldwide. It currently estimates Rowling’s fortune at approximately $1.2 billion.

That is more than wealth. It is cultural power. It is the power to introduce words, characters, values, and entire moral frameworks into the childhoods of generations.

And that is why what J.K. Rowling chooses to do with her voice matters so much.

I know this is not the clean answer that will satisfy everyone’s political purity test. Some people believe that continuing to love Harry Potter makes me morally suspect. Others believe that criticising Rowling makes me ungrateful—or that any criticism of her is automatically an attack on women.

I do not accept either position.

I am a Harry Potter fan. An avid one. I am also an adult living in the post-COVID 2020s, watching Trump-style cruelty become disgustingly and increasingly normal, while people like Mamdani and Carney feel like rare gems fighting to level the playing field, all while trying to repair damage left by our parents’ and grandparents’ generations. They fight for—and speak about—public power as a responsibility rather than merely a weapon.

Rowling holds a kind of power most writers could never have imagined. Yet so much of her public presence now appears to be spent fighting an exhausting internet war over sex and gender—and belittling people who disagree with her.

When Emma Watson said that she still treasured Rowling despite their disagreement and hoped people with opposing views could continue to love one another, Rowling responded by calling her “ignorant of how ignorant she is.”

Threatening Rowling is wrong. No political disagreement justifies threats of rape, torture, or death. But experiencing cruelty does not give anyone a permanent licence to pass cruelty forward.

To me, publicly calling Emma Watson ignorant after Watson expressed affection despite disagreement did not look like a careful defence of women’s rights. It looked like a powerful person choosing humiliation over conversation. It looked petty. And from the woman who created Hermione Granger, it was especially heartbreaking.

Rowling has already demonstrated that she can use her influence for extraordinary good. She founded Lumos, an organisation working to replace institutional care with family- and community-based support for children. Her philanthropy has also supported women, children, people living in poverty, and neurological research through the Anne Rowling Regenerative Neurology Clinic. Her own website lists these projects and the causes she has funded. Forbes estimates that she has given more than $200 million to charity.

That matters. I do not want to erase it simply because I disagree with her now.

In fact, it is precisely because she has done meaningful good that I find her current choices so frustrating. She knows how to direct money, attention, and influence towards people who need them. She has already proved that she can change lives outside the pages of her books.

So why choose to spend so much of that influence making the world feel smaller?

J.K. Rowling, nobody is asking you to walk into the Forbidden Forest to die for the world, as Harry did. Nobody is asking you to surrender your beliefs, stop caring about women, or remain silent when you genuinely believe something is wrong.

I am asking you to remember the lessons you wrote for the rest of us.

Power reveals character. Cruelty does not become righteous merely because we believe our side is correct. The people we fear or misunderstand are still human. And when we possess more power than almost everyone around us, the burden to use it carefully becomes greater—not smaller.

Speak better. Do better. Be better.

You gave generations of children a story about resisting authoritarianism, questioning inherited prejudice, protecting people treated as less than human, and choosing love even when hate was easier. Please do not now ask those children—many of whom are adults—to pretend those lessons only applied inside the books.

I want to pass Harry Potter on to my child. I want to show him the moving staircases, the enchanted ceiling, and the Marauder’s Map. I want to watch his face when he discovers the magic for himself.

I do not want to hand him the books with an apology attached.

So please, Jo: speak better, do better, be better, so that we can happily pass the torch of the Harry Potter fandom to our children’s generation—and so the magic can survive for generations after us.

আমার husband রিসেন্টলি আমার কাছে জানতে চেয়েছে আমি আমার birthday-তে কী করতে চাই। অনেক ভাবার পর মনে পড়ল: এই বছর Harry Potter-এর ফার্স্ট মুভি রিলিজ হওয়ার ২৫ বছর পূর্ণ হলো!

Answerটা একদম clear ছিল। আমি কিংস্‌ ক্রস (King’s Cross)-এর আসল Platform 9¾-এ যেতে চাই। হ্যাঁ, আমার ৩৬th birthday-তে আমি ঠিক এটাই করতে চাই।

Timingটা একদম brilliant ছিল। Harry Potter ওয়ার্ল্ডে, ফার্স্ট সেপ্টেম্বর হলো সেই দিন যেদিন স্টুডেন্টরা Hogwarts Express-এ চড়ে স্কুলে ফিরে যায়। Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone সিনেমা হলে রিলিজ হওয়ার ২৫ বছর পর, আমি King’s Cross-এর দেওয়ালে গেঁথে থাকা luggage trolley-টার পাশে দাঁড়াতে চাই। জাস্ট এক মুহূর্তের জন্য pretend করতে চাই যে আমিও যাচ্ছি!

৩৬ বছর বয়সে এসেও আমি সেই ছোট বাচ্চাটাই রয়ে গেছি।

আমি এখনো Harry Potter অনেক ভালোবাসি, যদিও এখন আমি এর plot hole-গুলো বেশ পরিষ্কার দেখতে পাই। আমি প্রচুর বই পড়েছি। Literature-এ আমার minor ছিল। আমি একজন মা হয়েছি। আমি ক্রিটিক্যালি গল্প এনালাইজ করতে শিখেছি এবং আমার ভালো লাগার জিনিসগুলোর মধ্যেও সমস্যাগুলো চিনতে শিখেছি।

কিন্তু ম্যাজিক তো ম্যাজিকই!

Harry Potter-এর সাথে আমার হিস্ট্রিটা আসলে শুরু হয়েছিল একটা মিথ্যে দিয়ে—বলা ভালো, একটা আননেসেসারি আত্মবিশ্বাসের নাটক দিয়ে, যেটা নিয়ে আজও আমার লজ্জা করে।

২০০১ সালে, আমার কম্পিউটার টিচার আমাকে জিজ্ঞেস করেছিলেন আমার মুভি দেখতে ভালো লাগে কিনা। আমি জানতাম না কীভাবে হ্যাঁ বলব, কিংবা হয়তো আমি কনভারসেশনটা কন্টিনিউ করতে জানতাম না, তাই আমি জাস্ট মাথা নাড়লাম। এরপর উনি জিজ্ঞেস করলেন আমি Harry Potter দেখেছি কিনা।

সেটার ব্যাপারে আমার কোনো ধারণাই ছিল না।

কিন্তু স্বীকার করব যে Harry Potter কী বা কোনো দিন দেখিনি, তার থেকে ভালো arrogant হওয়ার ভাব করি—আর তাই বলে ফেললাম, “আমি মুভি দেখি না।”

সেই সেন্টেন্সটার জন্য আমি তখন থেকেই আফসোস করে আসছি।

আমি sure যে সেই টিচার আর মনেও রাখেননি আমি কী বলেছিলাম। উনার কাছে হয়তো এটা কোনো ব্যাপারই ছিল না। উনি হয়তো এটাকে একটা আনইউজুয়াল ইন্টারেকশন হিসেবে নোটিশই করেননি। কিন্তু এটা আমার মনে একটা দাগ রেখে গেছে—যেটা অন্য কেউ করেছে বলে নয়, বরং ওই মোমেন্টে আমি যেমন হতে পারিনি, সেই মেমোরির হিউমিলিয়েশন থেকে তৈরি হওয়া দাগ। আমি এমন একজন হতে চেয়েছিলাম যে জানে বিষয়গুলো কী নিয়ে। তার বদলে আমি এমন ভাব করলাম যেন আমার কেয়ারই করে না!

২০০৪ সালে Prisoner of Azkaban রিলিজ না হওয়া পর্যন্ত আমি প্রপারলি Harry Potter ডিসকভার করিনি। ওই সময়ে আমরা পাঁচজন দুবাইয়ের একটা ছোট্ট স্টুডিও অ্যাপার্টমেন্টে থাকতাম। আমার জন্মদিন উপলক্ষে আম্মু আমাদের Toys“R”Us-এ নিয়ে গেলেন। সেখানে আমরা Daniel Radcliffe, Emma Watson আর Rupert Grint-এর life-size পোস্টার দেখলাম—তারা Muggle পোশাক পরে আছে, তাদের চুলগুলো কী সুন্দর messy আর cool দেখাচ্ছিল!

আমি জিনিসটা ভালো করে বোঝার আগেই সেটার প্রতি obsessed হয়ে গেলাম।

আমি আম্মুকে রাজি করালাম আমাদের জন্য মুভিটা কিনে দিতে। আমরা প্রমিস করলাম পুরো এক বছর আমরা আর কিচ্ছু চাইব না। কোনো বাচ্চা কখনো এরকম কোনো প্রমিস সত্যি রাখে কি না আমি জানি না, কিন্তু আম্মু ফাইনালি রাজি হলেন।

আমরা বাসায় এসে থার্ড মুভিটা দেখলাম। এরপর আমরা সব জায়গায় Philosopher’s Stone আর Chamber of Secrets-এর কপি খুঁজতে লাগলাম। তিনটে মুভি হাতে পাওয়ার পর, আমরা ওগুলো বারবার দেখলাম কারণ আমাদের কাছে ওগুলো ছাড়া আর কিছু ছিল না। আমরা দেখতে দেখতে প্রতিটা সিন আর অলমোস্ট প্রতিটা ডায়ালগ মুখস্থ করে ফেলেছিলাম।

বাস, এইটুকুই! এরপর আর পিছনে ফিরে তাকাতে হয়নি।

তার আগেও আমি বাংলা আর ইংলিশে অনেক বই পড়েছি—David Copperfield, ঈশপের গল্প, আরও কত কী! কিন্তু এমন কোনো কিছু আমি কখনো পড়িনি যা আমাকে এত আনন্দ দিয়েছে। একবার Harry Potter বইগুলো খুঁজে পাওয়ার পর, তত দিনে যা যা পাবলিশ হয়েছিল আমি সব গিলে খেয়েছি। এরপর থেকে আমি প্রায় প্রতি বছরই বইগুলো পড়েছি আর available মুভিগুলো দেখেছি।

এই অভ্যাসটা আমার সাথে থেকে গেছে। সেই এক্সাইটমেন্টটাও থেকে গেছে।

এই বছর আমি Timbits আর hoodie কিনেছি। প্রমোশনাল ডোনাটস ট্রাই করেছি। আমি এখনো কালার-চেঞ্জিং ওয়ান্ডটা খুঁজছি। আমি লন্ডনের Harry Potter experience ভিজিট করেছি। LEGO সেট আর বইগুলোর সুন্দর MinaLima edition কালেকশন করেছি। আমার স্বামী একটা ridiculous amount of money খরচ করেছে যাতে আমি Harry Potter and the Cursed Child দেখতে পারি—যেখানে Tom Felton বড় বয়সে Draco Malfoy-এর রোল প্লে করেছে।

আমার এগারো বছর বয়সের self-টা কখনো ভাবতে পারেনি এসবের কিছু হতে পারে। আমার তেরো বছর বয়সের self-টা হলে তো হিংসায় জ্বলে মরত!

এখনো যখনই Harry Potter-related কিছু সামনে আসে, আমার ভেতরকার সেই বাচ্চাটা জেগে ওঠে—যে একটা ছোট স্টুডিও অ্যাপার্টমেন্টে থাকত অথচ কোনোভাবে একটা বিশাল castle-এ যাওয়ার দরজা খুঁজে পেয়েছিল। বইগুলো আমার জন্য ঠিক এটাই করেছিল। ওগুলো দেওয়ালগুলোকে সরিয়ে দিয়েছিল। আমার নিজের মাথার ভেতরে থাকার জন্য ওগুলো আমাকে একটা বিশাল জায়গা দিয়েছিল।

আর মিলিয়ন মিলিয়ন মানুষের জন্যও ওগুলো ঠিক এই কাজটাই করেছিল।

Tolkien Middle-earth তৈরি করেছিলেন। Mary Shelley আমাদের Frankenstein দিয়েছেন। Louisa May Alcott আমাদের Jo March দিয়েছেন। Robert Jordan, George R.R. Martin আর Brandon Sanderson এমন সব দুনিয়া বানিয়েছেন যেখানে রিডাররা হারিয়ে যেতে পারে। কিন্তু Rowling এমন একটা জিনিস অ্যাচিভ করেছেন যা unprecedented: Guinness World Records তাঁকে ফার্স্ট billion-dollar author হিসেবে রেকগনাইজ করে।

এটা শুধু wealth নয়। এটা cultural power। এটা এমন একটা power যা generation-এর পর generation ধরে বাচ্চাদের শৈশবে নতুন শব্দ, character, values আর পুরো একটা moral framework introduce করতে পারে।

আর ঠিক এই কারণেই J.K. Rowling তাঁর voice নিয়ে যা choose করেন, তা এত বেশি matter করে।

আমি জানি এটা খুব clear কোনো answer নয় যা সবার political purity test পাস করবে। কিছু মানুষ বিশ্বাস করে Harry Potter ভালোবেসে যাওয়াটা আমাকে morally suspect করে তোলে। আবার অনেকে ভাবে Rowling-কে criticize করা মানে আমাকে ungrateful প্রমাণ করা—কিংবা তাঁর যেকোনো criticism মানেই women-দের ওপর attack।

আমি কোনো position-ই accept করি না।

আমি Harry Potter-এর একজন fan। একজন avid fan। আমি post-COVID ২০২০s-এর একজন adult-ও বটে, যে দেখছে Trump-style cruelty কীভাবে দিন দিন disgustingly normal হয়ে যাচ্ছে, অথচ Mamdani আর Carney-র মতো মানুষেরা playing field level করার জন্য একেকজন rare gem-এর মতো লড়াই করে যাচ্ছে।

Rowling-এর এমন একধরনের power আছে যা বেশির ভাগ writer imagine-ও করতে পারবে না। অথচ তাঁর public presence-এর একটা বড় অংশ এখন কাটে sex আর gender নিয়ে একটা exhausting internet war লড়তে—আর যারা তাঁর সাথে disagree করে তাদের ছোট করতে।

Emma Watson যখন বলল যে disagreement থাকা সত্ত্বেও সে Rowling-কে treasure করে এবং আশা করে opposing view-এর মানুষগুলো একে অপরকে ভালোবেসে যেতে পারবে, তখন Rowling response করল Emma-কে “সে কতটা ignorant, সে সম্পর্কে নিজে যে ignorant” সেটা বলে।

Rowling-কে threat করা ভুল। কোনো position বা disagreement-ই rape, torture বা death threat justify করে না। কিন্তু cruelty face করা মানে এই না যে কাউকেই cruelty সামনে pass করার একটা permanent licence দিয়ে দেওয়া হলো।

আমার কাছে, Emma Watson ভালোবাসা প্রকাশ করার পরেও তাকে publicly ignorant বলাটা women’s rights-এর কোনো careful defence মনে হয়নি। এটাকে মনে হয়েছে একজন powerful মানুষ conversation-এর চেয়ে humiliation-কে choose করেছে। এটা বেশ petty ছিল। আর Hermione Granger-কে যে create করেছে, তার কাছ থেকে এটা specially heartbreaking ছিল।

Rowling already prove করেছেন যে তিনি তাঁর influence-টা অসাধারণ ভালো কাজের জন্য use করতে পারেন। তিনি Lumos foundation শুরু করেছিলেন। তাঁর philanthropy women, children, poverty-তে থাকা মানুষ এবং neurological research-এ support করেছে।

এটা matter করে। আমি শুধু এখন তাঁর সাথে আমার মত মিলছে না বলে এই contribution-গুলো মুছে ফেলতে চাই না।

Fact হলো, তিনি অতীতে meaningful ভালো কাজ করেছেন বলেই তাঁর বর্তমান choice-গুলোকে আমার এত বেশি frustrating লাগে। তিনি জানেন কীভাবে money, attention আর influence-কে এমন মানুষের দিকে direct করতে যাদের ওগুলো দরকার।

তাহলে কেন তিনি সেই influence-এর একটা বড় অংশ এই দুনিয়াটাকে আরও ছোট feel করাতে use করছেন?

J.K. Rowling, কেউ আপনাকে Harry Potter-এর মতো Forbidden Forest-এ গিয়ে মরতে বলছে না। কেউ বলছে না আপনার beliefs ছেড়ে দিতে, women-দের care করা বন্ধ করতে, বা কোনো কিছু ভুল মনে হলে silent থাকতে।

আমি শুধু আপনাকে বলছি আপনার নিজের লেখা lesson-গুলোর কথা মনে করতে।

Power character reveal করে। Cruelty জাস্ট এই কারণে right হয়ে যায় না যে আমাদের side-টা correct। আমরা যাদের ভয় পাই বা misunderstand করি, তারাও human।

ভালোভাবে কথা বলুন। ভালো কিছু করুন। Better হন।

আপনি generation-এর পর generation বাচ্চাদের এমন একটা story দিয়েছেন যা authoritarianism-এর বিরুদ্ধে দাঁড়াতে শেখায়, inherited prejudice question করতে শেখায়। দয়া করে সেই বাচ্চাদের—যাদের অনেকেই এখন adult—এখন এমন কিছু করতে বলবেন না যেন তারা pretend করে যে lesson-গুলো শুধু বইয়ের ভেতরেই applicable ছিল।

আমি Harry Potter-টা আমার ছেলেকে pass on করতে চাই। আমি তাকে moving staircase, enchanted ceiling আর Marauder’s Map দেখাতে চাই। যখন সে নিজের মতো করে magic-টা discover করবে, আমি তার মুখটা দেখতে চাই।

আমি একটা apology সাথে জুড়ে দিয়ে তার হাতে বইগুলো তুলে দিতে চাই না।

So please, Jo: better কথা বলুন, ভালো কিছু করুন, better হন—যাতে আমরা Harry Potter fandom-এর torch-টা আমাদের বাচ্চাদের generation-এ happily pass করতে পারি, আর magic-টা আমাদের পরেও বেঁচে থাকে।

It Was Just a Joke—Until I Stopped Playing

I was six when I learned that something joyful and private could be turned into public evidence against me. We had a cassette recorder at home. I wanted to know what my voice sounded like, so I pressed Record and began pretending to be two different women having a conversation about their husbands. I changed my voice for each character and acted out both sides of the conversation. That was it. I was not making a statement about marriage. I was not doing anything inappropriate. I was six years old, borrowing the voices and subjects I had heard around me and using them to create a story. I know now that this was pretend play—a completely normal and healthy part of childhood. I did not know that then.

My mother found the cassette. Then she played it for everyone. And I mean everyone. We lived in a joint family. Looking back, perhaps it was not an enormous crowd. But to six-year-old me, those people were my entire world. I do not remember every face or exactly how each person reacted. I remember being watched. I remember knowing that something I had created privately was now being presented for everyone’s amusement. I remember wanting to disappear.

What an adult may have considered a funny little performance felt like the public execution of my trust. I had not volunteered to perform. I had not handed anyone the cassette. I had not agreed to let a roomful of people enter the tiny imaginary world I had created for myself. After that day, I never pretend-played like that again. I stopped experimenting with characters. I stopped playing with different voices. Even singing freely became difficult because I had learned to monitor the sound coming out of me before anyone else could hear it and decide that it was ridiculous.

I cannot prove that I would have become an actor or voice actor. Nobody can prove the life they might have lived under different circumstances. But I now believe I had some talent in that area. What I can say with certainty is that my willingness to explore it ended that day. The talent may or may not have become a career. The shame made sure I never found out.

Then I Stopped Dancing

Something similar happened when I was twelve. I was dancing to Kaanta Laga, which was extremely popular at the time. I was not putting on a show. I was not dancing in front of strangers. I made one little move because I liked the song.

My mother saw me and gave me the angry eyes. If you grew up with those eyes, you know exactly what I mean. No words were necessary. The whole judgment arrived in one look: Vulgar. That was enough. I never danced for fun again.

One look took something that had felt playful and turned it into evidence that there was something shameful about my body. Dance stopped being movement. It became exposure. It became the possibility of being watched, judged, and found morally wrong. This is how a child learns shame. Not always through a long lecture. Sometimes joy is simply paired with humiliation often enough that the child’s nervous system understands the rule: Do not perform. Do not dance. Do not attract attention. Do not let anyone see you enjoying your own body or imagination. So I stopped.

What I Was Doing Was Normal

The hardest part for me to accept was that I had not done anything wrong. Pretend play is not useless silliness. The American Academy of Pediatrics describes play—including pretend play—as important to children’s language, social-emotional development, self-regulation, executive functioning, and ability to manage stress. Play gives children a safe place to experiment with roles, relationships, emotions, and the world they observe around them. The Power of Play, American Academy of Pediatrics

That cassette was not proof that I was ridiculous. It was proof that I was playing. It was evidence of imagination, observation, storytelling, and performance. I was practising dialogue. I was distinguishing between characters. I was testing what my voice could do. I did not need to be corrected. I certainly did not need an audience assembled without my consent.

At twelve, dancing one move to a popular song was not evidence that I was vulgar either. I was a child moving to music. My body had not committed a moral offence by existing rhythmically for several seconds. These were ordinary childhood acts. The response taught me to experience them as crimes.

When a Parent Makes the Child the Punchline

Not every embarrassing family story causes PTSD. Not every clumsy joke is emotional abuse. Parents are human. They misjudge situations, laugh at the wrong moment, misunderstand their children, and sometimes cause hurt without intending to. But intention does not decide impact by itself.

A parent can make a mistake, notice the child’s distress, stop, apologize, and repair the damage. The danger grows when humiliation becomes a pattern, when a child’s pain becomes part of the entertainment, or when shame is repeatedly used to control behaviour.

The World Health Organization includes ridicule and denigration among forms of psychological or emotional violence against children when those actions harm—or are likely to harm—a child’s development. The CDC similarly lists shaming and name-calling as examples of emotional abuse. Professional guidance on psychological maltreatment specifically identifies ridiculing a child and humiliating them in public as forms of spurning. WHO: Violence Against Children, CDC: About Child Abuse and Neglect, APSAC definitions of psychological maltreatment

That does not mean every unfortunate joke should immediately be assigned the most severe possible label. It means we need to stop pretending that humiliation becomes harmless simply because the person doing it is a parent or because other adults found it funny. A child is not family entertainment. A child’s diary, recording, crush, mistake, body, fear, performance, or private experiment does not automatically become community property because an adult discovered it. Turning a child’s vulnerability into a spectacle is not cute. It is cruel.

Why Would a Mother Do That?

This is the question people inevitably ask, and I have asked it too. Why would my mother play the cassette for everyone? Why did so many ordinary things we did have to become spectacles? Why did she use an angry look to turn a twelve-year-old child’s dancing into something dirty? Why did femininity, performance, beauty, or self-expression appear to make her so uncomfortable?

I do not know. Maybe she genuinely thought the recording was funny and did not consider that I had a private inner life. Maybe she grew up in a world where children belonged to the family and privacy was treated as secrecy or disobedience. Maybe public embarrassment was the form of discipline she knew. Maybe she feared how other people would judge her daughters, so she tried to control us before the world could. Maybe she had been taught that femininity was dangerous, frivolous, or shameful and passed that lesson on without questioning it. Maybe making a spectacle of us gave her control inside a family system where she otherwise felt powerless.

I can consider those possibilities. I cannot diagnose her from my memories, and I do not need to call her a narcissist to make what happened serious. What I can say is that, in those moments, my dignity mattered less than the room’s reaction. My privacy mattered less than the story she wanted to tell. My freedom mattered less than her ability to control how I behaved and how other people saw me. Whatever her reasons were, that is what her actions communicated.

Understanding that she may have had her own conditioning does not require me to sanitize what she did. An explanation is not an absolution. Generational trauma can explain why someone reaches for the weapon. It does not make it acceptable for them to use it on a child.

The Shame Followed Me Into Adulthood

The cassette disappeared a long time ago. The audience went home. The humiliation stayed. It stayed through school, adulthood, and even marriage. It lived in the way I avoided performing, singing, dancing, or drawing too much attention to myself. It lived in the split second of panic that appeared whenever I felt observed.

This is how those experiences became part of my PTSD. They did not remain neatly stored as unpleasant childhood memories. They became rules inside my body: Being seen is dangerous. Self-expression leads to humiliation. If you enjoy yourself too openly, someone will use it against you.

The effects were not limited to acting or dancing. When I felt that my life was slipping beyond my control, I chopped off my hair. I did not understand the connection at the time. I only knew that cutting it gave me a brief sense that I had done something. I had made one decision about my own body when everything else felt impossible to control.

My mother used to grab our hair and roughly chop it off. Sometimes she did it because she thought we were spending too much time looking in the mirror. The lesson was never only about hair. The lesson was that our bodies were available for correction whenever she disapproved of how we were using them.

Years later, I repeated the same action on myself—but with one important difference. This time, the scissors were in my hand. I was doing to myself what had once been done to me, while also trying to reclaim control over it. I am not claiming that everyone who cuts their hair during a difficult period is responding to trauma. I am explaining what the act came to mean in my own life. The body remembers patterns long before the conscious mind understands them.

What Therapy Helped Me Unlearn

It took CBT and later Cognitive Processing Therapy—CPT—for me to accept something that should have been obvious all along: Six-year-old me had done nothing wrong. Twelve-year-old me had done nothing wrong.

CPT is a trauma-focused treatment for PTSD that helps people identify and challenge “stuck points”—beliefs involving shame, self-blame, safety, trust, power, control, esteem, and intimacy. It does not erase what happened. It helps separate what happened from the conclusions the traumatized mind built around it. The U.S. National Center for PTSD identifies CPT as one of the most strongly recommended and extensively studied PTSD treatments. National Center for PTSD: Cognitive Processing Therapy

My stuck point was not simply, “My mother embarrassed me.” It was: There must have been something embarrassing about me. Therapy helped me pull those two ideas apart. The first describes what someone did. The second blames the child for having been available to hurt.

I had spent years treating the humiliation as proof that my performance was shameful. Only much later could I see that the shame belonged to the act of exposing a child—not to the child who was playing.

Research cannot tell me exactly why one particular memory stayed inside me for decades. But broader evidence supports the connection between childhood emotional maltreatment and later mental-health difficulties. A systematic review and meta-analysis covering 90 studies found associations between childhood emotional abuse or neglect and adult depression, anxiety, substance misuse, suicidal thoughts or attempts, eating disorders, and other psychological symptoms. Association is not destiny, and children do not all respond in the same way. But emotional harm does not become imaginary simply because it leaves no bruise. Systematic review and meta-analysis of childhood psychological maltreatment

Research has also found a meaningful association between shame and PTSD symptoms. Shame is not merely remembering, “Something bad happened.” Shame whispers, “Something bad happened because there is something wrong with me.” Meta-analysis of shame and PTSD

That was the belief I carried. Not that someone had failed to protect my vulnerability. That I had been foolish for having any vulnerability to protect.

Sensitive Children Do Not Need Thicker Skin

Calling a child “too sensitive” is often an adult’s way of avoiding a more uncomfortable question: Why was I so careless with something this child trusted me with?

Children differ in temperament. Some recover quickly from embarrassment. Some feel social exposure with enormous intensity. Some remember a roomful of laughter or one disgusted look for years. The adult’s job is not to determine whether the child has earned the right to feel hurt. The adult’s job is to notice the hurt and respond responsibly.

A sensitive child does not need to be mocked until they become less sensitive. That does not create resilience. It can create avoidance. The child does not necessarily learn, “Other people’s opinions cannot hurt me.” They may learn: Never give anyone anything real enough to hurt.

Research on parental verbal aggression suggests that ridicule, disdain, and humiliation can be associated with lasting psychological difficulties and are not necessarily cancelled out by affection or praise at other times. Kindness on Tuesday does not automatically erase humiliation on Monday. Study on parental verbal affection and verbal aggression

This does not mean parents must protect children from every uncomfortable feeling. Children need correction, limits, frustration, feedback, and opportunities to recover from mistakes. Humiliation is not the same as guidance. Guidance addresses what a child did. Shame tells the child what they are.

What These Memories Have Taught Me as a Mother

Now I am the mother of a sensitive child. My son feels things deeply. A tone of voice, a disappointed look, a joke that goes slightly too far—things that appear small to other people can become enormous inside him. I understand that part of him because it exists inside me too.

That does not mean I always respond perfectly. I do not. Sometimes I become impatient. Sometimes I misunderstand what he needs. Sometimes my own exhaustion speaks before the mother I want to be has time to catch up. But these memories have given me a very clear list of things I never want to do to him.

I will not take something he created privately and turn it into entertainment for the family. I will not tell stories about his fears, meltdowns, mistakes, unusual phrases, private interests, or vulnerable moments simply because other adults might find them funny. I will not mock his voice, his body, his movements, his stims, his tears, or the things that bring him joy.

I will not use the angry eyes and leave him to guess what terrible thing he has done. If something needs to stop, I want to use words. I want to explain the behaviour, the reason, and what he can do differently. I do not want one disgusted look from me to turn singing, dancing, or playing into something shameful for the rest of his life.

I will not tell him that he is “too sensitive” when what I really mean is that his feelings are inconvenient for the adults around him. His feelings being real does not mean every request must be granted. He still needs boundaries. He still needs correction, guidance, and opportunities to learn how his behaviour affects other people. But boundaries do not require humiliation. I can correct what he did without convincing him that there is something wrong with who he is.

I also will not expect him to laugh when someone makes a joke at his expense. A child should not have to participate in his own humiliation to prove that he is polite, easygoing, or capable of “taking a joke.” If someone continues after he asks them to stop, I want him to know that I will stand beside him—not beside the adults who think their amusement matters more than his dignity.

Before sharing a recording, photograph, private story, performance, or embarrassing moment from his life, I want to ask myself whether that moment belongs to me to share. Being his mother does not make every part of his life my property.

And if I embarrass him, I want to notice. If I hurt him publicly, I want to repair it publicly. I do not want to whisper an apology later while everyone else is allowed to keep believing that what happened was acceptable. I want to be able to say: “I shared something private without asking you. I saw that it embarrassed you. I should not have done that. I am sorry.” Then I want my behaviour to change.

I am not trying to raise my son inside a bubble where he never feels discomfort, criticism, rejection, or embarrassment. That would be impossible, and it would not prepare him for life. I am trying not to become his first bully.

I am trying to make home the place where he does not have to protect every soft part of himself. I want him to know that his sensitivity is not a defect that must be mocked out of him before the world gets the chance. Because sensitivity is not only pain. It is also empathy. Imagination. Attention. Creativity. The ability to notice what other people miss. I do not want him to become less sensitive just so that he can survive the people who are supposed to love him.

I know I cannot promise that my child will grow up without scars. No parent is given that promise. I will make mistakes. I will sometimes speak too sharply, misunderstand him, or respond from my own exhaustion and conditioning. Breaking the cycle does not mean becoming a perfect mother. It means refusing to defend the harm simply because I did not intend it. It means noticing, apologizing, repairing, and trying differently the next time.

Maybe I cannot leave my son with no scars. But I can refuse to carve them deliberately and call it discipline. I can refuse to turn his pain into a joke and call it affection. I can refuse to humiliate him and then make his sensitivity the problem. Maybe I can leave impressions that do not have to become wounds.

In that sense, my mother taught me something about parenting—although I wish the lesson had cost me less. She taught me, with painful clarity, what I never want to do to my own child.

I want my son to keep playing after someone walks into the room. I want him to sing without first checking everyone’s face. I want him to dance because he hears music and his body wants to move. I want him to create strange characters, make ridiculous voices, and explore every harmless version of himself without wondering who might use it against him later.

I cannot return the cassette to the six-year-old girl I was. But I can make sure my son never has to hide his.

What I Know Now

I do not know whether I would have become an actor. I do not know whether I would have tried voice acting, sung confidently, or danced badly and happily at weddings. Those alternate lives are impossible to measure. What I know is that the choice should have been mine.

The cassette did not capture a ridiculous little girl. It captured a creative child discovering what her voice could do. The dance move did not reveal a vulgar child. It revealed a twelve-year-old who heard music and wanted to move. My hair was not someone else’s instrument of discipline. My body was not a family project. My private joy was not public property.

I cannot go back and protect the child holding that cassette. I cannot stop my mother from pressing Play. But after CBT and CPT, I can finally sit beside that child in my memory and tell her what an adult should have said then: That was really creative. You made both voices yourself? Would you like me to listen—or would you rather keep it private?

And if she says it is private, I will protect it. I can protect that same privacy in my son. I can make home a place where he does not need to shrink his voice, hide his imagination, or study my face before allowing himself to feel joy.

Because sensitive children do not need thicker skin. They need adults with gentler hands, quieter mouths, and enough self-control not to turn a child’s vulnerability into entertainment.

The joke may last thirty seconds. The child may stop playing for thirty years.

“মজা ছিল”—যতক্ষণ না আমি খেলাই বন্ধ করে দিলাম

আমি ছয় বছর বয়সেই শিখে গিয়েছিলাম যে খুব আনন্দের, একান্ত private কোনো জিনিসও হঠাৎ করে সবার সামনে আমার বিরুদ্ধে evidence হয়ে উঠতে পারে। আমাদের বাসায় একটা cassette recorder ছিল। নিজের কণ্ঠস্বর শুনতে কেমন লাগে, সেটা জানার ইচ্ছায় Record button চেপে দুজন আলাদা নারীর চরিত্রে অভিনয় শুরু করেছিলাম। তারা নিজেদের স্বামীদের নিয়ে কথা বলছিল। দুই চরিত্রের জন্য আমি দুই রকম voice করেছিলাম এবং কথোপকথনের দুই পাশই একা একা অভিনয় করেছিলাম। এইটুকুই। আমি marriage নিয়ে কোনো বিশেষ বক্তব্য দিচ্ছিলাম না। অনুপযুক্ত কিছু করছিলাম না। আমার বয়স ছিল ছয়। আশপাশের বড়দের যেসব কথা আর কণ্ঠস্বর শুনেছিলাম, সেগুলো ধার করে একটা গল্প বানাচ্ছিলাম। এখন জানি, এটাকে বলে pretend play—শৈশবের একদম স্বাভাবিক এবং healthy একটা অংশ। তখন সেটা জানতাম না।

আমার মা cassette-টা খুঁজে পেলেন। তারপর সবাইকে সেটা শোনালেন। আর আমি যখন বলছি সবাই, তার মানে সবাই। আমরা joint family-তে থাকতাম। এখন পেছনে তাকালে হয়তো বুঝি, সেখানে বিরাট কোনো crowd ছিল না। কিন্তু ছয় বছরের আমার কাছে ওই মানুষগুলোরাই ছিল পুরো পৃথিবী। সবার মুখ বা কে ঠিক কীভাবে react করেছিল, এখন আর মনে নেই। শুধু মনে আছে, সবাই আমাকে দেখছিল। আমার নিজের জন্য private-ভাবে বানানো একটা জিনিস এখন সবার amusement-এর জন্য দেখানো হচ্ছে—সেটা বুঝতে পারছিলাম। মনে আছে, আমি সেখান থেকে গায়েব হয়ে যেতে চেয়েছিলাম।

একজন adult-এর কাছে যেটা হয়তো বাচ্চার মজার একটা performance ছিল, আমার কাছে সেটা মনে হয়েছিল আমার বিশ্বাসটাকে সবার সামনে ফাঁসি দেওয়া হচ্ছে। আমি নিজে থেকে perform করতে চাইনি। আমি cassette-টা কাউকে দিইনি। আমার বানানো ছোট্ট imaginary world-এর ভেতর এক ঘর মানুষকে ঢুকতে দেওয়ার consent-ও দিইনি। সেদিনের পর আমি আর কখনো ওভাবে pretend play করিনি। আলাদা আলাদা চরিত্র বানানো বন্ধ করে দিয়েছিলাম। বিভিন্ন voice নিয়ে খেলা বন্ধ করে দিয়েছিলাম। এমনকি মন খুলে গান গাওয়াও কঠিন হয়ে গেল। কারণ কেউ আমার কণ্ঠস্বর শুনে সেটাকে ridiculous বলার আগেই আমি নিজেই প্রতিটা শব্দ monitor করতে শিখে গিয়েছিলাম।

আমি প্রমাণ করতে পারব না যে বড় হয়ে আমি actor বা voice actor হতাম। অন্য পরিস্থিতিতে আমাদের জীবন কেমন হতে পারত, সেটা কেউই প্রমাণ করতে পারে না। কিন্তু এখন আমার মনে হয়, ওই জায়গাটায় আমার কিছু talent ছিল। নিশ্চিতভাবে শুধু এটুকুই বলতে পারি—সেদিনই সেটা explore করার ইচ্ছাটা শেষ হয়ে গিয়েছিল। Talent-টা career হতো কি না, জানি না। লজ্জাটা নিশ্চিত করেছিল, আমি যেন কোনো দিন সেই উত্তর খুঁজে না পাই।

তারপর আমি নাচও বন্ধ করলাম

আমার বয়স যখন বারো, তখন প্রায় একই রকম আরেকটা ঘটনা ঘটেছিল। তখন Kaanta Laga গানটা অসম্ভব popular ছিল। আমি গানটা শুনে একটু নাচছিলাম। কোনো show করছিলাম না। অপরিচিত কারও সামনে নাচছিলাম না। গানটা ভালো লেগেছিল বলে শুধু একটা ছোট dance move করেছিলাম।

আমার মা আমাকে দেখে সেই angry eyes দিলেন। আপনি যদি ওই চোখের সঙ্গে বড় হয়ে থাকেন, তাহলে ঠিকই বুঝবেন আমি কোন চোখের কথা বলছি। কোনো শব্দের দরকার হয়নি। পুরো judgment-টা একটা look-এর মধ্যেই চলে এসেছিল: Vulgar. ওইটুকুই যথেষ্ট ছিল। এরপর আমি আর কখনো আনন্দের জন্য নাচিনি।

একটা look এমন কিছুকে, যা এক মুহূর্ত আগেও আনন্দের ছিল, এমন evidence-এ পরিণত করল যেন আমার শরীরের মধ্যেই লজ্জাজনক কিছু আছে। Dance আর movement থাকল না। সেটা হয়ে গেল exposure—লোকে আমাকে দেখবে, judge করবে এবং আমার মধ্যে নৈতিকভাবে খারাপ কিছু খুঁজে পাবে, সেই ভয়। একটা শিশু এভাবেই shame শিখে। সব সময় লম্বা lecture দিয়ে শেখাতে হয় না। কখনো কখনো আনন্দের সঙ্গে humiliation-কে এত ভালোভাবে জুড়ে দেওয়া হয় যে শিশুটির nervous system নিজেই নিয়মটা বুঝে ফেলে: Perform করবে না। নাচবে না। কারও attention নেবে না। নিজের শরীর বা imagination উপভোগ করতে কেউ যেন তোমাকে না দেখে। তাই আমি থেমে গিয়েছিলাম।

আমি যা করছিলাম, সেটা একদম স্বাভাবিক ছিল

আমার জন্য সবচেয়ে কঠিন ছিল এটা মেনে নেওয়া যে আমি কোনো ভুলই করিনি। Pretend play কোনো useless ছেলেমানুষি নয়। American Academy of Pediatrics-এর মতে, play—যার মধ্যে pretend play-ও আছে—শিশুর language, social-emotional development, self-regulation, executive functioning এবং stress সামলানোর ক্ষমতার জন্য গুরুত্বপূর্ণ। Play-এর মধ্য দিয়ে শিশুরা role, relationship, emotion এবং আশপাশে দেখা পৃথিবীটাকে নিরাপদভাবে explore করতে পারে। The Power of Play, American Academy of Pediatrics

ওই cassette প্রমাণ করেনি যে আমি ridiculous ছিলাম। ওটা প্রমাণ করেছিল যে আমি খেলছিলাম। ওটা ছিল আমার imagination, observation, storytelling এবং performance-এর evidence। আমি dialogue practise করছিলাম। দুইটা আলাদা character তৈরি করছিলাম। নিজের voice দিয়ে কী কী করা যায়, সেটা পরীক্ষা করছিলাম। আমাকে correct করার কোনো দরকার ছিল না। আর আমার consent ছাড়া আমার জন্য audience জোগাড় করার তো প্রশ্নই আসে না।

বারো বছর বয়সে popular একটা গানের সঙ্গে একটা dance move করাও প্রমাণ করেনি যে আমি vulgar ছিলাম। আমি একটা শিশু ছিলাম, যে music শুনে নড়েছিল। কয়েক সেকেন্ড তালে তালে নড়ার কারণে আমার শরীর কোনো নৈতিক অপরাধ করেনি। এগুলো শৈশবের খুব সাধারণ কাজ ছিল। কিন্তু যে response পেয়েছিলাম, সেটা আমাকে এগুলোকে crime হিসেবে দেখতে শিখিয়েছিল।

যখন মা-বাবা নিজের সন্তানকেই Punchline বানান

Family-র প্রতিটা embarrassing story থেকে PTSD হয় না। প্রতিটা ভুল সময়ে করা joke-ও emotional abuse নয়। মা-বাবাও মানুষ। তাঁরা পরিস্থিতি ভুল বোঝেন, ভুল সময়ে হেসে ফেলেন, সন্তানকে বুঝতে পারেন না এবং কখনো hurt করার intention না থাকা সত্ত্বেও hurt করেন। কিন্তু শুধু intention দিয়ে impact ঠিক হয় না।

একজন মা বা বাবা ভুল করার পর সন্তানের কষ্ট notice করতে পারেন, থামতে পারেন, sorry বলতে পারেন এবং damage repair করতে পারেন। বিপদটা বাড়ে যখন humiliation একটা pattern হয়ে যায়, শিশুর কষ্ট যখন entertainment-এর অংশ হয়ে যায়, অথবা তার behaviour control করার জন্য বারবার shame ব্যবহার করা হয়।

World Health Organization ridicule এবং denigration-কে শিশুদের বিরুদ্ধে psychological বা emotional violence-এর অংশ হিসেবে চিহ্নিত করেছে, যখন সেগুলো শিশুর development-এর ক্ষতি করে বা ক্ষতি করার আশঙ্কা তৈরি করে। CDC-ও shaming এবং name-calling-কে emotional abuse-এর example হিসেবে উল্লেখ করে। Psychological maltreatment নিয়ে professional guidance-এ শিশুকে ridicule করা এবং public-এ humiliate করাকে spurning হিসেবে চিহ্নিত করা হয়েছে। WHO: Violence Against Children, CDC: About Child Abuse and Neglect, APSAC definitions of psychological maltreatment

তার মানে এই নয় যে প্রতিটা unfortunate joke-কে সঙ্গে সঙ্গে সবচেয়ে ভয়ংকর label দিতে হবে। তার মানে হলো—শুধু কাজটা মা-বাবা করেছেন বা অন্য adult-রা মজা পেয়েছেন বলে humiliation harmless হয়ে যায় না। একটা শিশু family entertainment নয়। একজন adult শিশুর diary, recording, crush, mistake, body, ভয়, performance বা private experiment খুঁজে পেয়েছেন বলেই সেটা automatic community property হয়ে যায় না। একটা শিশুর vulnerability-কে spectacle বানানো cute নয়। এটা cruel।

একজন মা কেন এমন করবেন?

মানুষ অবধারিতভাবে এই প্রশ্নটা করে। আমিও করেছি। আমার মা কেন সবাইকে cassette-টা শোনালেন? আমাদের সাধারণ কাজগুলো কেন বারবার spectacle বানাতে হতো? কেন একটা angry look দিয়ে বারো বছরের একটা বাচ্চার নাচকে dirty বানিয়ে দিলেন? Femininity, performance, beauty বা self-expression কেন তাঁকে এত uncomfortable করত?

আমি জানি না। হয়তো recording-টা তাঁর সত্যিই funny লেগেছিল এবং তিনি একবারও ভাবেননি যে আমারও একটা private inner life আছে। হয়তো তিনি এমন একটা পরিবেশে বড় হয়েছেন, যেখানে বাচ্চাদের family-র property মনে করা হতো এবং privacy-কে secrecy বা disobedience হিসেবে দেখা হতো। হয়তো public embarrassment-ই তাঁর জানা discipline ছিল। হয়তো তিনি ভয় পেতেন, অন্য মানুষ তাঁর মেয়েদের কীভাবে judge করবে; তাই পৃথিবী আমাদের control করার আগেই তিনি নিজে control করতে চেয়েছিলেন। হয়তো তাঁকে শেখানো হয়েছিল যে femininity dangerous, frivolous বা shameful, আর কোনো প্রশ্ন না করেই সেই শিক্ষা তিনি আমাদের দিয়ে গেছেন। হয়তো এমন একটা family system-এর মধ্যে আমাদের spectacle বানানো তাঁকে control-এর অনুভূতি দিত, যেখানে অন্যভাবে তিনি নিজেই powerless বোধ করতেন।

আমি এই possibility-গুলো নিয়ে ভাবতে পারি। কিন্তু শুধু নিজের memory দিয়ে তাঁকে diagnose করতে পারি না। আর যা হয়েছিল সেটাকে serious করার জন্য তাঁকে narcissist বলারও দরকার নেই। আমি এটুকু বলতে পারি যে ওই মুহূর্তগুলোতে room-এর reaction-এর চেয়ে আমার dignity কম important ছিল। তিনি যে story বলতে চেয়েছিলেন, তার চেয়ে আমার privacy কম important ছিল। আমি কীভাবে behave করব এবং অন্যরা আমাকে কীভাবে দেখবে, সেটা control করার তাঁর ক্ষমতার চেয়ে আমার freedom কম important ছিল। তাঁর কারণ যা-ই হোক, তাঁর কাজ আমাকে এই message-টাই দিয়েছিল।

তাঁর নিজের conditioning থাকতে পারে—এটা বোঝার মানে এই নয় যে তিনি যা করেছেন, সেটাকে পরিষ্কার-পরিচ্ছন্ন করে acceptable বানিয়ে ফেলতে হবে। Explanation কখনো absolution নয়। Generational trauma ব্যাখ্যা করতে পারে কেন কেউ একটা weapon হাতে তুলে নেয়। সেটা সেই weapon একটা শিশুর ওপর ব্যবহার করাকে acceptable করে না।

লজ্জাটা আমার সঙ্গে বড় হয়েছে

Cassette-টা অনেক আগেই হারিয়ে গেছে। Audience বাড়ি ফিরে গেছে। Humiliation থেকে গেছে। School, adulthood, এমনকি marriage-এর পরও সেটা আমার সঙ্গে ছিল। Performing, singing, dancing বা নিজের দিকে বেশি attention টানার ভয়টার মধ্যে সেটা ছিল। কেউ আমাকে দেখছে মনে হলেই যে এক সেকেন্ডের panic হতো, তার মধ্যেও সেটা ছিল।

এই অভিজ্ঞতাগুলো এভাবেই আমার PTSD-র অংশ হয়ে গিয়েছিল। এগুলো শুধু unpleasant childhood memory হিসেবে কোনো drawer-এর মধ্যে গুছিয়ে থাকেনি। এগুলো আমার শরীরের ভেতরে নিয়ম হয়ে গিয়েছিল: কেউ তোমাকে দেখলে বিপদ। Self-expression humiliation ডেকে আনে। তুমি যদি খুব খোলাখুলিভাবে আনন্দ করো, কেউ সেটা তোমার বিরুদ্ধে ব্যবহার করবে।

এর প্রভাব শুধু acting বা dancing-এর মধ্যে আটকে থাকেনি। যখনই মনে হতো আমার life আমার control-এর বাইরে চলে যাচ্ছে, আমি নিজের চুল কেটে ফেলতাম। তখন connection-টা বুঝিনি। শুধু জানতাম, চুল কাটার পর কিছুক্ষণের জন্য মনে হতো আমি অন্তত কিছু একটা করেছি। যখন আর কোনো কিছুর ওপর control ছিল না, তখন অন্তত নিজের শরীর নিয়ে একটা decision নিয়েছি।

আমার মা আমাদের চুল ধরে টেনে খুব rough-ভাবে কেটে দিতেন। কখনো তাঁর মনে হতো, আমরা আয়নার সামনে বেশি সময় কাটাচ্ছি—তাই চুল কেটে দিতেন। Lesson-টা কখনো শুধু চুল নিয়ে ছিল না। Lesson ছিল, আমরা আমাদের শরীরকে যেভাবে ব্যবহার করছি সেটা তাঁর পছন্দ না হলে আমাদের শরীর correction-এর জন্য available।

বহু বছর পর আমি নিজের সঙ্গে একই কাজ করেছি—শুধু একটা গুরুত্বপূর্ণ পার্থক্য ছিল। এবার scissors আমার হাতে ছিল। আমার সঙ্গে একসময় যা করা হয়েছিল, আমি নিজের সঙ্গে সেই একই কাজ করছিলাম। একই সঙ্গে সেটার ওপর control-ও ফেরত নেওয়ার চেষ্টা করছিলাম। Difficult সময় চুল কাটলেই সবাই trauma response করছে—আমি সেটা বলছি না। আমি শুধু বলছি, আমার নিজের জীবনে কাজটার meaning কী হয়ে উঠেছিল। Conscious mind বোঝার অনেক আগেই body pattern মনে রাখে।

Therapy আমাকে যা Unlearn করতে সাহায্য করেছে

CBT এবং পরে Cognitive Processing Therapy—CPT—করার পর আমি এমন একটা সত্য মেনে নিতে পেরেছিলাম, যেটা শুরু থেকেই obvious হওয়া উচিত ছিল: ছয় বছরের আমি কোনো ভুল করিনি। বারো বছরের আমিও কোনো ভুল করিনি।

CPT হলো PTSD-র জন্য একটি trauma-focused treatment। এটি মানুষকে নিজের “stuck points”—shame, self-blame, safety, trust, power, control, esteem এবং intimacy নিয়ে আটকে থাকা belief—চিহ্নিত করতে এবং challenge করতে সাহায্য করে। CPT কী হয়েছিল, সেটা মুছে দেয় না। যা হয়েছিল এবং traumatized mind সেই ঘটনা থেকে নিজের সম্পর্কে যে conclusion তৈরি করেছিল—এই দুটিকে আলাদা করতে সাহায্য করে। U.S. National Center for PTSD, CPT-কে PTSD-র সবচেয়ে বেশি recommended এবং extensively studied treatment-গুলোর একটি হিসেবে চিহ্নিত করে। National Center for PTSD: Cognitive Processing Therapy

আমার stuck point শুধু “আমার মা আমাকে embarrass করেছিলেন” ছিল না। সেটা ছিল: আমার মধ্যে নিশ্চয়ই embarrassing কিছু ছিল। Therapy এই দুইটা idea-কে আলাদা করতে সাহায্য করেছে। প্রথমটা বলে, অন্য একজন কী করেছিলেন। দ্বিতীয়টা hurt করার জন্য available থাকার দায় শিশুটির ওপর চাপিয়ে দেয়।

আমি বহু বছর ধরে humiliation-টাকে proof হিসেবে দেখেছিলাম যে আমার performance-টাই shameful ছিল। অনেক পরে বুঝতে পেরেছি, shame-টা ছিল একটা শিশুকে expose করার কাজের মধ্যে—যে শিশুটি খেলছিল, তার মধ্যে নয়।

একটা নির্দিষ্ট memory কেন কয়েক দশক আমার মধ্যে থেকে গেল, research সেটা বলতে পারবে না। কিন্তু childhood emotional maltreatment এবং পরবর্তী জীবনের mental-health difficulty-র মধ্যে connection আছে—বিস্তৃত evidence সেটা support করে। ৯০টি study নিয়ে করা একটি systematic review এবং meta-analysis-এ childhood emotional abuse বা neglect-এর সঙ্গে adulthood-এর depression, anxiety, substance misuse, suicidal thought বা attempt, eating disorder এবং অন্যান্য psychological symptom-এর association পাওয়া গেছে। Association মানেই destiny নয় এবং সব শিশু একইভাবে respond করে না। কিন্তু emotional harm কোনো bruise রেখে যায় না বলে সেটা imaginary হয়ে যায় না। Systematic review and meta-analysis of childhood psychological maltreatment

Research-এ shame এবং PTSD symptom-এর মধ্যেও meaningful association পাওয়া গেছে। Shame শুধু এই memory নয় যে, “আমার সঙ্গে খারাপ কিছু হয়েছিল।” Shame ফিসফিস করে বলে, “আমার সঙ্গে খারাপ কিছু হয়েছিল, কারণ আমার মধ্যেই খারাপ কিছু আছে।” Meta-analysis of shame and PTSD

আমি এই belief-টাই বয়ে বেড়িয়েছিলাম। কেউ আমার vulnerability protect করতে ব্যর্থ হয়েছিল—সেটা নয়। বরং vulnerability থাকার জন্য আমিই foolish ছিলাম।

Sensitive বাচ্চাদের “চামড়া মোটা” করার দরকার নেই

কোনো শিশুকে “too sensitive” বলা অনেক সময় adult-এর এই uncomfortable প্রশ্নটা এড়িয়ে যাওয়ার উপায়: এই বাচ্চাটা আমাকে বিশ্বাস করে কিছু দিয়েছিল, আর আমি সেটা নিয়ে এত careless কেন ছিলাম?

প্রতিটা শিশুর temperament আলাদা। কেউ embarrassment থেকে দ্রুত বের হয়ে আসে। কারও কাছে social exposure অসম্ভব intense লাগে। কেউ এক ঘর মানুষের হাসি বা একজনের disgusted look বছরের পর বছর মনে রাখে। একটা শিশুর hurt হওয়ার অধিকার আছে কি না, সেটা ঠিক করা adult-এর কাজ নয়। Hurt-টা notice করে responsibly respond করা adult-এর কাজ।

একটা sensitive বাচ্চাকে mock করতে করতে কম sensitive বানানোর দরকার নেই। এতে resilience তৈরি হয় না। Avoidance তৈরি হতে পারে। শিশুটি সব সময় এটা শেখে না যে, “অন্য মানুষের opinion আমাকে hurt করতে পারবে না।” সে বরং শিখতে পারে: কাউকে এমন সত্যিকারের কিছু দেবে না, যেটা ব্যবহার করে সে তোমাকে hurt করতে পারে।

Parental verbal aggression নিয়ে research বলছে, ridicule, disdain এবং humiliation দীর্ঘমেয়াদি psychological difficulty-র সঙ্গে associated হতে পারে। অন্য সময়ের affection বা praise সব সময় সেই ক্ষতি cancel করে দেয় না। Tuesday-র kindness automatic Monday-র humiliation মুছে দেয় না। Study on parental verbal affection and verbal aggression

তার মানে এই নয় যে মা-বাবাকে শিশুকে সব uncomfortable feeling থেকে protect করতে হবে। বাচ্চাদের correction, limit, frustration, feedback এবং mistake থেকে recover করার সুযোগ দরকার। কিন্তু humiliation আর guidance এক জিনিস নয়। Guidance শিশুটি কী করেছে, সেটা address করে। Shame শিশুটিকে বলে, সে নিজেই কী।

মা হওয়ার পর এই স্মৃতিগুলো আমাকে যা শিখিয়েছে

এখন আমি নিজেই একটি sensitive বাচ্চার মা। আমার ছেলে সবকিছু খুব deeply feel করে। কারও tone of voice, একটা disappointed look, সামান্য বেশি দূর চলে যাওয়া একটা joke—অন্যদের কাছে যেগুলো ছোট মনে হয়, সেগুলো তার ভেতরে enormous হয়ে উঠতে পারে। ওর এই অংশটা আমি বুঝি, কারণ একই জিনিস আমার মধ্যেও আছে।

তার মানে এই নয় যে আমি সব সময় perfect response দিই। দিই না। কখনো impatient হয়ে যাই। কখনো বুঝতে পারি না ওর কী দরকার। কখনো আমি যে মা হতে চাই, সে respond করার সুযোগ পাওয়ার আগেই আমার exhaustion কথা বলে ফেলে। কিন্তু এই memory-গুলো আমাকে খুব পরিষ্কার একটা list দিয়েছে—কোন কাজগুলো আমি কোনো দিন ওর সঙ্গে করতে চাই না।

ও private-ভাবে কিছু তৈরি করলে আমি সেটাকে family entertainment বানাব না। অন্য adult-রা funny মনে করতে পারে বলে ওর ভয়, meltdown, mistake, unusual phrase, private interest বা vulnerable moment নিয়ে গল্প করব না। ওর voice, body, movement, stims, কান্না বা যে জিনিসগুলো ওকে আনন্দ দেয়, সেগুলো mock করব না।

আমি angry eyes দিয়ে ওকে একা একা guess করতে ছেড়ে দেব না যে ও কী ভয়ংকর কাজ করেছে। কোনো কিছু stop করার দরকার হলে আমি words ব্যবহার করতে চাই। Behaviour-টা কী, কেন stop করতে হবে এবং তার বদলে ও কী করতে পারে—সেটা explain করতে চাই। আমার একটা disgusted look-এর কারণে ওর singing, dancing বা playing সারাজীবনের জন্য shameful হয়ে যাক, আমি সেটা চাই না।

ও “too sensitive”—এটা বলব না, যখন আমি আসলে বলতে চাই যে ওর feelings আশপাশের adult-দের জন্য inconvenient। ওর feelings real হওয়ার মানে এই নয় যে ওর প্রতিটা request মানতে হবে। ওর boundary দরকার। Correction, guidance এবং ওর behaviour অন্য মানুষকে কীভাবে affect করে, সেটা শেখার সুযোগও দরকার। কিন্তু boundary-র জন্য humiliation লাগে না। ও কী করেছে, সেটা correct করতে গিয়ে ও নিজেই ভুল—এই বিশ্বাসটা তৈরি করার দরকার নেই।

কেউ ওকে নিয়ে joke করলে আমি ওর কাছে আশা করব না যে সে নিজেও হাসবে। Polite, easygoing বা “joke নিতে পারে”—এটা prove করার জন্য কোনো শিশুকে নিজের humiliation-এ participate করতে হবে না। ও stop বলার পরও কেউ যদি চালিয়ে যায়, আমি চাই ও জানুক যে আমি ওর পাশে দাঁড়াব। সেই adult-দের পাশে নয়, যারা মনে করেন ওর dignity-র চেয়ে তাঁদের amusement বেশি important।

ওর কোনো recording, photograph, private story, performance বা embarrassing moment share করার আগে আমি নিজেকে জিজ্ঞেস করতে চাই—এই মুহূর্তটা share করার অধিকার আসলেই আমার আছে কি না। আমি ওর মা বলে ওর জীবনের প্রতিটা অংশ আমার property হয়ে যায় না।

আর আমি যদি ওকে embarrass করি, সেটা notice করতে চাই। Public-এ hurt করলে public-এই repair করতে চাই। পরে একা একা ফিসফিস করে sorry বলতে চাই না, যখন বাকি সবাই ভাবতে থাকে যা হয়েছে সেটা acceptable ছিল। আমি বলতে চাই: “তোমার permission ছাড়া তোমার private একটা জিনিস share করেছি। আমি দেখেছি এতে তুমি embarrassed হয়েছ। আমার এটা করা উচিত হয়নি। I am sorry।” তারপর আমি চাই আমার behaviour বদলাক।

আমি আমার ছেলেকে এমন কোনো bubble-এর মধ্যে বড় করতে চাই না, যেখানে সে কখনো discomfort, criticism, rejection বা embarrassment অনুভব করবে না। সেটা impossible এবং সেটা তাকে life-এর জন্য prepare-ও করবে না। আমি শুধু চেষ্টা করছি, ওর জীবনের প্রথম bully যেন আমি না হই।

আমি home-কে এমন একটা জায়গা বানাতে চাই, যেখানে ওকে নিজের প্রতিটা soft অংশ protect করে চলতে হবে না। ওর sensitivity এমন কোনো defect নয়, যেটা পৃথিবী mock করার আগেই family-কে mock করে ওর ভেতর থেকে বের করে দিতে হবে। কারণ sensitivity শুধু pain নয়। এটা empathy। Imagination। Attention। Creativity। অন্যেরা যা miss করে, সেটা notice করার ক্ষমতা। যারা ওকে ভালোবাসার কথা, তাদের survive করার জন্য আমি চাই না ওকে কম sensitive হয়ে যেতে হোক।

আমি জানি, আমার সন্তান কোনো scar ছাড়াই বড় হবে—এই promise আমি করতে পারি না। কোনো মা-বাবাই সেই promise পান না। আমি mistake করব। কখনো বেশি sharp কথা বলব, ওকে ভুল বুঝব অথবা নিজের exhaustion আর conditioning থেকে respond করব। Cycle break করার মানে perfect মা হয়ে যাওয়া নয়। আমার intention ছিল না—এই excuse দিয়ে harm-টাকে defend না করাই cycle break করা। Notice করা, sorry বলা, repair করা এবং পরেরবার অন্যভাবে চেষ্টা করা।

হয়তো আমি আমার ছেলেকে সব scar থেকে বাঁচাতে পারব না। কিন্তু ইচ্ছে করে সেই scar কেটে দিয়ে সেটাকে discipline বলব না। ওর pain-কে joke বানিয়ে affection বলব না। ওকে humiliate করে পরে ওর sensitivity-কেই problem বানাব না। হয়তো এমন impression রেখে যেতে পারব, যেগুলোকে wound হয়ে উঠতে হবে না।

সেই হিসেবে আমার মা আমাকে parenting নিয়ে কিছু শিখিয়েছেন—যদিও wish করি, lesson-টার cost এত বেশি না হতো। অসম্ভব painful clarity দিয়ে তিনি আমাকে শিখিয়েছেন, নিজের সন্তানের সঙ্গে আমি কোনো দিন কী করতে চাই না।

আমি চাই, কেউ room-এ ঢোকার পরও আমার ছেলে খেলা চালিয়ে যাক। গান গাওয়ার আগে সবার মুখ check না করুক। Music শুনে body নড়তে চাইলে নাচুক। অদ্ভুত character বানাক, ridiculous voice করুক এবং নিজের প্রতিটা harmless version explore করুক—পরে কেউ সেটা ওর বিরুদ্ধে ব্যবহার করবে কি না, এই ভয় ছাড়াই।

ছয় বছরের সেই মেয়েটির হাতে cassette-টা আমি ফিরিয়ে দিতে পারব না। কিন্তু আমার ছেলেকে যেন নিজেরটা লুকিয়ে রাখতে না হয়, সেটা নিশ্চিত করার চেষ্টা করতে পারি।

এখন আমি যা জানি

আমি জানি না, আমি actor হতাম কি না। Voice acting try করতাম কি না, confidently গান গাইতাম কি না অথবা wedding-এ খুব খারাপ কিন্তু খুব আনন্দ নিয়ে নাচতাম কি না—জানি না। ওই alternate life-গুলো measure করা impossible। শুধু জানি, choice-টা আমার হওয়া উচিত ছিল।

Cassette-টা কোনো ridiculous ছোট মেয়েকে capture করেনি। নিজের voice কী কী করতে পারে, সেটা আবিষ্কার করতে থাকা একটা creative শিশুকে capture করেছিল। Dance move-টা কোনো vulgar শিশুকে প্রকাশ করেনি। Music শুনে নড়তে চাওয়া বারো বছরের একটা মেয়েকে দেখিয়েছিল। আমার চুল অন্য কারও discipline-এর instrument ছিল না। আমার শরীর family project ছিল না। আমার private joy public property ছিল না।

Cassette হাতে দাঁড়িয়ে থাকা শিশুটিকে protect করতে আমি অতীতে ফিরে যেতে পারব না। আমার মাকে Play button চাপা থেকেও আটকাতে পারব না। কিন্তু CBT এবং CPT করার পর এখন অন্তত নিজের memory-তে সেই শিশুটার পাশে বসে তাকে বলতে পারি, তখন একজন adult-এর যা বলা উচিত ছিল: এটা তো খুব creative হয়েছে। তুমি নিজেই দুইটা voice করেছ? তুমি কি চাও আমি শুনি, নাকি এটা private রাখতে চাও?

আর যদি সে বলে এটা private, আমি সেটা protect করব। আমার ছেলের জন্যও একই privacy protect করতে পারি। Home-কে এমন জায়গা বানাতে পারি, যেখানে আনন্দ অনুভব করার আগে ওকে নিজের voice ছোট করতে হবে না, imagination লুকাতে হবে না বা আমার মুখের expression study করতে হবে না।

কারণ sensitive বাচ্চাদের “চামড়া মোটা” করার দরকার নেই। ওদের দরকার এমন adult, যাদের হাত একটু নরম, মুখটা একটু সংযত এবং একটা শিশুর vulnerability-কে entertainment না বানানোর মতো self-control আছে।

Joke-টা হয়তো ত্রিশ second স্থায়ী হয়। শিশুটি হয়তো ত্রিশ বছর খেলা বন্ধ রাখে।

A period is blood and tissue leaving the uterus. It is not bad blood. It is not punishment. It is not a monthly purification ceremony, and it certainly is not proof that somebody is dirty.

Yet for generations, girls have been handed two things with their first pad: a packet of shame and an instruction to suffer quietly.

Hide it. Do not say the word. Do not let anyone see the pad. Do not cook. Do not pray. Do not sit there. Do not complain. And whatever you do, do not make anybody else uncomfortable with the fact that your body exists.

No. Auntie is returning that package unopened.

Periods are natural. Shame is taught. Mild discomfort can happen. Disabling pain deserves attention. Bleeding may be part of your biology. Suffering is not a test of femininity.

Your body is not public property, and pain is not the rent you pay for living in it.

First, what is a period?

During a menstrual cycle, hormones prepare the lining of the uterus for a possible pregnancy. If pregnancy does not occur, that lining breaks down and leaves through the vagina as blood and tissue.

That is the whole unglamorous biological story.

Your uterus is not a rubbish bin. A period is not “toxins” escaping. Menstrual blood cannot ruin food, kill plants, weaken men, or contaminate a room. If somebody wants to practise a personal or religious tradition during menstruation, that is their choice. But choice disappears when a girl is frightened, shamed, excluded, or forced.

A freely chosen practice is one thing. A rule used to control somebody else’s body is another.

How shame becomes control

Not every menstrual taboo began with one villain plotting against women. Human beings have attached meanings to blood for thousands of years, often without modern knowledge of anatomy or infection. Some customs may have grown from practical needs for privacy, rest, water, or clean materials.

But do not let a tidy origin story distract you from what a rule does now.

When a menstruating girl is labelled impure, people can bar her from school, worship, food preparation, family life, or leadership. When her first period is treated as permission for marriage or sexual attention, puberty becomes a weapon against a child. When she learns that mentioning pain is embarrassing, she becomes easier to dismiss.

That is how ordinary embarrassment starts doing political work.

Menstrual exile can also be physically dangerous. Practices such as chhaupadi in parts of Nepal have forced girls and women into huts or animal shelters during menstruation, exposing them to cold, smoke, animals, assault, and isolation. A tradition does not become harmless because it is old.

And the modern world should not feel too smug. A girl hiding a pad in her sleeve, a student missing class because the toilets are unsafe, or an employee pretending she is fine while bleeding heavily are living with the same message in quieter clothes: manage your body without inconveniencing anybody else.

“Common” is not the same as “fine”

Here is one of the slipperiest words in women’s healthcare: normal.

It can mean expected. It can mean common. It can mean harmless. Or it can mean, “We have dismissed this so often that nobody investigates it anymore.” Those meanings are not interchangeable.

Some cramping, tiredness, breast tenderness, digestive changes, or mood changes can occur around a period. But pain that regularly stops you from sleeping, studying, working, walking, eating, or joining ordinary life is not something you should be told to “woman up” and endure.

Very painful periods can have several causes. Endometriosis is one possibility; adenomyosis, fibroids, infection, ovarian problems, and other conditions can also cause pain. Not every painful period means disease—but severe or persistent pain deserves a proper conversation and, when needed, an evaluation.

Heavy bleeding deserves attention too. Speak with a qualified healthcare professional if you:

• bleed for more than seven days;
• soak through a pad or tampon every hour for several hours;
• need to use more than one menstrual product at a time to contain the flow;
• repeatedly bleed through clothes or bedding;
• pass clots that seem unusually large for you;
• feel unusually exhausted, weak, dizzy, short of breath, or faint; or
• have periods that repeatedly stop you from attending school, work, or normal activities.

Heavy bleeding can lead to iron-deficiency anaemia, and in teenagers it can sometimes be a clue to a bleeding disorder. Keep a simple record of bleeding days, products used, flooding, clots, pain, medicines, and missed activities. You are not building a court case to prove that you hurt; you are giving a clinician useful information.

If you are fainting, struggling to breathe, having severe or rapidly worsening pain, or bleeding heavily while you might be pregnant, seek urgent medical help where you live.

No, you do not need a monthly “clean-out”

Some people worry that using hormonal medication to delay or stop bleeding makes blood pile up inside the uterus.

That is not how menstrual suppression works.

Many hormonal methods keep the uterine lining thinner, so there is less material to shed. Less lining can mean lighter bleeding, irregular spotting, or no bleeding. There is no secret reservoir of old blood waiting to poison you.

For many people, medically appropriate menstrual suppression is a legitimate healthcare choice. It may be considered for heavy bleeding, painful periods, endometriosis, adenomyosis, anaemia, menstrual migraine, disability, trauma, gender dysphoria, limited access to bathrooms—or simply because monthly bleeding makes life harder.

Yes, quality of life counts. You do not have to win the Suffering Olympics before asking what your options are.

But Auntie will not replace one commandment with another. You do not have to suppress your period to be liberated, and you do not have to bleed every month to be “natural.” Autonomy means receiving accurate information and making the decision that fits your health, priorities, and comfort.

Your options deserve a real conversation

Methods that may reduce or suppress bleeding include certain birth-control pills used continuously, patches, vaginal rings, progestin-only pills, injections, hormonal intrauterine devices, and the etonogestrel arm implant sold under names including Nexplanon.

Different methods behave differently in different bodies. Complete suppression is not guaranteed. Spotting or irregular bleeding is common with some options—especially the implant—and can be bothersome enough that some users discontinue it. Other possible effects depend on the method and the person. Your health history matters too; a method that suits your friend may not be suitable for you.

Ask the prescriber:

1. What result is realistic—no bleeding, lighter bleeding, or unpredictable spotting?
2. What side effects and warning signs should I know about?
3. Does my medical history or any medicine I take change the risks?
4. How long should I try it before deciding whether it suits me?
5. What happens if I want to stop or remove it?
6. Does it prevent pregnancy, and do I still need STI protection?

Hormonal menstrual suppression does not protect against sexually transmitted infections. Depending on the method, condoms or other barriers may still matter. And if pregnancy is possible, an unexpected change in bleeding may need a pregnancy test or medical advice.

A good clinician should explain, not pressure. “This is what I recommend and why” is healthcare. “Do as I say; you would not understand” is chauvinism wearing a lanyard.

About Nexplanon: useful, not magical

Nexplanon is a small implant placed under the skin of the upper arm. It releases etonogestrel, a progestin, and is primarily used to prevent pregnancy. Some people also have lighter bleeding or less period-related pain while using it. Others experience frequent, prolonged, or unpredictable bleeding. In clinical studies, changes in bleeding were the most common reason users stopped the implant.

So let us keep both truths on the table: it can be a liberating option for some people, and a frustrating option for others.

That is not a contradiction. That is informed consent.

Nobody should sell you a miracle, frighten you away from a reasonable option, or dismiss side effects because a method is convenient for the system. You are allowed to ask questions. You are allowed to change your mind. You are allowed to request removal.

“If birth control stops ovulation, does it save my eggs?”

Excellent question. The answer is no—but the reason is worth learning.

The ovaries are not a tidy egg carton that releases exactly one egg each month while every unused egg waits untouched. In a cycle, a group of follicles begins to develop. Usually one reaches ovulation; many others naturally break down through a process called atresia. Ovarian ageing and changes in egg number and quality continue with time even when hormonal contraception prevents ovulation.

So suppressing ovulation does not pause the biological clock or preserve fertility indefinitely.

Egg freezing, embryo freezing, and—in selected medical situations—ovarian-tissue freezing are different procedures intended to preserve reproductive options. They involve costs, procedures, uncertainties, and no guarantee of a future baby. Age at freezing and the number of eggs or embryos stored affect the chance of success.

Menstrual suppression may not preserve eggs, but it can still preserve something precious: days of school, work, sleep, movement, concentration, and ordinary life.

Relief does not need to extend fertility to be worthwhile.

“Natural” is biology, not a moral instruction

Periods are natural. So are headaches, infections, poor eyesight, miscarriage, and disease. “Natural” tells us that something occurs in nature; it does not tell us that the thing is harmless, desirable, compulsory, or morally superior.

We use glasses to see. Insulin to live. Anaesthetic during surgery. Wheelchairs to move. Medicine to treat pain. Human beings have always used knowledge and tools to make bodies safer and lives more liveable.

Then a girl asks for relief from period pain and suddenly somebody becomes a philosopher of nature.

How convenient.

The suspicion is rarely just about medicine. It comes from an old expectation that women and girls should absorb discomfort without disturbing the room. Be pleasant. Be productive. Be fertile—but only at an approved time. Be attractive—but not sexual. Bleed—but keep it invisible.

That double standard is not anatomy. It is social control.

Medicine does not get a free pass either

Tradition is not the only place where girls are dismissed. Healthcare can repeat the same bias when pain is minimised, symptoms are blamed on anxiety without proper assessment, or treatment is offered without explaining alternatives.

You deserve care that takes you seriously. You also deserve honesty: sometimes the first treatment does not work; sometimes a diagnosis takes time; sometimes evidence is incomplete; and every medicine involves trade-offs.

If you can, bring notes and say plainly:

“This pain or bleeding interferes with my life. I want to know what could be causing it, what my treatment options are, and what the plan is if the first option does not help.”

If you are dismissed, seeking another qualified opinion is reasonable. Being young does not make your symptoms imaginary. Being female does not make suffering your destiny.

What every girl deserves to learn

Before her first period, every girl should know:

• A period is a biological process, not dirt, punishment, or proof of womanhood.
• Menstrual blood is blood and uterine tissue; it is not poison.
• Bodies and cycles vary, especially in the first years after periods begin.
• Severe pain and very heavy bleeding deserve attention.
• Period products are tools, not objects of shame.
• Hormonal medicine has uses beyond preventing pregnancy.
• Menstrual suppression can be safe for many people, including adolescents after periods have begun, but the method must be chosen individually.
• No method guarantees a perfectly bleed-free life.
• Consent applies in healthcare: explanations, questions, privacy, and choice matter.
• Not every girl menstruates, not everyone who menstruates is a girl, and nobody’s gender or worth is proved by bleeding.

Most of all, she should learn this:

You do not earn dignity by suffering quietly.

Auntie’s last word

The question is not whether menstruation is natural. Of course it is.

The better questions are:

Why are we quicker to defend the tradition of suffering than the person who is suffering?

Why are people more frightened by the idea of safely stopping a period than by a girl missing school every month from pain?

Why is silence praised as maturity when speaking up could lead to care?

You may choose to menstruate without medication. You may ask about reducing or suppressing bleeding. You may try a treatment and decide it is not for you. None of those choices makes you more or less feminine, pure, grown, strong, or worthy.

Your body is not dirty.

Pain is not a moral duty.

Relief is not betrayal.

And anybody who needs your silence in order to keep you obedient is not protecting you.

— Auntie Gyn-y

Sources Auntie checked

• WHO: Menstrual health
• WHO statement on menstrual health and rights
• UN Women: Abolishing chhaupadi and breaking menstrual stigma in rural Nepal
• ACOG: General Approaches to Medical Management of Menstrual Suppression
• ACOG: Screening and Management of Bleeding Disorders in Adolescents With Heavy Menstrual Bleeding
• ACOG: Dysmenorrhea—Painful Periods
• FDA: Nexplanon prescribing information
• ASRM: Fertility preservation in patients with medical indications
• ASRM: Planned oocyte cryopreservation

Period হলো জরায়ুর ভেতরের lining থেকে রক্ত আর tissue শরীরের বাইরে বের হয়ে আসা। এটা “খারাপ রক্ত” না। কোনো পাপের শাস্তি না। মাসে একবার শরীরের শুদ্ধিকরণও না। আর কারও শরীর নোংরা—তার প্রমাণ তো একদমই না।

কিন্তু যুগের পর যুগ মেয়েদের প্রথম pad-এর সঙ্গে আরও দুটো জিনিস ধরিয়ে দেওয়া হয়েছে: এক প্যাকেট লজ্জা আর চুপচাপ কষ্ট সহ্য করার নির্দেশ।

লুকিয়ে রাখো। শব্দটা মুখে এনো না। কেউ যেন pad না দেখে। রান্নাঘরে যেও না। নামাজ-পূজা করো না। ওখানে বসো না। ব্যথা নিয়ে অভিযোগ করো না। আর খবরদার—তোমার শরীর যে সত্যি সত্যি আছে, সেটা মনে করিয়ে দিয়ে অন্য কাউকে uncomfortable করে দিও না!

না। Auntie এই প্যাকেট return to sender করে দিচ্ছে।

Period স্বাভাবিক। লজ্জাটা শেখানো হয়। হালকা অস্বস্তি হতে পারে। কিন্তু যে ব্যথায় জীবন থেমে যায়, সেটা গুরুত্ব পাওয়ার যোগ্য। Bleeding তোমার biology-র অংশ হতে পারে। কষ্ট সহ্য করা মেয়েলিত্বের পরীক্ষা না।

তোমার শরীর public property না। আর এই শরীরে থাকার ভাড়া হিসেবে তোমাকে ব্যথা সহ্য করতে হবে না।

আগে বুঝি—Period আসলে কী?

Menstrual cycle-এর সময় hormones জরায়ুর ভেতরের lining-কে সম্ভাব্য pregnancy-র জন্য তৈরি করে। Pregnancy না হলে সেই lining ভেঙে রক্ত আর tissue হিসেবে vagina বা যোনিপথ দিয়ে বের হয়ে আসে।

ব্যস। Biology-র সাদামাটা, একদম non-dramatic ঘটনা।

তোমার uterus কোনো মাসিক ময়লার ঝুড়ি না। Period মানে শরীর থেকে “toxins” বের হওয়া না। Menstrual blood খাবার নষ্ট করে না, গাছ মেরে ফেলে না, পুরুষকে দুর্বল করে না, আর কোনো ঘরকে অপবিত্রও করে না। কেউ নিজের ইচ্ছায় period-এর সময় কোনো ব্যক্তিগত বা ধর্মীয় নিয়ম মানতে চাইলে সেটা তার choice। কিন্তু ভয় দেখিয়ে, লজ্জা দিয়ে, আলাদা করে রেখে বা জোর করে কিছু মানানো হলে সেটা আর choice থাকে না।

নিজের ইচ্ছায় কোনো রীতি মানা এক কথা। অন্য কারও শরীর control করার জন্য নিয়ম চাপানো আরেক কথা।

লজ্জা কীভাবে control-এর হাতিয়ার হয়

সব menstrual taboo-র পেছনে একজন villain বসে মেয়েদের বিরুদ্ধে ষড়যন্ত্র করেছিল—ইতিহাস এত simple না। আধুনিক anatomy বা infection সম্পর্কে জানার বহু আগ থেকেই মানুষ রক্তের সঙ্গে রহস্য, ভয়, জীবন, মৃত্যু আর নানা বিশ্বাস জুড়ে দিয়েছে। কিছু নিয়ম হয়তো privacy, বিশ্রাম, পানি বা পরিষ্কার কাপড়ের বাস্তব প্রয়োজন থেকেও শুরু হয়েছিল।

কিন্তু কোনো রীতির শুরু কোথায়, সেই গল্পে এত মুগ্ধ হয়ো না যে রীতিটা এখন কী করছে, সেটাই চোখ এড়িয়ে যায়।

একজন menstruating মেয়েকে “অপবিত্র” বললে তাকে স্কুল, উপাসনা, রান্না, পারিবারিক জীবন বা নেতৃত্ব থেকে দূরে রাখা সহজ হয়। তার প্রথম period-কে বিয়ে বা sexual attention-এর অনুমতি হিসেবে ধরলে puberty-কে একটা শিশুর বিরুদ্ধেই অস্ত্র বানানো হয়। আর তাকে যদি শেখানো হয় যে ব্যথার কথা বলা লজ্জার, তাহলে তার কষ্টকে পাত্তা না দেওয়াও সহজ হয়ে যায়।

এভাবেই দৈনন্দিন অস্বস্তি আর লজ্জা একসময় ক্ষমতার কাজ করতে শুরু করে।

Period-এর সময় জোর করে আলাদা রাখাটা শারীরিকভাবেও বিপজ্জনক হতে পারে। Nepal-এর কিছু এলাকায় chhaupadi নামে এক প্রথায় মেয়ে আর নারীদের menstrual hut বা পশুর ঘরে থাকতে বাধ্য করা হয়েছে। এতে ঠান্ডা, ধোঁয়া, প্রাণীর আক্রমণ, sexual violence আর একাকিত্বের ঝুঁকি থাকে। কোনো প্রথা পুরোনো হলেই harmless হয়ে যায় না।

আর আধুনিক দুনিয়ারও বেশি ভাব নেওয়ার কিছু নেই। যে মেয়ে হাতার ভেতর pad লুকিয়ে toilet-এ যায়, নিরাপদ toilet না থাকায় স্কুল miss করে, বা যে কর্মী heavy bleeding নিয়েও মুখে হাসি লাগিয়ে কাজ করে—তাদেরও একই কথাই বলা হচ্ছে, শুধু একটু modern packaging-এ: তোমার শরীর তুমি সামলাও, কিন্তু অন্য কারও যেন একটুও অসুবিধা না হয়।

“অনেকেরই হয়” মানে “ঠিক আছে” না

Women’s healthcare-এ সবচেয়ে পিচ্ছিল শব্দগুলোর একটা হলো: normal।

Normal বলতে biologically expected বোঝাতে পারে। অনেকের হয়—সেটা বোঝাতে পারে। ক্ষতিকর না—সেটাও বোঝাতে পারে। আবার এর মানে এমনও হতে পারে, “এটা এতবার dismiss করেছি যে এখন আর কেউ খোঁজই নেয় না।” এগুলো এক জিনিস না।

Period-এর সময় কিছু cramp, ক্লান্তি, breast tenderness, পেটের সমস্যা বা mood change হতে পারে। কিন্তু যে ব্যথায় তুমি নিয়মিত ঘুমাতে, পড়তে, কাজ করতে, হাঁটতে, খেতে বা স্বাভাবিক জীবন কাটাতে পারছ না—সেটাকে “মেয়ে হয়েছ, সহ্য করো” বলে উড়িয়ে দেওয়া যাবে না।

খুব painful period-এর অনেক কারণ থাকতে পারে। Endometriosis একটা সম্ভাবনা। Adenomyosis, fibroid, infection, ovary-র সমস্যা বা অন্য condition-ও ব্যথা করতে পারে। সব painful period মানেই disease না—কিন্তু তীব্র বা বারবার হওয়া ব্যথা নিয়ে ঠিকমতো কথা বলা এবং দরকার হলে পরীক্ষা করানো উচিত।

Heavy bleeding-কেও পাত্তা দিতে হবে। Qualified healthcare professional-এর সঙ্গে কথা বলো যদি:

• সাত দিনের বেশি bleeding হয়;
• কয়েক ঘণ্টা ধরে প্রতি ঘণ্টায় pad বা tampon পুরো ভিজে যায়;
• flow সামলাতে একসঙ্গে একাধিক menstrual product ব্যবহার করতে হয়;
• বারবার কাপড় বা বিছানা ভিজে যায়;
• তোমার জন্য অস্বাভাবিক বড় clot বের হয়;
• খুব বেশি ক্লান্ত, দুর্বল, dizzy, শ্বাসকষ্ট বা faint লাগতে থাকে; অথবা
• period-এর কারণে নিয়মিত স্কুল, কাজ বা স্বাভাবিক activity বাদ দিতে হয়।

Heavy bleeding থেকে iron-deficiency anaemia হতে পারে। Teenager-দের ক্ষেত্রে এটা কখনো bleeding disorder-এর clue-ও হতে পারে। কোন দিন bleeding হয়েছে, কতগুলো product লেগেছে, flooding বা clot হয়েছে কি না, pain কেমন ছিল, কী medicine নিয়েছ আর কী কী কাজ miss হয়েছে—এগুলো সহজভাবে লিখে রাখো। ব্যথা সত্যি, সেটা প্রমাণ করার জন্য court case বানাচ্ছ না; clinician-কে কাজে লাগবে এমন information দিচ্ছ।

যদি faint করো, শ্বাস নিতে কষ্ট হয়, ব্যথা হঠাৎ খুব বেড়ে যায়, বা pregnancy-র chance থাকা অবস্থায় heavy bleeding হয়—তোমার এলাকায় যেভাবে urgent medical help পাওয়া যায়, সেভাবে সাহায্য নাও।

না, প্রতি মাসে শরীরের “clean-out” দরকার নেই

অনেকে ভয় পায়, hormonal medicine দিয়ে period delay বা বন্ধ করলে বুঝি রক্ত জরায়ুর ভেতর জমে থাকবে।

Menstrual suppression এভাবে কাজ করে না।

অনেক hormonal method জরায়ুর lining পাতলা রাখে, তাই shed করার মতো material-ও কম থাকে। Lining কম হলে bleeding হালকা হতে পারে, মাঝে মাঝে spotting হতে পারে, অথবা bleeding একেবারেই নাও হতে পারে। পুরোনো রক্তের কোনো গোপন ট্যাংক তোমার ভেতর জমে তোমাকে বিষাক্ত করছে না।

অনেকের জন্য medically appropriate menstrual suppression একদম valid healthcare choice। Heavy bleeding, painful period, endometriosis, adenomyosis, anaemia, menstrual migraine, disability, trauma, gender dysphoria, safe bathroom-এর অভাব—এসব কারণে এটা বিবেচনা করা যায়। এমনকি প্রতি মাসের bleeding তোমার জীবন কঠিন করে তুলছে—এটাও যথেষ্ট কারণ।

হ্যাঁ, quality of life-ও গুরুত্বপূর্ণ। সাহায্য চাইতে হলে আগে “কষ্টের Olympics”-এ gold medal জিততে হবে না।

কিন্তু Auntie একটা হুকুম ফেলে আরেকটা হুকুম বসাবে না। Liberated হতে period বন্ধ করতেই হবে—এমন না। আবার “natural” প্রমাণ করতে প্রতি মাসে bleed করতেই হবে—সেটাও না। Autonomy মানে ঠিক information পাওয়া, তারপর তোমার health, priority আর comfort অনুযায়ী সিদ্ধান্ত নেওয়া।

Option জানতে চাইলে আসল কথোপকথনটা এমন হওয়া উচিত

Bleeding কমানো বা suppress করার method-এর মধ্যে আছে কিছু birth-control pill একটানা খাওয়া, patch, vaginal ring, progestin-only pill, injection, hormonal IUD, আর etonogestrel arm implant—যেটা Nexplanon নামেও পাওয়া যায়।

আলাদা method আলাদা শরীরে আলাদাভাবে কাজ করে। Period পুরোপুরি বন্ধ হবেই—এমন guarantee নেই। কিছু option-এ spotting বা irregular bleeding common—বিশেষ করে implant-এ। কারও জন্য সেটা এত বিরক্তিকর হয় যে সে method-টা বন্ধ করে দেয়। অন্য side effect method আর মানুষভেদে আলাদা। তোমার health history-ও গুরুত্বপূর্ণ। তোমার বন্ধুর জন্য যেটা great, সেটা তোমার জন্য ঠিক নাও হতে পারে।

Prescriber-কে জিজ্ঞেস করো:

1. বাস্তবে কী result আশা করতে পারি—bleeding একদম বন্ধ, কম bleeding, নাকি unpredictable spotting?
2. কোন side effect আর warning sign জানা দরকার?
3. আমার medical history বা অন্য medicine-এর কারণে risk বদলাবে কি?
4. এটা আমার জন্য কাজ করছে কি না বুঝতে কত দিন try করা উচিত?
5. আমি বন্ধ করতে বা remove করতে চাইলে কী হবে?
6. এটা pregnancy prevent করে কি? STI protection-এর জন্য আলাদা কিছু লাগবে কি?

Hormonal menstrual suppression sexually transmitted infection বা STI থেকে protect করে না। Method অনুযায়ী condom বা অন্য barrier তখনও দরকার হতে পারে। আর pregnancy-র chance থাকলে bleeding হঠাৎ বদলে যাওয়ার কারণে pregnancy test বা medical advice দরকার হতে পারে।

ভালো clinician explain করবে, pressure দেবে না। “আমি এটা recommend করছি, কারণটা বলছি”—এটা healthcare। “আমি বলেছি, তাই করো; তুমি বুঝবে না”—এটা গলায় ID card ঝোলানো chauvinism।

Nexplanon: কাজে লাগতে পারে, কিন্তু magic না

Nexplanon হলো upper arm-এর চামড়ার নিচে বসানো ছোট একটা implant। এটা etonogestrel নামে এক ধরনের progestin release করে এবং মূলত pregnancy prevent করতে ব্যবহার হয়। কারও bleeding হালকা হয় বা period-related pain কমে। আবার কারও frequent, prolonged বা unpredictable bleeding হয়। Clinical study-তে bleeding pattern বদলে যাওয়াই implant বন্ধ করার সবচেয়ে common কারণ ছিল।

তাই দুটো সত্য একসঙ্গে টেবিলে রাখি: কারও জন্য এটা মুক্তির মতো কাজ করতে পারে, আর কারও জন্য ভীষণ frustrating হতে পারে।

এটা contradiction না। এটাই informed consent।

কেউ তোমার কাছে miracle বিক্রি করবে না, reasonable option থেকে অকারণে ভয় দেখিয়ে দূরে রাখবে না, আর system-এর জন্য method-টা convenient বলে তোমার side effect dismiss-ও করবে না। প্রশ্ন করার অধিকার তোমার আছে। সিদ্ধান্ত বদলানোর অধিকার আছে। Implant remove করতে বলার অধিকারও আছে।

“Birth control ovulation বন্ধ করলে কি আমার eggs বেঁচে থাকে?”

দারুণ প্রশ্ন। উত্তর হলো—না। কিন্তু কেন না, সেটা জানা দরকার।

Ovary কোনো গোছানো egg carton না, যেখান থেকে মাসে ঠিক একটা egg বের হয় আর বাকিগুলো অক্ষত অবস্থায় অপেক্ষা করে। একেক cycle-এ একদল follicle develop করা শুরু করে। সাধারণত একটা ovulation পর্যন্ত যায়; বাকি অনেকগুলো atresia নামে natural process-এ ভেঙে শরীরে absorb হয়ে যায়। Hormonal contraception ovulation বন্ধ করলেও সময়ের সঙ্গে ovarian ageing এবং egg-এর number ও quality-র পরিবর্তন চলতেই থাকে।

তাই ovulation suppress করলে biological clock pause হয় না, fertility-ও অনির্দিষ্টকাল ধরে জমিয়ে রাখা যায় না।

Egg freezing, embryo freezing, আর কিছু বিশেষ medical situation-এ ovarian-tissue freezing—এগুলো future reproductive option preserve করার আলাদা procedure। এগুলোর cost আছে, procedure আছে, uncertainty আছে, আর ভবিষ্যতে baby হবেই—এমন guarantee নেই। Freezing-এর সময় age এবং কত egg বা embryo রাখা হয়েছে, success-এর chance তার ওপরও depend করে।

Menstrual suppression হয়তো egg preserve করে না। কিন্তু এটা অন্য খুব মূল্যবান জিনিস বাঁচাতে পারে: স্কুল, কাজ, ঘুম, চলাফেরা, মনোযোগ আর সাধারণ জীবনের দিনগুলো।

Relief valuable হতে হলে fertility বাড়াতেই হবে—এমন কোনো কথা নেই।

“Natural” হলো biology—নৈতিক হুকুম না

Period natural। Headache, infection, চোখে কম দেখা, miscarriage আর disease-ও natural। “Natural” শুধু বলে কোনো কিছু প্রকৃতিতে ঘটে। এটা বলে না যে জিনিসটা harmless, ভালো, বাধ্যতামূলক বা morally superior।

দেখার জন্য glasses ব্যবহার করি। বাঁচার জন্য insulin। Surgery-তে anaesthetic। চলাফেরার জন্য wheelchair। Pain treat করতে medicine। মানুষ সব সময় knowledge আর tools ব্যবহার করে শরীরকে নিরাপদ আর জীবনকে একটু সহজ করেছে।

তারপর একটা মেয়ে period pain থেকে relief চাইতেই হঠাৎ কেউ কেউ প্রকৃতির philosopher হয়ে যায়।

কী convenient, তাই না?

সন্দেহটা শুধু medicine নিয়ে না। এর পেছনে পুরোনো expectation আছে—নারী আর মেয়েরা room-এর শান্তি নষ্ট না করে সব discomfort absorb করবে। হাসিমুখে থাকবে। কাজ করে যাবে। Fertile হবে—তবে সমাজ যখন অনুমতি দেবে তখন। Attractive হবে—কিন্তু নিজের sexuality থাকবে না। Bleed করবে—কিন্তু তার কোনো প্রমাণ দেখা যাবে না।

এই double standard anatomy না। এটা social control।

Medicine-কেও ছাড় দেওয়া হবে না

শুধু tradition-এই মেয়েদের dismiss করা হয় না। Healthcare-ও একই bias repeat করতে পারে—যখন pain ছোট করে দেখা হয়, proper assessment ছাড়াই সব symptom anxiety-র ঘাড়ে চাপানো হয়, বা alternative না বুঝিয়েই treatment ধরিয়ে দেওয়া হয়।

তুমি এমন care deserve করো যেখানে তোমার কথা seriously নেওয়া হবে। একই সঙ্গে honesty-ও deserve করো: প্রথম treatment সব সময় কাজ করে না; diagnosis পেতে সময় লাগতে পারে; evidence কখনো incomplete থাকে; আর প্রত্যেক medicine-এরই trade-off আছে।

পারলে কিছু notes নিয়ে যাও, তারপর সোজা করে বলো:

“এই pain বা bleeding আমার স্বাভাবিক জীবন নষ্ট করছে। এর কারণ কী হতে পারে, treatment option কী, আর প্রথম option কাজ না করলে next plan কী—আমি জানতে চাই।”

তোমাকে dismiss করা হলে আরেকজন qualified professional-এর opinion নেওয়া reasonable। তোমার বয়স কম বলে symptom কাল্পনিক না। তুমি মেয়ে বলে কষ্ট তোমার destiny না।

প্রত্যেক মেয়ের যা শেখা উচিত

প্রথম period আসার আগেই প্রত্যেক মেয়ের জানা উচিত:

• Period একটা biological process—নোংরা কিছু, শাস্তি বা womanhood-এর প্রমাণ না।
• Menstrual blood হলো রক্ত আর uterine tissue; এটা poison না।
• সবার body আর cycle একরকম না—বিশেষ করে period শুরু হওয়ার প্রথম কয়েক বছরে।
• তীব্র pain আর খুব heavy bleeding গুরুত্ব পাওয়ার যোগ্য।
• Period product হলো দরকারি tool, লজ্জার জিনিস না।
• Hormonal medicine শুধু pregnancy prevent করার জন্য ব্যবহার হয় না।
• Period শুরু হওয়ার পর adolescent-সহ অনেকের জন্য menstrual suppression safe option হতে পারে, কিন্তু method ব্যক্তি অনুযায়ী বেছে নিতে হয়।
• কোনো method-ই একদম bleed-free জীবন guarantee করে না।
• Healthcare-এও consent লাগে: explanation, প্রশ্ন, privacy আর choice গুরুত্বপূর্ণ।
• সব মেয়ের period হয় না, যারা menstruate করে তারা সবাই মেয়ে না, আর bleeding দিয়ে কারও gender বা মূল্য প্রমাণ হয় না।

সবচেয়ে জরুরি কথা:

চুপচাপ কষ্ট সহ্য করে কেউ dignity earn করে না। Dignity তোমার অধিকার।

Auntie’র শেষ কথা

Menstruation natural কি না—এটা আসল প্রশ্ন না। অবশ্যই natural।

ভালো প্রশ্নগুলো হলো:

যে মানুষটা কষ্ট পাচ্ছে তাকে protect করার চেয়ে কষ্ট সহ্য করার tradition defend করতে আমরা এত তাড়াতাড়ি যাই কেন?

একটা মেয়ে pain-এর জন্য প্রতি মাসে স্কুল miss করছে—এটা ignore করতে মানুষ যতটা না ভয় পায়, safely period বন্ধ করার কথায় তার চেয়ে বেশি ভয় পায় কেন?

মুখ খুললে care পাওয়া যেতে পারে, তবু চুপ থাকাকেই maturity বলা হয় কেন?

তুমি medicine ছাড়া period চালিয়ে যেতে পারো। Bleeding কমানো বা suppress করার option জানতে চাইতে পারো। কোনো treatment try করে পরে বলতে পারো, “এটা আমার জন্য না।” এর কোনোটাই তোমাকে বেশি বা কম feminine, পবিত্র, বড়, শক্ত বা মূল্যবান বানায় না।

তোমার শরীর নোংরা না।

ব্যথা কোনো নৈতিক দায়িত্ব না।

Relief নেওয়া নিজের শরীরের সঙ্গে বিশ্বাসঘাতকতা না।

আর তোমাকে বাধ্য রাখতে যার তোমার নীরবতা দরকার—সে তোমাকে protect করছে না।

— Auntie Gyn-y

Auntie যেসব source দেখে নিয়েছে

• WHO: Menstrual health
• WHO statement on menstrual health and rights
• UN Women: Abolishing chhaupadi and breaking menstrual stigma in rural Nepal
• ACOG: General Approaches to Medical Management of Menstrual Suppression
• ACOG: Screening and Management of Bleeding Disorders in Adolescents With Heavy Menstrual Bleeding
• ACOG: Dysmenorrhea—Painful Periods
• FDA: Nexplanon prescribing information
• ASRM: Fertility preservation in patients with medical indications
• ASRM: Planned oocyte cryopreservation

Back then, I did not know the word migraine. I could only say that I had a terrible headache. Thinking it might be a vision problem, my dad took me to an eye doctor and got me glasses, perhaps hoping they would solve it.

They did not.

Even worse, I often forgot to wear those glasses. That earned me harsh punishments, including being slapped ten times in a row. Ironically, the punishment for forgetting the thing that was supposed to cure my headaches only gave me more headaches—but that is a story for another time.

As I grew older, I quietly developed ways to avoid the things that made the pain worse. I preferred staying indoors. When I had to be outside, I kept my eyes closed whenever I could. When that was not possible, I learned to squint against the light.

Eventually, I adjusted.

Not because the migraines disappeared, but because I learned to live with the constant possibility of pain. At the time, I did not think of these things as accommodations or symptom management. I thought I was simply being difficult about sunlight.

Then I Got Pregnant

The migraines became significantly worse during my second trimester of pregnancy with Kabbo.

The pain became so intense that it made me throw up. I could not keep my eyes open. I could not tolerate light, and even ordinary sounds became unbearable. I spent entire days inside a blacked-out bedroom, relying on the quiet sound of an audiobook to keep me company.

Even then, the volume had to stay below a very specific threshold. One level too high, and the sound that had been comforting a second ago became another source of pain.

During that period, I was prescribed Gravol, mostly so I could sleep through the worst of the nausea and pain. Gravol contains dimenhydrinate, an anti-nausea medication that can cause significant drowsiness. It did not treat the migraine itself. It simply helped me survive the attack by sleeping through part of it.

Knowing what I know now, I also want to say this clearly: a new, severe, or dramatically worsening headache during pregnancy should not automatically be dismissed as hormones or migraine. Persistent severe headaches—especially with vision changes, swelling, high blood pressure, upper abdominal pain, confusion, or neurological symptoms—can be warning signs of conditions such as preeclampsia and need prompt medical assessment. The American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists explains the warning signs here.

What Is a Migraine, Anyway?

A migraine is not simply a very bad headache. It is a complex neurological disease that changes how the brain processes pain and sensory information.

The pain may throb or pulse and may affect one side of the head, both sides, or move around. An attack can also involve nausea, vomiting, exhaustion, brain fog, dizziness, and extreme sensitivity to light, sound, smell, or movement. Some people experience migraine symptoms without significant head pain at all. The National Institute of Neurological Disorders and Stroke describes migraine and its phases in more detail.

A migraine attack may move through four phases:

Prodrome → Aura for some people → Headache → Postdrome

Not everyone experiences every phase. Many people never have an aura. Some notice fatigue, neck stiffness, food cravings, mood changes, or excessive yawning hours before the pain begins. Others receive no recognizable warning at all.

The important thing is that the nervous system is not being dramatic. It is not “just sensitivity.” During an attack, ordinary light can hurt. Normal sound can hurt. Movement can hurt. Even thinking can feel like work.

When I hid inside a dark room, I was not avoiding life because I was lazy. Darkness was symptom management.

Why Does It Happen?

There is no single, neat answer.

Migraine appears to involve a combination of genetic susceptibility, brain chemistry, sensory processing, and environmental or bodily factors. Hormonal changes can influence migraine, which may have contributed to what happened during my pregnancy, but hormones are only one possible piece of the puzzle.

Commonly reported triggers include:

• Bright or flickering light
• Changes in sleep
• Stress—or the sudden release of stress
• Hormonal changes
• Dehydration
• Skipped meals
• Certain sounds or smells
• Weather changes
• Long periods of screen use

But triggers are not perfectly predictable. Something may trigger an attack one day and cause no problem the next. Sometimes several smaller triggers pile up until the nervous system crosses its threshold. Sometimes an attack happens without any obvious explanation.

That unpredictability is part of what makes migraine so exhausting. You are not only dealing with pain. You are constantly trying to calculate what your brain might tolerate today.

Finally, Someone Listened

After Kabbo was born, I continued hiding in the dark whenever I could. This became especially difficult because my job required me to spend hours looking at a computer screen. When a migraine arrived, I could barely open my eyes long enough to see what was on the screen, let alone work.

I brought it up with doctors again and again. Eventually, one of them truly listened and prescribed propranolol.

Propranolol is a beta-blocker that can be used to help prevent migraine attacks. It is not designed to stop an attack that has already begun, and it can take several weeks to make a noticeable difference. The NHS provides a useful explanation of propranolol for migraine prevention.

I still take my prescribed dose—10 mg, three times a day.

That is my dose, based on my health and my doctor’s instructions. It is not a recommendation for anyone else. Propranolol affects heart rate and blood pressure, may not be suitable for everyone, and should not be started, changed, or stopped suddenly without medical guidance.

It is also important to clarify something I misunderstood for a long time: propranolol is preventive, but that does not mean nothing can be done after an attack begins. Acute migraine treatments exist. The right rescue medication depends on the person, their health, other medications, pregnancy status, and the type and frequency of their attacks.

The Toolkit I Built One Attack at a Time

In my desperate search for ways to manage this painful, infuriating condition, I have built an entire migraine toolkit.

None of these things is a cure. Some help prevent attacks. Some reduce triggers. Some simply make the pain easier to endure. But when you live with migraine, “easier to endure” is not a small thing.

Propranolol

This is the preventive foundation of my routine. I take it consistently as prescribed to reduce the likelihood of an attack. I do not treat it as rescue medicine after the pain has already started.

Oakley Clifden Polarized Glasses

I use Oakley Clifden sunglasses with Prizm Deep Water Polarized lenses.

They were designed for high-light environments and have removable side shields and a bridge blocker that help block glare and reduce the amount of light reaching my eyes from different directions. The polarized lenses also cut glare from reflective surfaces such as roads, water, and snow.

They do not treat migraine, but they make it possible for me to spend time outdoors without feeling completely attacked by the light.

That distinction matters. These glasses are not a cure. They are an accommodation—one that lets me participate in ordinary life without paying quite as heavily for it afterward.

The American Migraine Foundation notes that sunglasses and tinted lenses can be useful tools for people experiencing migraine-related light sensitivity. Photophobia is reported by the vast majority of people with migraine.

Room-Darkening Curtains

Room-darkening curtains give me control over the light in at least one part of the house. During an attack, that room becomes my safe place.

This may sound excessive to someone who has never felt physical pain from ordinary daylight. To me, it is basic infrastructure.

The American Migraine Foundation includes blackout curtains among the practical strategies that may help manage light sensitivity at home. Its guide also discusses cold compresses, hydration, and reducing glare.

Cold Compresses and a Migraine Relief Cap

Cold has always been one of the fastest ways for me to make the pain feel slightly less violent. I use cold compresses, gel headbands, and a reusable migraine relief cap that surrounds the head with cooling pressure and can also cover the eyes.

The cap does not magically end an attack. It gives me cold, pressure, and darkness without requiring me to hold an ice pack against my head for an hour. That matters when even lifting an arm feels like too much work.

Shokz Clip-On Earphones

During an attack, complete silence can feel lonely, but regular in-ear headphones can create pressure and ear pain that make everything worse. I use Shokz OpenDots ONE, which clip onto the outer ear instead of sitting inside the ear canal.

They are not a migraine treatment. They simply allow me to listen to an audiobook without the uncomfortable plugged-ear sensation that ordinary earbuds can create.

I still keep the volume extremely low because open-ear does not mean sound cannot hurt.

Gravol

During pregnancy, my doctor prescribed Gravol to help with nausea and to let me sleep through some of the worst attacks. Its active ingredient, dimenhydrinate, treats nausea and vomiting and commonly causes drowsiness.

It was a survival tool, not a migraine cure. Anyone who is pregnant, breastfeeding, taking other sedating medications, or considering frequent use should speak with a doctor or pharmacist rather than copying what was prescribed to me.

Acupuncture

I have also tried acupuncture. The evidence is not absolute, but research suggests that it may modestly reduce migraine frequency for some people. It should be performed by a properly trained practitioner using sterile, single-use needles. The U.S. National Center for Complementary and Integrative Health summarizes the evidence and safety considerations.

The Small Daily Bureaucracy of Staying Okay

Today, with these preventive measures and accommodations in place, I am generally okay.

But okay does not mean cured.

My okay is held together by a small daily bureaucracy: medication, curtains, glasses, carefully controlled volume, cold caps, sleep, food, water, and knowing when to stop before my body stops me.

To another person, these things may look like an unnecessarily complicated collection of habits and products. To me, they are the infrastructure that lets me function.

If I miss even one important part of the routine—if the light is too bright, the sound is too loud, my sleep is disrupted, or I push myself beyond what my nervous system can manage—a migraine is always waiting to say a big old “hi.”

I did not outgrow migraine.

I finally learned its language, and then I built a life that listens.

Product note: I am not sponsored by any of the companies mentioned here. These links identify the products or types of tools I have personally used. What helps me may not help everyone, and personal comfort tools are not substitutes for diagnosis or medical treatment.

তখন migraine শব্দটাই আমি জানতাম না। শুধু বলতে পারতাম, আমার ভীষণ মাথাব্যথা করছে। আমার বাবা ভেবেছিলেন, হয়তো চোখের সমস্যার কারণে এমন হচ্ছে। তাই আমাকে eye doctor-এর কাছে নিয়ে গিয়ে চশমা করিয়ে দিলেন—হয়তো আশা করেছিলেন, চশমা পরলেই মাথাব্যথাটা ঠিক হয়ে যাবে।

হয়নি।

আরও খারাপ ব্যাপার হলো, আমি প্রায়ই সেই চশমা পরতে ভুলে যেতাম। তার জন্য আমাকে কঠিন শাস্তিও পেতে হতো—একবার তো টানা দশটা চড়ও খেয়েছিলাম। কী অদ্ভুত irony—যে জিনিসটা পরলে নাকি আমার মাথাব্যথা কমবে, সেটা ভুলে যাওয়ার শাস্তি আমাকে আরও মাথাব্যথা দিল। তবে সেটা আরেক দিনের গল্প।

বড় হতে হতে আমি চুপচাপ নিজের মতো করে migraine trigger এড়ানোর কায়দা বের করে ফেললাম। ঘরের ভেতরে থাকতে বেশি পছন্দ করতাম। বাইরে যেতেই হলে যখন পারতাম, চোখ বন্ধ করে রাখতাম। আর সেটাও সম্ভব না হলে, আলো থেকে বাঁচতে চোখ কুঁচকে তাকাতে শিখে গেলাম।

একসময় মানিয়ে নিলাম।

Migraine চলে গিয়েছিল বলে না। ব্যথা যেকোনো সময় শুরু হতে পারে—এই ভয়টা সঙ্গে নিয়েই বাঁচতে শিখেছিলাম বলে। তখন এগুলোকে accommodation বা symptom management হিসেবে ভাবিনি। আমার মনে হতো, আমি বুঝি শুধু সূর্যের আলো নিয়ে অযথা বেশি ঝামেলা করছি।

তারপর আমি Pregnant হলাম

কাব্বোকে নিয়ে pregnancy-র second trimester-এ আমার migraine অনেক বেশি খারাপ হয়ে গেল।

ব্যথা এত তীব্র হতো যে আমার বমি হয়ে যেত। চোখ খুলে রাখতে পারতাম না। কোনো আলো সহ্য করতে পারতাম না। এমনকি সাধারণ শব্দও অসহ্য লাগত। দিনের পর দিন পুরো অন্ধকার করে রাখা bedroom-এ পড়ে থাকতাম। শুধু খুব আস্তে একটা audiobook চালিয়ে রাখতাম, যাতে অন্তত একা না লাগে।

সেটার volume-ও একটা নির্দিষ্ট level-এর নিচে রাখতে হতো। এক level বেশি হলেই, যে শব্দটা এক মুহূর্ত আগে আমাকে একটু আরাম দিচ্ছিল, সেটাই পরের মুহূর্তে নতুন একটা যন্ত্রণায় পরিণত হতো।

সেই সময় আমাকে Gravol prescribe করা হয়েছিল—মূলত nausea আর ব্যথার সবচেয়ে খারাপ সময়টা যেন ঘুমিয়ে কাটাতে পারি। Gravol-এ dimenhydrinate থাকে। এটি nausea কমানোর ওষুধ এবং এতে অনেক ঘুম পেতে পারে। এটি আমার migraine-এর চিকিৎসা করেনি। শুধু attack-এর কিছুটা সময় ঘুমিয়ে পার করে আমাকে টিকে থাকতে সাহায্য করেছিল।

এখন যা জানি, তা জানার পর একটা কথা খুব পরিষ্কারভাবে বলতে চাই: pregnancy-র সময় নতুন করে শুরু হওয়া, খুব তীব্র, বা হঠাৎ অনেক খারাপ হয়ে যাওয়া মাথাব্যথাকে শুধু hormone বা migraine বলে উড়িয়ে দেওয়া উচিত নয়। মাথাব্যথা যদি না কমে—বিশেষ করে তার সঙ্গে দৃষ্টিশক্তির পরিবর্তন, শরীর ফুলে যাওয়া, high blood pressure, পেটের ওপরের দিকে ব্যথা, confusion বা অন্য কোনো neurological symptom থাকে—তাহলে সেটা preeclampsia-র মতো গুরুতর সমস্যার warning sign হতে পারে। সেক্ষেত্রে দ্রুত medical assessment দরকার। American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists এখানে warning signsগুলো বুঝিয়ে বলেছে।

মাইগ্রেন জিনিসটা আসলে কী?

Migraine শুধু খুব খারাপ ধরনের মাথাব্যথা নয়। এটি একটি জটিল neurological condition, যা আমাদের মস্তিষ্ক pain আর sensory information কীভাবে process করে, সেটাকেই প্রভাবিত করে।

ব্যথাটা দপদপ বা ধুকপুক করতে পারে। মাথার এক পাশে, দুই পাশেই, অথবা জায়গা বদলে বদলে হতে পারে। Migraine attack-এর সঙ্গে nausea, vomiting, প্রচণ্ড ক্লান্তি, brain fog, মাথা ঘোরা এবং আলো, শব্দ, গন্ধ বা নড়াচড়ার প্রতি তীব্র sensitivity থাকতে পারে। আবার কারও migraine-এর অন্যান্য symptoms থাকলেও মাথাব্যথা খুব বেশি নাও হতে পারে। National Institute of Neurological Disorders and Stroke এখানে migraine এবং এর বিভিন্ন phase নিয়ে আরও বিস্তারিত বলেছে।

একটি migraine attack চারটি phase-এর মধ্য দিয়ে যেতে পারে:

Prodrome → কারও কারও ক্ষেত্রে Aura → Headache → Postdrome

সবাই প্রতিটা phase অনুভব করেন না। অনেকের কখনো aura হয় না। কারও ব্যথা শুরু হওয়ার কয়েক ঘণ্টা আগেই ক্লান্তি, ঘাড় শক্ত হয়ে যাওয়া, বিশেষ কোনো খাবার খেতে ইচ্ছা করা, mood change বা অতিরিক্ত হাই ওঠার মতো লক্ষণ দেখা দেয়। আবার কেউ কোনো warning-ই পান না।

সবচেয়ে জরুরি কথা হলো, nervous system এখানে নাটক করছে না। এটা “just sensitivity” নয়। Migraine attack-এর সময় সাধারণ আলোও ব্যথা দিতে পারে। স্বাভাবিক শব্দও ব্যথা দিতে পারে। নড়াচড়া ব্যথা দিতে পারে। এমনকি চিন্তা করাটাও তখন পরিশ্রমের মতো লাগে।

আমি যখন অন্ধকার ঘরে লুকিয়ে থাকতাম, তখন অলস বলে জীবন থেকে পালাচ্ছিলাম না। সেই অন্ধকারটাই ছিল আমার symptom management।

এটা কেন হয়?

এর কোনো এক লাইনের, গোছানো উত্তর নেই।

Migraine-এর পেছনে genetics, brain chemistry, sensory processing এবং শরীর ও environment-এর বিভিন্ন factor একসঙ্গে কাজ করে বলে মনে করা হয়। Hormonal change migraine-কে প্রভাবিত করতে পারে। আমার pregnancy-র সময় যা হয়েছিল, তার পেছনে এটাও একটা কারণ হয়ে থাকতে পারে। কিন্তু hormone পুরো puzzle-এর মাত্র একটি অংশ।

সাধারণ trigger-এর মধ্যে আছে:

• তীব্র বা flickering light
• ঘুমের routine বদলে যাওয়া
• Stress—এমনকি হঠাৎ stress কমে যাওয়াও
• Hormonal change
• Dehydration
• সময়মতো না খাওয়া
• কিছু নির্দিষ্ট শব্দ বা গন্ধ
• Weather change
• অনেকক্ষণ screen-এর দিকে তাকিয়ে থাকা

কিন্তু trigger সব সময় একইভাবে কাজ করে না। কোনো একটা জিনিস আজ attack trigger করতে পারে, আবার কাল সেটাতে কিছুই না-ও হতে পারে। কখনো অনেকগুলো ছোট ছোট trigger একসঙ্গে জমতে জমতে nervous system তার threshold পার করে ফেলে। আবার কখনো কোনো স্পষ্ট কারণ ছাড়াই attack চলে আসে।

এই unpredictability-টাই migraine-কে এত ক্লান্তিকর করে তোলে। আপনাকে শুধু ব্যথা সামলাতে হয় না। সারাক্ষণ হিসাব করতে হয়—আজ আমার brain ঠিক কতটুকু সহ্য করতে পারবে?

অবশেষে একজন সত্যি শুনলেন

কাব্বোর জন্মের পরও সুযোগ পেলেই আমি অন্ধকারে লুকিয়ে থাকতাম। কিন্তু আমার কাজের জন্য ঘণ্টার পর ঘণ্টা computer screen-এর দিকে তাকিয়ে থাকতে হতো। Migraine শুরু হলে screen-এ কী আছে, সেটা দেখার মতো সময় পর্যন্ত চোখ খুলে রাখতে পারতাম না। কাজ করা তো আরও দূরের কথা।

আমি ডাক্তারদের কাছে একই কথা বারবার বলেছি। অবশেষে একজন ডাক্তার সত্যি সত্যি শুনলেন এবং আমাকে propranolol prescribe করলেন।

Propranolol একটি beta-blocker, যা migraine attack prevent করতে ব্যবহার করা হয়। Attack শুরু হয়ে যাওয়ার পর সেটি থামানোর জন্য এই ওষুধ তৈরি হয়নি। কাজ করছে কি না বোঝার জন্যও কয়েক সপ্তাহ সময় লাগতে পারে। Migraine prevention-এ propranolol কীভাবে ব্যবহার করা হয়, NHS এখানে সহজভাবে বুঝিয়েছে।

আমি এখনো আমার prescribed dose নিই—দিনে তিনবার ১০ mg করে।

এটা আমার dose, আমার health condition এবং আমার doctor-এর নির্দেশ অনুযায়ী ঠিক করা। এটা অন্য কারও জন্য recommendation নয়। Propranolol heart rate এবং blood pressure-এ প্রভাব ফেলতে পারে। এটি সবার জন্য উপযুক্ত নয় এবং medical guidance ছাড়া হঠাৎ শুরু করা, dose বদলানো বা বন্ধ করা উচিত নয়।

আরেকটা বিষয় পরিষ্কার করা জরুরি। অনেক দিন আমি ভাবতাম, propranolol যেহেতু preventive, attack শুরু হয়ে গেলে আর কিছুই করার নেই। কিন্তু সেটা ঠিক নয়। Acute migraine treatment-ও আছে। কার জন্য কোন rescue medication ঠিক হবে, সেটা তার health, অন্য ওষুধ, pregnancy status এবং attack-এর ধরন ও frequency-র ওপর নির্ভর করে।

একেকটা Attack সামলাতে সামলাতে বানানো আমার Toolkit

এই যন্ত্রণাদায়ক এবং বিরক্তিকর condition-টা সামলানোর কোনো উপায় খুঁজতে খুঁজতে আমি একটা পুরো migraine toolkit বানিয়ে ফেলেছি।

এর কোনোটাই cure নয়। কিছু জিনিস attack prevent করতে সাহায্য করে। কিছু trigger কমায়। আর কিছু শুধু ব্যথাটা একটু সহ্য করার মতো করে। কিন্তু আপনি যখন migraine নিয়ে বাঁচেন, তখন “একটু সহ্য করার মতো” হওয়াটাও মোটেও ছোট ব্যাপার নয়।

Propranolol

এটাই আমার preventive routine-এর foundation। Attack হওয়ার সম্ভাবনা কমাতে doctor-এর prescription অনুযায়ী নিয়মিত খাই। ব্যথা শুরু হওয়ার পর এটাকে rescue medicine হিসেবে ব্যবহার করি না।

Oakley Clifden Polarized Glasses

আমি Prizm Deep Water Polarized lens-সহ Oakley Clifden sunglasses ব্যবহার করি।

এগুলো খুব বেশি আলোর environment-এর জন্য design করা। এর removable side shield এবং bridge blocker বিভিন্ন দিক থেকে আসা আলো ও glare আটকাতে সাহায্য করে। Polarized lens রাস্তা, পানি বা বরফের মতো reflective surface থেকে আসা glare-ও কমায়।

এই glasses migraine-এর চিকিৎসা করে না। কিন্তু এগুলো পরে আমি বাইরে যেতে পারি—আলো যেন চারদিক থেকে আমাকে আক্রমণ করছে, সেই অনুভূতিটা কিছুটা কমে।

এই পার্থক্যটা জরুরি। চশমাটা কোনো cure নয়। এটি আমার accommodation—যার কারণে আমি সাধারণ জীবনের কিছু কাজে অংশ নিতে পারি, পরে তার জন্য আগের মতো এত বড় মূল্য না দিয়েই।

American Migraine Foundation বলছে, migraine-related light sensitivity-তে sunglasses ও tinted lens অনেকের জন্য কাজে লাগতে পারে। Migraine-এ আক্রান্ত বেশির ভাগ মানুষেরই photophobia বা আলো সহ্য না হওয়ার সমস্যা থাকে।

Room-Darkening Curtains

Room-darkening curtain অন্তত ঘরের একটা জায়গার আলো আমার control-এ রাখে। Attack-এর সময় ওই ঘরটাই আমার safe place হয়ে যায়।

যিনি কখনো সাধারণ দিনের আলো থেকেও শারীরিক ব্যথা অনুভব করেননি, তার কাছে এটা হয়তো বাড়াবাড়ি মনে হতে পারে। আমার কাছে এটা basic infrastructure।

American Migraine Foundation light sensitivity সামলানোর practical strategy হিসেবে blackout curtain-এর কথাও বলেছে। তাদের guide-এ cold compress, hydration এবং glare কমানোর কথাও আছে।

Cold Compress এবং Migraine Relief Cap

Cold সব সময়ই আমার ব্যথাটাকে একটু কম হিংস্র মনে করানোর সবচেয়ে দ্রুত উপায়গুলোর একটি। আমি cold compress, gel headband এবং reusable migraine relief cap ব্যবহার করি। Cap-টা পুরো মাথায় ঠান্ডা pressure দেয় এবং চোখও ঢেকে রাখতে পারে।

এটা কোনো জাদুর মতো attack শেষ করে দেয় না। কিন্তু এক ঘণ্টা হাত দিয়ে ice pack মাথায় চেপে না রেখেই আমাকে ঠান্ডা, pressure আর অন্ধকার দেয়। যখন একটা হাত তোলাও বিরাট কাজ মনে হয়, তখন এই সুবিধাটা অনেক বড়।

Shokz Clip-On Earphones

Attack-এর সময় পুরো নীরবতা খুব একা লাগতে পারে। কিন্তু সাধারণ in-ear headphones কানের ভেতরে pressure আর ব্যথা তৈরি করে আমার অবস্থা আরও খারাপ করে দেয়। আমি Shokz OpenDots ONE ব্যবহার করি। এগুলো ear canal-এর ভেতরে ঢোকে না; কানের বাইরের দিকে clip হয়ে থাকে।

এগুলো migraine treatment নয়। এগুলো শুধু সাধারণ earbuds-এর মতো কান বন্ধ হয়ে থাকার অস্বস্তি ছাড়াই আমাকে audiobook শুনতে দেয়।

তারপরও volume একদম কম রাখি। কারণ open-ear হলেই শব্দ আর ব্যথা দিতে পারবে না—এমন কোনো কথা নেই।

Gravol

Pregnancy-র সময় nausea কমাতে এবং কিছু ভয়ংকর attack ঘুমিয়ে পার করতে আমার doctor আমাকে Gravol prescribe করেছিলেন। এর active ingredient dimenhydrinate nausea এবং vomiting কমায় এবং এতে সাধারণত ঘুম পায়।

এটা আমার survival tool ছিল, migraine cure নয়। কেউ pregnant বা breastfeeding হলে, অন্য কোনো sedating medication নিলে, অথবা নিয়মিত Gravol নেওয়ার কথা ভাবলে আমার prescription নকল না করে doctor বা pharmacist-এর সঙ্গে কথা বলা উচিত।

Acupuncture

আমি acupuncture-ও try করেছি। Evidence একেবারে চূড়ান্ত নয়, তবে research অনুযায়ী কিছু মানুষের ক্ষেত্রে acupuncture migraine-এর frequency অল্প হলেও কমাতে সাহায্য করতে পারে। এটি অবশ্যই properly trained practitioner-এর কাছ থেকে sterile, single-use needle দিয়ে করানো উচিত। U.S. National Center for Complementary and Integrative Health এখানে evidence এবং safety considerations-এর একটা summary দিয়েছে।

মোটামুটি ভালো থাকার ছোট্ট Daily Bureaucracy

এখন এই preventive measure আর accommodation-গুলো ঠিকমতো মেনে চললে আমি সাধারণত মোটামুটি ভালো থাকি।

কিন্তু ভালো থাকা আর সেরে যাওয়া এক কথা নয়।

আমার ভালো থাকাটা একটা ছোটখাটো daily bureaucracy দিয়ে ধরে রাখা: ওষুধ, curtain, glasses, সাবধানে control করা volume, cold cap, ঘুম, খাবার, পানি—আর আমার শরীর আমাকে জোর করে থামিয়ে দেওয়ার আগেই কখন নিজে থেকে থামতে হবে, সেটা বোঝা।

অন্য কারও চোখে এগুলো অযথা জটিল কিছু অভ্যাস আর product-এর collection মনে হতে পারে। আমার কাছে এগুলোই সেই infrastructure, যার ওপর ভর করে আমি স্বাভাবিকভাবে কাজ করতে পারি।

Routine-এর একটা জরুরি অংশও যদি বাদ পড়ে—আলো খুব বেশি হয়ে যায়, শব্দ খুব জোরে হয়, ঘুম নষ্ট হয়, অথবা nervous system যতটুকু সামলাতে পারে তার চেয়ে বেশি নিজেকে ঠেলে দিই—তাহলে migraine সব সময়ই একটা বিরাট “হাই” বলতে অপেক্ষা করে আছে।

আমি migraine-কে পেছনে ফেলে বড় হয়ে যাইনি।

আমি অবশেষে তার ভাষাটা শিখেছি। তারপর এমন একটা জীবন তৈরি করেছি, যে জীবন সেই ভাষাটা শোনে।

Product note: এখানে উল্লেখ করা কোনো company আমাকে sponsor করেনি। Link-গুলো শুধু আমি ব্যক্তিগতভাবে ব্যবহার করেছি এমন product বা tool চিহ্নিত করার জন্য দেওয়া। যে জিনিস আমাকে সাহায্য করেছে, সেটা সবার জন্য কাজ করবে এমন কোনো কথা নেই। আর ব্যক্তিগত comfort tool কখনো proper diagnosis বা medical treatment-এর বিকল্প নয়।

I was six or seven years old when the pain started. It was a sharp, persistent ache running through my back and legs. It made normal childhood things feel impossible, and nights were terrible. But at six years old, I did not have the vocabulary to explain what I was feeling. I did not know the word radiating. I only knew that I hurt.

What followed was a decades-long parade through doctors’ offices. I saw at least ten specialists across neurology, orthopedics, gynecology, and general medicine. At different points, I was prescribed strong medications, including corticosteroids, to quiet the symptoms. Some of those medicines may have been reasonable attempts to help. The problem was that the pain kept returning, nobody could explain why, and eventually my continued suffering was treated as evidence against me.

Several doctors told me I was faking it. My parents came from a generation that treated doctors as unquestionable authorities. So, as doctor after doctor failed to find an explanation, my parents’ anxiety grew. Eventually, they began wondering out loud whether I was lying too.

Imagine being a child in pain and slowly realizing that the adults responsible for protecting you have started debating whether your pain exists.

It took until I was thirty-six—nearly three decades later—to receive an explanation for the sciatic pain and learn a few movement adjustments that transformed my quality of life.

Can you believe that? I had to wait thirty years. Thirty fucking years for something as recognizable as sciatica.

If even one doctor had genuinely listened to me—really talked to me and allowed me to explain—I might not have spent thirty years of my life in pain. I might not have stayed awake night after night crying. I might not have lost entire days to pain that would not leave, no matter what I did. I could not sit comfortably. I could not lie down comfortably. Sometimes I could not find a single position that made existing inside my own body feel bearable.

Thirty years—and then one doctor finally listened. They asked me about the pain and encouraged me to keep talking instead of deciding what the answer was before I had finished the question. Once someone actually heard the whole story, they promptly recognized the sciatica and helped me make changes that improved my life.

So no, I am not saying all doctors are bad. I am saying almost the opposite. It was a doctor—not someone outside medicine—who finally diagnosed me correctly and made my life better. That is exactly why the previous thirty years make me so angry. Medicine could help me. I simply had to find a doctor willing to listen long enough to use it.

Listening is not an optional kindness doctors offer when they have extra time. Listening is an active part of diagnosis. So is asking questions. So is encouraging patients to speak instead of rushing to fit them inside a conclusion that has already been made.

Taboo, judgment, and bias have no place in a doctor’s office. Not when someone’s health—and potentially decades of their life—depends on being heard.

It would almost be easier to accept if this were only my story.

It is not.

How Many Ways Can a Woman Be Told She Is Overreacting?

A woman has severe period pain?

“That is normal. Periods hurt.”

She has pelvic pain, painful sex, or difficulty with penetration?

“Relax. Stop being afraid. Try harder.”

She reports exhaustion, widespread pain, dizziness, migraines, or brain fog?

“It is probably stress.”

She has unexplained weight changes, irregular periods, or excessive hair growth?

“Lose weight first.”

She reports chest pain or breathlessness?

“Are you anxious?”

She struggles with pain after childbirth?

“You had a baby. What did you expect?”

The disease changes. The sentence barely does.

Women with endometriosis, adenomyosis, PCOS, fibroids, vulvodynia, vaginismus, migraine, fibromyalgia, ME/CFS, Long COVID, autoimmune illnesses, chronic musculoskeletal pain, and heart disease have all described some version of the same struggle: before receiving treatment, they must first prove that they are reliable witnesses to what is happening inside their own bodies.

That does not mean every woman with one of these conditions is dismissed. It does not mean every delayed diagnosis is caused by sexism or every doctor is cruel. It means the pattern is large enough that we can no longer keep calling each case an unfortunate misunderstanding.

Research has found that women’s pain is more likely to be judged as exaggerated, emotionally driven, psychosomatic, vague, less credible, less urgent, or less severe—particularly when no visible cause has yet been found. International review of gender bias in musculoskeletal-pain care

One emergency-department study found that female patients with pain complaints were less likely than male patients to receive pain medication, and clinicians were more likely to doubt women’s reports of pain. Study of sex bias in pain-management decisions

This bias is not distributed equally. Race, disability, body size, poverty, gender identity, communication differences, and a history of mental illness can all affect whose pain is considered believable. Research has found particularly severe underestimation of pain among women of colour. Study of intersecting race and gender bias in pain assessment

Some women enter the examination room already carrying a credibility deficit.

This Is Not Only About “Women’s Diseases”

The problem is especially visible in reproductive and gynecological care, but it does not stop there. A recent systematic review of endometriosis research found reported diagnostic times ranging from less than a year to twelve years, depending on the country, population, and definition used. There is no single reliable global average, but substantial delay remains well documented. Systematic review of time to endometriosis diagnosis

In a large international study of women with PCOS, more than one-third reported waiting longer than two years for a diagnosis, and nearly half saw at least three healthcare professionals first. Only a small minority were satisfied with the information they received when finally diagnosed. Study of PCOS diagnostic experiences

The same problem appears outside gynecology. A systematic review of axial spondyloarthritis found longer diagnostic delays among women and noted that the condition had historically been understood through a more typically male presentation. Systematic review of sex bias in axial-spondyloarthritis diagnosis

A recent review of lupus diagnosis also identified being female as a factor associated with longer diagnostic delay. Systematic review of delayed lupus diagnosis and treatment

Patients with migraine, fibromyalgia, ME/CFS, and Long COVID have described having to prove that their symptoms are physical and legitimate rather than products of anxiety, weakness, or imagination. Research on Long COVID, contested illnesses, and medical gaslighting

Even heart disease is not immune. Women presenting with chest pain have been found less likely than men to receive cardiology referrals in some settings, while women’s cardiovascular symptoms remain vulnerable to being mistaken for anxiety or considered less urgent. American Heart Association report on women’s heart health

So no, this is not simply about periods. It is about credibility.

Who is believed immediately? Who must arrive with folders, photographs, spreadsheets, symptom diaries, witnesses, and years of suffering before someone says, “Perhaps we should investigate”? And who gives up before that happens?

When “I Don’t Know” Becomes “Nothing Is Wrong”

Not every medical mistake is gaslighting. Doctors are human. Symptoms overlap, tests have limitations, and some conditions are genuinely difficult to identify. Two competent doctors can look at incomplete evidence and reach different conclusions. A doctor saying, “I do not know yet,” is not gaslighting.

The problem begins when “I cannot explain your pain” becomes “You are not in pain”; when “The test was normal” becomes “You imagined it”; and when “I do not know what this is” becomes “You are dramatic, anxious, attention-seeking, or lying.”

Medical gaslighting is an increasingly used term for the repeated dismissal or distortion of a patient’s symptoms and lived experience in a way that causes the patient to doubt their own perception or judgment. Researchers still debate whether deliberate intent is necessary. Some use the term medical invalidation when the dismissal may not be intentionally manipulative but still leaves the patient confused, ashamed, and unsure whether to trust their own body. Review of medical gaslighting and medical invalidation

I cannot know what every doctor intended. I know what their words did.

They taught me to question myself.

Why Does This Keep Happening?

Is it cultural? Ignorance? A failure of medical education? Sexism? A healthcare system that gives doctors fifteen minutes to solve problems that have existed for fifteen years? Is it because uncertainty frightens both doctors and patients, so “You are anxious” sometimes feels more comfortable than “I do not know”?

The answer is probably all of it.

Women were historically excluded or underrepresented in important areas of clinical research. In the United States, the NIH Revitalization Act of 1993 required women and racial and ethnic minority groups to be included in NIH-funded clinical research unless there was a valid reason for exclusion. That was a major correction, but it did not apply to every clinical trial everywhere or instantly repair decades of missing knowledge. Inclusion alone is not enough; studies must enrol enough women and analyse and report outcomes by sex when relevant. NIH inclusion policy

Then there is culture. In many South Asian families, reproductive health, pelvic pain, sexual dysfunction, and even periods are still discussed through embarrassment—if they are discussed at all. Girls are taught to endure. Women are taught not to make other people uncomfortable. Patients are taught that questioning a doctor is disrespectful.

The doctor speaks. We nod. The doctor dismisses us. We wonder whether we explained it badly. The doctor becomes irritated. We apologize. The doctor says it is normal. We go home and continue hurting.

A Doctor Is Not a God

Doctors possess knowledge most patients do not have. Their education, clinical experience, and evidence-based medicine matter.

But expertise is not infallibility.

A medical degree does not transform an opinion into divine law. A doctor can be skilled and still miss something. They may be working with incomplete evidence. They can be tired, rushed, biased, overly certain, or simply wrong.

Refusing to treat a doctor like a god does not mean rejecting science. It means refusing to surrender your place in decisions about your own body.

A good doctor should be able to explain:

• What diagnosis they suspect.
• What other possibilities they considered.
• Which dangerous causes have been ruled out.
• What has not yet been ruled out.
• Why they recommend a particular test or treatment.
• What the important risks and benefits are.
• What reasonable alternatives exist.
• What may happen if you wait or refuse.

“I do not know” is an honest medical answer.

“You must be imagining it because I do not know” is not.

A Second Opinion Is Not Betrayal

You do not owe loyalty to a diagnosis.

A second opinion may confirm the first doctor’s recommendation, and that confirmation can be valuable. It may also clarify the diagnosis, reveal another treatment option, or identify something that was missed.

Systematic reviews show that second opinions often agree with the first opinion, but a meaningful proportion produce changes in diagnosis or treatment. The numbers vary widely by specialty, setting, and patient group, so a second opinion is not proof that the first doctor was wrong. It is another independent examination of the evidence. Systematic review of patient-initiated second opinions

Consider seeking another opinion when:

• Your symptoms persist or worsen despite treatment.
• Your diagnosis remains uncertain.
• Your symptoms and test results do not seem to match.
• You are being offered major surgery or an irreversible procedure.
• The proposed treatment carries serious risks.
• You have a rare or complicated condition.
• Different specialists give contradictory explanations.
• Your concerns are repeatedly dismissed without a medical explanation.
• You do not understand why a treatment is being recommended.
• You no longer feel able to communicate safely with the doctor.

Neither the first nor the second doctor automatically owns the truth. If their recommendations differ, ask both to explain their reasoning.

A second opinion should give you more information—not simply another authority to obey.

Know What You Can Ask For

Exact patient rights vary by country, province or state, healthcare setting, legal capacity, and whether the situation is an emergency. They are not absolute or identical everywhere.

But patients are not powerless.

You Can Ask Questions

You can ask:

• “What else could cause these symptoms?”
• “If this test is normal, what happens next?”
• “What would make you reconsider this diagnosis?”
• “Why are you recommending this treatment?”
• “What are the alternatives?”
• “What are the risks of waiting?”
• “Can you refer me to someone with more experience in this condition?”

You are entitled to an explanation in language you can understand. You are not required to nod simply because a medical word sounds impressive.

Informed Consent and Refusal

A capable adult generally has the right to receive information about a proposed treatment and decide whether to accept it. Emergencies, incapacity, substitute decision-making, and some public-health laws can create exceptions.

Ontario’s Health Care Consent Act says treatment consent must relate to the treatment, be informed and voluntary, and not be obtained through fraud or misrepresentation. It also recognizes withdrawal of consent. Ontario Health Care Consent Act

US federal hospital rules recognize a patient’s right to participate in care decisions and request or refuse treatment, although that does not create a right to demand medically inappropriate tests or treatments. US Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services guidance

India’s Charter of Patients’ Rights and Responsibilities includes informed consent for specified tests and treatments, access to records, and the ability to seek a second opinion. Implementation can depend on the state and healthcare setting. India’s Charter of Patients’ Rights

Bangladesh’s BMDC professional code emphasizes competent care, clear communication, record-keeping, confidentiality, and patient autonomy, although the precise legal mechanism for enforcing each protection may depend on the situation. BMDC ethical code

You can say:

• “I understand your recommendation, but I need more information.”
• “I would like time to consider this.”
• “I want another opinion before agreeing to this non-emergency procedure.”
• “I do not consent to this examination.”
• “Please stop.”

Refusing treatment can carry risks. A responsible doctor should explain those risks without threatening, humiliating, or coercing you.

Medical Records

Ask for consultation notes, test results, imaging reports, medication lists, referrals, and discharge summaries. You will need them for a meaningful second opinion.

In the United States, HIPAA generally gives patients access to a broad range of health information, with limited exceptions. It is more accurate to say patients have a right to access their records than to say they own the original file. US Department of Health and Human Services guidance

Rules differ elsewhere, but you can still ask how to obtain copies and whether a fee applies.

Chaperones and Support People

You can request a trained chaperone during an intimate examination. Depending on facility rules and privacy considerations, you may also ask whether a trusted person can accompany you.

The American Medical Association’s ethical guidance says doctors should honour a patient’s request for a chaperone. India’s patient charter calls for another woman to be present when a male practitioner physically examines a female patient. AMA guidance on medical chaperones

Complaints and Accountability

If a doctor behaves abusively, discriminates, acts negligently, or seriously violates professional ethics, ask about the hospital’s patient-relations or grievance process. You may also be able to complain to the professional regulator responsible for licensing doctors in your jurisdiction.

A complaint does not guarantee justice.

But a white coat should not place anyone beyond accountability.

Refusing to Be Silenced

It took me nearly thirty years to find relief for a problem that became manageable once it was properly understood. I cannot get those years back. I cannot return to my six-year-old self and give her the vocabulary she did not have. I cannot sit beside her in every doctor’s office and tell the adults in the room:

“She is not lying. You simply have not found the answer yet.”

But I can say it now—for her, for myself, and for the next girl who is taught to doubt her body before she is allowed to question a doctor.

Your pain can be real even when its cause has not yet been found. A normal test does not prove that you imagined your symptoms. A doctor’s uncertainty is not evidence of your dishonesty.

Ask questions. Request explanations. Keep your records. Bring support when you can. Seek another qualified opinion when you need one. And refuse to confuse professional expertise with godlike authority.

Medicine should be a partnership between a doctor’s knowledge and a patient’s knowledge of their own lived experience.

Not worship. Not obedience. Not silence.

আমার বয়স ছয় কি সাত, তখন ব্যথাটা শুরু হয়েছিল। পিঠ থেকে পায়ের দিকে ছড়িয়ে পড়া তীব্র, একটানা একটা ব্যথা। স্বাভাবিকভাবে ছোটাছুটি করা বা বাচ্চাদের মতো জীবন কাটানোই কঠিন হয়ে গিয়েছিল। রাতগুলো ছিল ভয়াবহ। কিন্তু ছয় বছর বয়সে নিজের কষ্ট বোঝানোর মতো ভাষা আমার ছিল না। Radiating pain কাকে বলে, আমি জানতাম না। আমি শুধু জানতাম, আমার ব্যথা করছে।

এরপর শুরু হলো বছরের পর বছর এক ডাক্তারের কাছ থেকে আরেক ডাক্তারের কাছে ঘোরা। Neurology, orthopedics, gynecology আর general medicine মিলিয়ে অন্তত দশজন specialist দেখেছি। বিভিন্ন সময় symptoms কমানোর জন্য আমাকে corticosteroids-সহ বেশ কিছু শক্তিশালী medicine দেওয়া হয়েছিল। এর মধ্যে কিছু medicine হয়তো আমাকে সাহায্য করার যুক্তিসংগত চেষ্টা ছিল। সমস্যা সেটা না। সমস্যা হলো, ব্যথা বারবার ফিরে আসছিল, কেন হচ্ছে কেউ বলতে পারছিল না, আর একসময় আমার ব্যথা না কমাটাই যেন আমার বিরুদ্ধে প্রমাণ হয়ে দাঁড়াল।

একজন-দুজন না, বেশ কয়েকজন ডাক্তার বলেছিলেন আমি অভিনয় করছি। আমার মা-বাবার প্রজন্মে ডাক্তার যা বলেন, সেটাই শেষ কথা। তাই একের পর এক ডাক্তার যখন কোনো explanation খুঁজে পেলেন না, আমার মা-বাবার দুশ্চিন্তা বাড়তে লাগল। একসময় তাঁরাও আমার সামনেই প্রশ্ন করতে শুরু করলেন—আমি কি সত্যিই মিথ্যা বলছি?

একবার ভাবুন তো, আপনি একটা ব্যথায় কষ্ট পাওয়া শিশু, আর ধীরে ধীরে বুঝতে পারছেন—যেসব বড় মানুষের আপনাকে রক্ষা করার কথা, তাঁরাই এখন আলোচনা করছেন আপনার ব্যথাটা আদৌ সত্যি কি না।

শেষ পর্যন্ত ৩৬ বছর বয়সে—প্রায় তিন দশক পর—আমি আমার sciatic pain-এর একটা explanation পেলাম। সঙ্গে এমন কয়েকটি সাধারণ movement adjustment শিখলাম, যেগুলো আমার জীবনযাত্রাই বদলে দিল।

বিশ্বাস করতে পারেন? আমাকে তিরিশ বছর অপেক্ষা করতে হয়েছে। Sciatica-এর মতো পরিচিত একটা problem বুঝতে পুরো তিরিশটা fucking বছর।

একজন ডাক্তারও যদি সত্যি করে আমার কথা শুনতেন—আমার সঙ্গে কথা বলতেন, আমাকে পুরোটা বোঝানোর সুযোগ দিতেন—তাহলে হয়তো জীবনের তিরিশটা বছর pain নিয়ে কাটাতে হতো না। রাতের পর রাত কাঁদতে কাঁদতে জেগে থাকতে হতো না। দিনের পর দিন এমন pain-এ নষ্ট হতো না, যা আমি যা-ই করি, কোনোভাবেই যেত না। আরাম করে বসতে পারতাম না। শুতে পারতাম না। কখনো কখনো এমন একটা position-ও খুঁজে পেতাম না, যেখানে নিজের শরীরের ভেতরে থাকাটা সহনীয় মনে হয়।

তিরিশ বছর পর শেষ পর্যন্ত একজন ডাক্তার আমার কথা শুনলেন। Pain নিয়ে আমাকে প্রশ্ন করলেন এবং আমি কথা শেষ করার আগেই নিজের মতো conclusion বানিয়ে না নিয়ে, আমাকে আরও বলতে উৎসাহ দিলেন। কেউ যখন শেষ পর্যন্ত পুরো গল্পটা শুনলেন, তখন খুব দ্রুতই sciatica চিনতে পারলেন এবং এমন কিছু change করতে সাহায্য করলেন, যেগুলো আমার জীবনটাই সহজ করে দিল।

তাই না, আমি বলছি না যে সব ডাক্তার খারাপ। বরং আমি প্রায় উল্টো কথাটাই বলছি। Medicine-এর বাইরের কেউ না—শেষ পর্যন্ত একজন ডাক্তারই আমাকে correctly diagnose করলেন এবং আমার জীবনটা ভালো করলেন। আর ঠিক সেই কারণেই আগের তিরিশটা বছর আমাকে এত রাগিয়ে দেয়। Medicine আমাকে সাহায্য করতে পারত। শুধু সেই medicine ব্যবহার করার আগে আমার কথা মন দিয়ে শোনার মতো একজন ডাক্তার খুঁজে পেতে তিরিশ বছর লেগেছে।

Listening কোনো optional kindness না, যা সময় বেশি থাকলে একজন ডাক্তার patient-কে দেবেন। Listening diagnosis-এর একটা active অংশ। প্রশ্ন করাও তার অংশ। Patient-কে কথা বলতে উৎসাহ দেওয়াও তার অংশ—সে কথা শেষ করার আগেই তাকে আগে থেকে বানানো কোনো conclusion-এর মধ্যে ঢুকিয়ে দেওয়া নয়।

Taboo, judgment আর bias-এর কোনো জায়গা doctor’s office-এ থাকা উচিত নয়। বিশেষ করে যখন একজন মানুষকে মন দিয়ে শোনা হবে কি না, তার ওপর তার health—এমনকি জীবনের কয়েকটা দশকও—নির্ভর করতে পারে।

এটা যদি শুধু আমার গল্প হতো, তাহলে হয়তো মেনে নেওয়া একটু সহজ হতো।

কিন্তু এটা শুধু আমার গল্প নয়।

একজন নারীকে কতভাবে বলা যায় যে তিনি বাড়াবাড়ি করছেন?

একজন নারীর period-এর সময় অসহ্য ব্যথা হচ্ছে?

“এটা স্বাভাবিক। Period-এ একটু ব্যথা তো হবেই।”

Pelvic pain, painful sex বা penetration-এ সমস্যা হচ্ছে?

“Relax করুন। এত ভয় পাবেন না। আরেকটু চেষ্টা করুন।”

সব সময় ক্লান্ত লাগছে, সারা শরীরে ব্যথা, মাথা ঘোরে, migraine বা brain fog হচ্ছে?

“সম্ভবত stress।”

কারণ ছাড়া ওজন বদলাচ্ছে, period অনিয়মিত বা শরীরে অতিরিক্ত লোম হচ্ছে?

“আগে ওজন কমান।”

বুক ব্যথা করছে বা নিশ্বাস নিতে কষ্ট হচ্ছে?

“আপনার anxiety আছে?”

সন্তান জন্ম দেওয়ার পরও ব্যথায় কষ্ট পাচ্ছেন?

“বাচ্চা হয়েছে। কী আশা করেছিলেন?”

Disease বদলায়। কথাটা খুব একটা বদলায় না।

Endometriosis, adenomyosis, PCOS, fibroids, vulvodynia, vaginismus, migraine, fibromyalgia, ME/CFS, Long COVID, autoimmune illnesses, chronic musculoskeletal pain বা heart disease—এ ধরনের condition নিয়ে বেঁচে থাকা বহু নারী একই রকম একটা লড়াইয়ের কথা বলেছেন। Treatment পাওয়ার আগে তাঁদের প্রথমে প্রমাণ করতে হয় যে নিজের শরীরের ভেতরে কী হচ্ছে, সেটা বোঝার মতো বিশ্বাসযোগ্য মানুষ তাঁরা।

এর মানে এই না যে এই condition-গুলোর প্রত্যেক নারীই অবহেলার শিকার হন। প্রত্যেকটা delayed diagnosis-এর কারণ sexism—এমনও না। আর সব ডাক্তার নিষ্ঠুর, সেটাও বলছি না। আমি বলছি, ঘটনাটা এত বড় একটা pattern যে প্রতিটি ঘটনাকে আলাদা আলাদা “দুর্ভাগ্যজনক ভুল-বোঝাবুঝি” বলে আর পাশ কাটানো যায় না।

Research-এ দেখা গেছে, নারীর ব্যথাকে বাড়িয়ে বলা, আবেগ থেকে তৈরি, psychosomatic, অস্পষ্ট, কম বিশ্বাসযোগ্য, কম জরুরি বা কম গুরুতর হিসেবে দেখার প্রবণতা আছে—বিশেষ করে যখন ব্যথার কোনো দৃশ্যমান কারণ তখনও পাওয়া যায়নি। Musculoskeletal-pain care-এ gender bias নিয়ে international review

দুই দেশের emergency department নিয়ে করা একটি study-তে দেখা গেছে, ব্যথা নিয়ে আসা female patient-রা male patient-দের তুলনায় pain medication পাওয়ার সম্ভাবনা কম ছিল। Clinician-দের মধ্যেও নারীর ব্যথার কথা সন্দেহ করার প্রবণতা বেশি দেখা গেছে। Pain-management decision-এ sex bias নিয়ে study

এই bias-ও সবার ওপর সমানভাবে পড়ে না। Race, disability, body size, দারিদ্র্য, gender identity, communication difference এবং mental illness-এর history—সবকিছুই কার ব্যথা বিশ্বাসযোগ্য মনে হবে, তা প্রভাবিত করতে পারে। Research-এ women of colour-এর ব্যথা বিশেষভাবে কম করে দেখার প্রমাণও পাওয়া গেছে। Pain assessment-এ race ও gender bias নিয়ে study

কিছু নারী examination room-এ ঢোকার আগেই যেন বিশ্বাসযোগ্যতার পরীক্ষায় পিছিয়ে থাকেন।

এটা শুধু “মেয়েদের রোগ”-এর কথা নয়

Reproductive এবং gynecological care-এ সমস্যাটা বেশি চোখে পড়ে, কিন্তু সেখানেই শেষ হয় না। Endometriosis নিয়ে করা সাম্প্রতিক একটি systematic review-তে diagnosis পেতে এক বছরেরও কম সময় থেকে শুরু করে বারো বছর পর্যন্ত লাগার তথ্য পাওয়া গেছে। দেশ, population আর delay কীভাবে হিসাব করা হয়েছে, তার ওপর সময় বদলেছে। তাই একটিমাত্র নির্ভরযোগ্য global average নেই। কিন্তু বড় ধরনের diagnostic delay যে এখনো আছে, সেটা পরিষ্কার। Endometriosis diagnosis-এর সময় নিয়ে systematic review

PCOS থাকা নারীদের নিয়ে করা বড় একটি international study-তে এক-তৃতীয়াংশের বেশি নারী বলেছেন, diagnosis পেতে তাঁদের দুই বছরের বেশি সময় লেগেছে। প্রায় অর্ধেক নারী diagnosis পাওয়ার আগে অন্তত তিনজন healthcare professional দেখেছেন। শেষ পর্যন্ত diagnosis পাওয়ার সময় যে তথ্য পেয়েছেন, তা নিয়ে সন্তুষ্ট ছিলেন খুব কম মানুষ। PCOS diagnosis-এর অভিজ্ঞতা নিয়ে study

একই সমস্যা gynecology-এর বাইরেও আছে। Axial spondyloarthritis নিয়ে করা একটি systematic review-তে নারীদের diagnosis পেতে বেশি দেরি হওয়ার প্রমাণ পাওয়া গেছে। Condition-টি দীর্ঘদিন মূলত পুরুষদের মধ্যে যেভাবে দেখা যায়, সেই presentation দিয়েই বোঝার চেষ্টা করা হয়েছে। Axial-spondyloarthritis diagnosis-এ sex bias নিয়ে systematic review

Lupus diagnosis নিয়ে সাম্প্রতিক একটি review-তেও নারী হওয়াকে দীর্ঘ diagnostic delay-এর সঙ্গে সম্পর্কিত একটি factor হিসেবে পাওয়া গেছে। Delayed lupus diagnosis ও treatment নিয়ে systematic review

Migraine, fibromyalgia, ME/CFS এবং Long COVID থাকা patient-দেরও প্রমাণ করতে হয়েছে যে তাঁদের symptoms শারীরিক এবং সত্যি—শুধু anxiety, দুর্বলতা বা কল্পনা নয়। Long COVID, contested illnesses এবং medical gaslighting নিয়ে research

এমনকি heart disease-ও এর বাইরে না। কিছু healthcare setting-এ chest pain নিয়ে আসা নারীরা পুরুষদের তুলনায় cardiology referral কম পেয়েছেন। নারীর cardiovascular symptoms-কে anxiety ভেবে ভুল করা বা কম জরুরি মনে করার ঝুঁকিও থেকে গেছে। নারীর heart health নিয়ে American Heart Association report

তাই না, এটা শুধু period-এর কথা নয়। এটা বিশ্বাসযোগ্যতার কথা।

কাকে প্রথম কথাতেই বিশ্বাস করা হয়? কাকে ফাইল, ছবি, spreadsheet, symptom diary, সাক্ষী আর বছরের পর বছর কষ্টের প্রমাণ নিয়ে আসতে হয়—তারপর কেউ বলে, “আচ্ছা, এবার হয়তো investigate করা দরকার”? আর সেই জায়গায় পৌঁছানোর আগেই কতজন হাল ছেড়ে দেন?

“আমি জানি না” যখন “আপনার কিছুই হয়নি” হয়ে যায়

প্রতিটি medical mistake gaslighting নয়। ডাক্তাররাও মানুষ। অনেক condition-এর symptoms একে অন্যের সঙ্গে মিলে যায়, test-এর সীমাবদ্ধতা আছে এবং কিছু condition সত্যিই identify করা কঠিন। অসম্পূর্ণ evidence দেখে দুজন দক্ষ ডাক্তারও আলাদা conclusion-এ পৌঁছাতে পারেন। একজন ডাক্তার যদি বলেন, “আমি এখনো জানি না,” সেটা gaslighting নয়।

সমস্যা শুরু হয় যখন “আপনার ব্যথার কারণ আমি ব্যাখ্যা করতে পারছি না” বদলে হয়ে যায় “আপনার আসলে ব্যথাই নেই”; “Test normal এসেছে” বদলে হয় “সব আপনার কল্পনা”; আর “এটা কী, আমি জানি না” বদলে হয় “আপনি dramatic, anxious, attention-seeking বা মিথ্যাবাদী।”

Medical gaslighting শব্দটি সাধারণত এমন repeated dismissal বা distortion বোঝাতে ব্যবহার করা হয়, যেখানে একজন patient-এর symptoms আর নিজের শরীর নিয়ে তার অভিজ্ঞতাকে এমনভাবে অস্বীকার করা হয় যে তিনি নিজের perception বা judgment-কেই সন্দেহ করতে শুরু করেন। এর জন্য ইচ্ছাকৃতভাবে manipulate করার intent থাকতেই হবে কি না, তা নিয়ে researcher-দের মধ্যে debate আছে। Dismissal ইচ্ছাকৃত না হলেও যদি patient-কে confused, লজ্জিত এবং নিজের শরীরকে বিশ্বাস করতে অক্ষম করে তোলে, তখন কেউ কেউ একে medical invalidation বলেন। Medical gaslighting ও medical invalidation নিয়ে review

প্রতিটি ডাক্তার কী উদ্দেশ্যে কথাগুলো বলেছিলেন, আমি জানি না। কিন্তু কথাগুলো আমার সঙ্গে কী করেছে, সেটা জানি।

ওগুলো আমাকে নিজেকেই সন্দেহ করতে শিখিয়েছে।

এটা বারবার কেন হয়?

এটা কি culture-এর সমস্যা? অজ্ঞতা? Medical education-এর ব্যর্থতা? Sexism? নাকি এমন একটা healthcare system-এর সমস্যা, যেখানে পনেরো বছর ধরে থাকা সমস্যার সমাধান করতে একজন ডাক্তারকে পনেরো মিনিট দেওয়া হয়? নাকি অনিশ্চয়তা ডাক্তার আর patient—দুজনকেই ভয় পাইয়ে দেয় বলে “আমি জানি না” বলার চেয়ে “আপনার anxiety আছে” বলা বেশি আরামদায়ক?

সম্ভবত সবকিছুই কিছুটা দায়ী।

Clinical research-এর গুরুত্বপূর্ণ অনেক জায়গায় নারীদের দীর্ঘদিন বাদ দেওয়া হয়েছে বা প্রয়োজনের তুলনায় কম রাখা হয়েছে। যুক্তরাষ্ট্রের NIH Revitalization Act of 1993 অনুযায়ী যুক্তিসংগত exclusion-এর কারণ না থাকলে NIH-funded clinical research-এ নারী এবং racial ও ethnic minority group-কে অন্তর্ভুক্ত করতে হয়। এটা বড় ধরনের সংশোধন ছিল। কিন্তু পৃথিবীর সব clinical trial-এর ওপর এই আইন প্রযোজ্য নয়, আর কয়েক দশকের হারিয়ে যাওয়া knowledge-ও একদিনে ফিরে আসেনি। শুধু নারীকে study-তে রাখলেই হবে না; যথেষ্টসংখ্যক নারীকে অন্তর্ভুক্ত করে প্রয়োজন হলে sex অনুযায়ী result analyse ও report করতে হবে। NIH inclusion policy

তারপর আছে আমাদের culture। অনেক South Asian পরিবারে reproductive health, pelvic pain, sexual dysfunction, এমনকি period নিয়েও এখনো লজ্জা আর সংকোচ নিয়ে কথা বলা হয়—যদি আদৌ বলা হয়। মেয়েদের কষ্ট সহ্য করতে শেখানো হয়। নারীদের শেখানো হয়, নিজের কথা বলে অন্যকে অস্বস্তিতে ফেলা যাবে না। আর patient-দের শেখানো হয়, ডাক্তারকে প্রশ্ন করা বেয়াদবি।

ডাক্তার কথা বলেন। আমরা মাথা নাড়ি। ডাক্তার আমাদের কথা উড়িয়ে দেন। আমরা ভাবি, হয়তো আমিই ঠিকভাবে বোঝাতে পারিনি। ডাক্তার বিরক্ত হন। আমরা sorry বলি। ডাক্তার বলেন সব normal। আমরা বাসায় ফিরে আবার কষ্ট পেতে থাকি।

ডাক্তার ঈশ্বর নন

ডাক্তারদের এমন knowledge আছে, যা বেশির ভাগ patient-এর নেই। তাঁদের education, clinical experience এবং evidence-based medicine গুরুত্বপূর্ণ।

কিন্তু expertise মানে ভুল হওয়ার কোনো সম্ভাবনা নেই—এমন না।

Medical degree কোনো opinion-কে ঈশ্বরের আদেশ বানিয়ে দেয় না। একজন দক্ষ ডাক্তারও কিছু miss করতে পারেন। তিনি হয়তো incomplete evidence নিয়ে কাজ করছেন। তিনি ক্লান্ত, তাড়াহুড়োর মধ্যে, biased, নিজের conclusion নিয়ে অতিরিক্ত নিশ্চিত অথবা স্রেফ ভুল হতে পারেন।

ডাক্তারকে ঈশ্বরের মতো না দেখা মানে science অস্বীকার করা নয়। এর মানে নিজের শরীর নিয়ে decision নেওয়ার জায়গাটা পুরোপুরি ছেড়ে না দেওয়া।

একজন ভালো ডাক্তার ব্যাখ্যা করতে পারবেন:

• তিনি কোন diagnosis সন্দেহ করছেন।
• আর কী কী possibility ভেবেছেন।
• কোন dangerous cause বাদ দেওয়া হয়েছে।
• কোনটা এখনো বাদ দেওয়া হয়নি।
• কেন নির্দিষ্ট test বা treatment recommend করছেন।
• গুরুত্বপূর্ণ risk ও benefit কী।
• Reasonable alternative আছে কি না।
• আপনি অপেক্ষা করলে বা treatment refuse করলে কী হতে পারে।

“আমি জানি না” একটি সৎ medical answer।

“আমি জানি না, তাই নিশ্চয়ই সব আপনার কল্পনা”—এটা সৎ উত্তর নয়।

Second opinion নেওয়া বিশ্বাসঘাতকতা নয়

কোনো diagnosis-এর প্রতি আপনার ব্যক্তিগত loyalty থাকার দরকার নেই।

Second opinion প্রথম ডাক্তারের recommendation confirm করতে পারে, আর সেই confirmation-ও গুরুত্বপূর্ণ। আবার second opinion diagnosis আরও পরিষ্কার করতে পারে, অন্য treatment option দেখাতে পারে বা আগে miss হয়ে যাওয়া কিছু ধরতে পারে।

Systematic review-গুলোতে দেখা গেছে, second opinion অনেক সময় প্রথম opinion-এর সঙ্গে মিলে যায়। কিন্তু উল্লেখযোগ্যসংখ্যক ক্ষেত্রে diagnosis বা treatment বদলেও যায়। Specialty, healthcare setting আর patient group অনুযায়ী এই হার অনেক বদলায়। তাই second opinion নেওয়া মানে প্রথম ডাক্তার ভুল ছিলেন—এমন প্রমাণ নয়। এটা evidence-কে আরেকজন qualified professional দিয়ে স্বাধীনভাবে দেখানো। Patient-initiated second opinion নিয়ে systematic review

আরেকটি opinion নেওয়ার কথা ভাবতে পারেন যদি:

• Treatment-এর পরও symptoms থেকে যায় বা আরও খারাপ হয়।
• Diagnosis এখনো নিশ্চিত না হয়।
• Symptoms আর test result-এর মধ্যে মিল না থাকে।
• Major surgery বা irreversible procedure-এর কথা বলা হয়।
• Proposed treatment-এ serious risk থাকে।
• আপনার rare বা complicated condition থাকে।
• আলাদা specialist পরস্পরবিরোধী explanation দেন।
• Medical explanation না দিয়েই আপনার concern বারবার উড়িয়ে দেওয়া হয়।
• কেন treatment recommend করা হচ্ছে, আপনি বুঝতে না পারেন।
• ডাক্তারের সঙ্গে আর নিরাপদভাবে কথা বলা সম্ভব মনে না হয়।

প্রথম বা দ্বিতীয়—কোনো ডাক্তারই automatically পুরো সত্যের মালিক নন। তাঁদের recommendation আলাদা হলে দুজনকেই reasoning ব্যাখ্যা করতে বলুন।

Second opinion-এর উদ্দেশ্য আপনাকে আরও information দেওয়া—শুধু মেনে চলার জন্য আরেকজন authority তৈরি করা নয়।

আপনি কী কী চাইতে পারেন, সেটা জানুন

Patient rights দেশ, province বা state, healthcare setting, decision নেওয়ার legal capacity এবং situation emergency কি না—এসবের ওপর বদলায়। সব জায়গায় rights এক রকম বা absolute নয়।

কিন্তু patient-ও ক্ষমতাহীন নন।

আপনি প্রশ্ন করতে পারেন

আপনি জিজ্ঞেস করতে পারেন:

• “এই symptoms-এর আর কী কারণ হতে পারে?”
• “এই test normal হলে এরপর কী করব?”
• “কী হলে আপনি এই diagnosis আবার বিবেচনা করবেন?”
• “এই treatment কেন recommend করছেন?”
• “এর alternative কী?”
• “অপেক্ষা করলে কী risk আছে?”
• “এই condition নিয়ে বেশি experience আছে, এমন কারও কাছে refer করতে পারবেন?”

আপনি বুঝতে পারেন—এমন ভাষায় explanation পাওয়ার অধিকার আপনার আছে। কোনো medical শব্দ খুব impressive শোনাচ্ছে বলেই আপনাকে না বুঝে মাথা নাড়তে হবে না।

Informed Consent এবং Refusal

সিদ্ধান্ত নেওয়ার capacity থাকা একজন প্রাপ্তবয়স্ক মানুষ সাধারণত proposed treatment সম্পর্কে information পাওয়ার পর সেটা গ্রহণ বা refuse করার decision নিতে পারেন। Emergency, incapacity, substitute decision-making এবং কিছু public-health law-এর ক্ষেত্রে exception থাকতে পারে।

Ontario-এর Health Care Consent Act অনুযায়ী consent নির্দিষ্ট treatment-এর জন্য হতে হবে, informed ও voluntary হতে হবে এবং fraud বা misrepresentation-এর মাধ্যমে নেওয়া যাবে না। Consent পরে withdraw-ও করা যায়। Ontario Health Care Consent Act

US federal hospital rules অনুযায়ী patient নিজের care decision-এ অংশ নিতে এবং treatment request বা refuse করতে পারেন। তবে এর মানে এই নয় যে patient medically inappropriate test বা treatment দিতে ডাক্তারকে বাধ্য করতে পারেন। US Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services guidance

India-এর Charter of Patients’ Rights and Responsibilities-এ নির্দিষ্ট test ও treatment-এর আগে informed consent, medical records পাওয়ার সুযোগ এবং second opinion নেওয়ার কথা আছে। তবে state এবং healthcare setting অনুযায়ী implementation বদলাতে পারে। India’s Charter of Patients’ Rights

Bangladesh-এর BMDC professional code-এ competent care, clear communication, record-keeping, confidentiality এবং patient autonomy-এর ওপর গুরুত্ব দেওয়া হয়েছে। তবে প্রতিটি protection কীভাবে আইনগতভাবে enforce করা যাবে, তা situation অনুযায়ী বদলাতে পারে। BMDC ethical code

আপনি বলতে পারেন:

• “আপনার recommendation বুঝতে পারছি, কিন্তু আমার আরও information দরকার।”
• “আমি একটু সময় নিয়ে ভাবতে চাই।”
• “এই non-emergency procedure-এ রাজি হওয়ার আগে আরেকটি opinion চাই।”
• “আমি এই examination-এ consent দিচ্ছি না।”
• “Please stop.”

Treatment refuse করার risk থাকতে পারে। একজন দায়িত্বশীল ডাক্তার আপনাকে ভয় না দেখিয়ে, অপমান না করে এবং চাপ না দিয়ে সেই risk বুঝিয়ে বলবেন।

Medical Records

Consultation note, test result, imaging report, medication list, referral এবং discharge summary চাইতে পারেন। অর্থপূর্ণ second opinion নিতে এগুলো দরকার হবে।

যুক্তরাষ্ট্রে HIPAA সাধারণত কিছু সীমিত exception ছাড়া patient-কে নিজের অনেক ধরনের health information access করার অধিকার দেয়। Original medical file-এর মালিক patient—এটা বলার চেয়ে patient-এর record access করার অধিকার আছে বলা বেশি সঠিক। Medical records নিয়ে HHS guidance

অন্য জায়গায় নিয়ম আলাদা হতে পারে। তবে কীভাবে copy পাওয়া যাবে এবং কোনো fee লাগবে কি না, সেটা জিজ্ঞেস করতে পারেন।

Chaperone এবং Support Person

Intimate examination-এর সময় trained chaperone চাইতে পারেন। Facility-এর policy আর privacy rule অনুযায়ী trusted কাউকে সঙ্গে রাখা যাবে কি না, সেটাও জিজ্ঞেস করতে পারেন।

American Medical Association-এর ethical guidance অনুযায়ী patient chaperone চাইলে ডাক্তারদের সেই request সম্মান করা উচিত। India-এর patient charter-এ male practitioner কোনো female patient-কে physically examine করলে আরেকজন নারী উপস্থিত থাকার কথা বলা আছে। Medical chaperone নিয়ে AMA guidance

Complaint এবং Accountability

কোনো ডাক্তার abusive আচরণ করলে, discrimination করলে, negligent হলে বা serious professional ethics ভাঙলে hospital-এর patient-relations বা grievance process সম্পর্কে জিজ্ঞেস করুন। আপনার এলাকার doctor-দের license ও conduct দেখাশোনা করা professional regulator-এর কাছেও complaint করার সুযোগ থাকতে পারে।

Complaint করলেই justice পাওয়া যাবে, এমন guarantee নেই।

কিন্তু white coat কাউকে accountability-এর বাইরে রাখার কথা নয়।

চুপ থাকতে অস্বীকার করা

যে সমস্যাটি একবার ঠিকভাবে বোঝার পর manageable হয়ে গেল, সেটার relief খুঁজে পেতে আমার প্রায় তিরিশ বছর লেগেছে। সেই বছরগুলো আমি আর ফিরে পাব না। আমি আমার ছয় বছরের ছোট্ট রূপটার কাছে ফিরে গিয়ে তাকে হারিয়ে যাওয়া শব্দগুলো দিতে পারব না। প্রতিটি doctor’s office-এ তার পাশে বসে ঘরের বড় মানুষগুলোকে বলতে পারব না:

“ও মিথ্যা বলছে না। আপনারা শুধু এখনো উত্তরটা খুঁজে পাননি।”

কিন্তু এখন আমি কথাটা বলতে পারি—সেই ছোট্ট মেয়েটার জন্য, নিজের জন্য এবং পরের সেই মেয়েটার জন্য, যাকে ডাক্তারকে প্রশ্ন করার অনুমতি দেওয়ার আগেই নিজের শরীরকে সন্দেহ করতে শেখানো হবে।

কারণ এখনো খুঁজে পাওয়া যায়নি বলেই আপনার pain মিথ্যা হয়ে যায় না। Normal test প্রমাণ করে না যে আপনি symptoms কল্পনা করেছেন। একজন ডাক্তারের uncertainty আপনার অসততার প্রমাণ নয়।

প্রশ্ন করুন। Explanation চান। নিজের records রাখুন। সম্ভব হলে সঙ্গে কাউকে নিন। প্রয়োজন হলে আরেকজন qualified professional-এর opinion নিন। আর professional expertise-কে ঈশ্বরের মতো authority ভাবতে অস্বীকার করুন।

Medicine হওয়া উচিত একজন ডাক্তারের knowledge এবং নিজের জীবন্ত অভিজ্ঞতা সম্পর্কে একজন patient-এর knowledge-এর partnership।

পূজা নয়। অন্ধ আনুগত্য নয়। নীরবতা নয়।

The funny part is that the basic idea is not particularly complicated. The complicated part begins when feelings, relationships, age, authority, embarrassment, family expectations, and our lifelong conditioning get involved. Then the boundary between yes, no, and I did not feel like I was allowed to say no can become terribly blurry.

So I wanted to break consent down—not only for my son, but for myself.

Why?

Because I do not want to teach him only how to say no. I want him to understand when another person has said no, even if they did not use that exact word. I want him to know how to ask, how to listen, and how to stop. I also want him to understand that someone agreeing once does not mean they have agreed forever.

And, if I am completely honest, I am still learning some of this myself.

There is a wonderful animated video on YouTube called Tea Consent, created by Blue Seat Studios. I love how it uses little stick figures and cups of tea to spoon-feed us a concept that adults have somehow managed to make confusing.

The video asks us to imagine offering someone tea.

“Would you like a cup of tea?”

They reply:

“Oh my gosh, yes! I would love a cup of tea!”

You make the tea. They drink it. Everyone is happy.

That is the easy version of consent.

The same principle applies to physical affection. You ask:

“Can I give you a hug?” Or: “Would you like a hug?”

The person says yes and willingly moves toward you. That is consent.

Consent can be communicated through words or clear actions. Not everyone will express it with the same amount of excitement—especially people who communicate differently—but it still needs to be freely and clearly given. If you are uncertain, you ask. You do not interpret silence, stillness, nervous laughter, freezing, or a lack of resistance as permission.

But not every situation is that obvious.

Suppose someone says yes to tea, but changes their mind while you are making it. You do not force them to drink it because you have already gone through the trouble.

Suppose they enjoyed tea with you yesterday. That does not mean you can pour it into their mouth today without asking.

Suppose they say:

“I’m not sure.”

You do not keep asking until they become too exhausted or uncomfortable to continue saying no.

Suppose they say yes because they are frightened of disappointing you. That is not freely given consent. It is compliance under pressure.

And if someone is unconscious or asleep, you obviously do not try to force tea into their mouth. They cannot answer. Their inability to say no does not magically become a yes.

Why, then, does that distinction suddenly become confusing when we are talking about kissing, hugging, touching, or sex?

An unconscious or sleeping person cannot consent to sexual activity. With ordinary affection, silence or unresponsiveness should never be treated as permission either. And if a child or adult is so overwhelmed or shut down that they cannot communicate a clear choice—even through speech, gestures, AAC, or another established method—then optional physical contact should wait.

Necessary caregiving is different. Sometimes a child must be lifted away from danger, helped with hygiene, examined by a doctor, or given essential care. But necessity does not erase dignity. We can explain what is happening, ask whenever possible, offer choices, pay attention to distress, and use the least intrusive approach available.

Consent is not simply the absence of the word no.

It is permission that is freely given, informed, specific, and reversible.

It means:

Yes, I want this.

Yes, I understand what I am agreeing to.

Yes, I am choosing without pressure.

And yes, I can change my mind.

That last part is important.

Consent is not a contract someone signs once and can never escape. A yes can become a no halfway through. A person can enjoy one kind of touch and refuse another. They can hug one person and not someone else. They can want affection today and need space tomorrow.

None of that makes them rude, confusing, manipulative, or difficult.

It makes them a person with ownership over their own body.

I prepared these visual aids to help me understand these distinctions and teach them to my son. Because children need more than the instruction to “be good.” They need usable words. They need examples. They need to know how consent feels from both sides—not only how to protect their own boundaries, but how to recognize and respect somebody else’s.

And perhaps some of us adults need those lessons too.

More to watch and read

• Tea Consent — Blue Seat Studios
• RAINN: Consent 101
• NSPCC: Talk PANTS and help keep children safe

কারণ, একদম সোজা পরিস্থিতিতে Consent বোঝা সহজ হলেও বাস্তব জীবনে এর সঙ্গে সম্পর্ক, আবেগ, বয়স, ক্ষমতা, পারিবারিক চাপ আর “লোকে কী ভাববে”—এসব ঢুকে পড়ে। তখন হ্যাঁ, না আর আমি না বলতে পারিনি—এই তিনটির মাঝের পার্থক্যটা বেশ ঘোলাটে হয়ে যায়।

তাই আমি Consent-এর বিষয়টা প্রথমে নিজের বোঝার জন্য, তারপর আমার ছেলেকে বোঝানোর জন্য একটু একটু করে ভেঙে দেখার চেষ্টা করেছি।

কারণ আমি চাই না আমার ছেলে শুধু নিজের জন্য “না” বলতে শিখুক। আমি চাই, অন্য কেউ “না” বললে সে যেন সেটা শুনতে শেখে। কেউ মুখে “না” না বললেও যদি সরে যায়, স্থির হয়ে যায় বা অস্বস্তি দেখায়, সে যেন থেমে জিজ্ঞেস করতে শেখে। আমি চাই সে জানুক কীভাবে অনুমতি চাইতে হয়, কীভাবে উত্তর শুনতে হয় এবং কখন থেমে যেতে হয়।

আর সত্যি বলতে, ওকে শেখাতে গিয়ে আমিও শিখছি।

ইউটিউবে Blue Seat Studios-এর বানানো Tea Consent নামে একটি চমৎকার ভিডিও আছে। সেখানে স্টিক ফিগার আর এক কাপ চায়ের উদাহরণ দিয়ে Consent-এর মূল ধারণাটি খুব সহজভাবে দেখানো হয়েছে।

ভাবুন, আপনি কাউকে জিজ্ঞেস করলেন:

“এক কাপ চা খাবেন?”

তিনি বললেন:

“হ্যাঁ, অবশ্যই! এক কাপ চা হলে তো দারুণ হয়!”

আপনি চা বানিয়ে দিলেন। তিনি চা খেলেন। সবাই খুশি।

এটা Consent-এর সবচেয়ে সহজ উদাহরণ।

জড়িয়ে ধরা বা চুমু দেওয়ার ক্ষেত্রেও মূল নিয়মটা একই। আপনি জিজ্ঞেস করলেন:

“তোমাকে কি জড়িয়ে ধরতে পারি?”

অথবা:

“একটা Hug করবে?”

সে বলল, “হ্যাঁ,” এবং নিজের ইচ্ছায় এগিয়ে এলো।

এটাই Consent।

তবে Consent মানেই কাউকে আনন্দে লাফাতে হবে—এমন নয়। সবাই একইভাবে আগ্রহ প্রকাশ করে না। কেউ হাসতে হাসতে “হ্যাঁ” বলে, কেউ শান্তভাবে মাথা নাড়ে, কেউ হাত বাড়ায়, আবার কেউ AAC বা অন্য কোনো পরিচিত উপায়ে নিজের উত্তর জানায়।

উত্তরটা নাটকীয় হতে হবে না। কিন্তু পরিষ্কার, নিজের ইচ্ছায় দেওয়া এবং চাপমুক্ত হতে হবে।

আপনি যদি নিশ্চিত না হন, তাহলে ধরে নেবেন না। আবার জিজ্ঞেস করুন।

১. পরিষ্কারভাবে “হ্যাঁ”

চায়ের ক্ষেত্রে

আপনি জিজ্ঞেস করলেন:

“এক কাপ চা খাবেন?”

উত্তর এলো:

“হ্যাঁ, অবশ্যই!”

আপনি চা বানালেন। উনি খেলেন। সব ঠিক আছে।

জড়িয়ে ধরা বা চুমুর ক্ষেত্রে

আপনি জিজ্ঞেস করলেন:

“তোমাকে কি জড়িয়ে ধরতে পারি?”

সে পরিষ্কারভাবে “হ্যাঁ” বলল অথবা এমনভাবে এগিয়ে এলো, যেটা আপনাদের পরিচিত যোগাযোগের মধ্যে স্পষ্টভাবে “হ্যাঁ” বোঝায়।

মূল কথা

Consent কথা দিয়ে বা আচরণের মাধ্যমে জানানো যেতে পারে। কিন্তু সেটি পরিষ্কার এবং নিজের ইচ্ছায় দেওয়া হতে হবে।

শুধু “না” না বলাকে “হ্যাঁ” ধরে নেওয়া যাবে না।

২. দ্বিধা, অস্বস্তি বা অনিশ্চিত উত্তর

চায়ের ক্ষেত্রে

আপনি চায়ের কথা জিজ্ঞেস করতেই তিনি বললেন:

“উমম…ঠিক বুঝতে পারছি না।”

তখন আপনি চা বানিয়ে তাঁর সামনে দাঁড়িয়ে বলবেন না:

“এত কষ্ট করে বানিয়েছি। এখন খেতেই হবে!”

বরং আপনি বলতে পারেন:

“ঠিক আছে। পরে চাইলে বলবেন।”

জড়িয়ে ধরা বা চুমুর ক্ষেত্রে

আপনি জড়িয়ে ধরার জন্য হাত বাড়ালেন, কিন্তু সে পিছিয়ে গেল, চোখ সরিয়ে নিল, স্থির হয়ে গেল বা বলল:

“উমম…জানি না।”

তখন একধাপ পিছিয়ে আসুন।

বলতে পারেন:

“ঠিক আছে। Hug করতে হবে না।”

অথবা:

“তুমি চাইলে পরে আমাকে বলতে পারো।”

মূল কথা

“হয়তো”, “জানি না”, চুপ হয়ে যাওয়া, জমে যাওয়া বা অস্বস্তিতে হাসা—এগুলোর কোনোটিই এগিয়ে যাওয়ার Green Light নয়।

সন্দেহ থাকলে থামুন এবং পরিষ্কার করে জিজ্ঞেস করুন।

৩. স্পষ্ট “না”

চায়ের ক্ষেত্রে

আপনি জিজ্ঞেস করলেন:

“এক কাপ চা খাবেন?”

তিনি বললেন:

“না, ধন্যবাদ।”

ব্যস। আপনি চা বানালেন না। রাগ করলেন না। তাঁকে অকৃতজ্ঞ বললেন না। তাঁর মুখে জোর করে চা ঢেলে দিলেন না।

জড়িয়ে ধরা বা চুমুর ক্ষেত্রে

কেউ বলল:

“না, থাক।”

অথবা:

“আমি এখন Hug করতে চাই না।”

তখনও ব্যাপারটা একই। আপনি থামবেন। তাকে অভদ্র, পরপর, আদর বোঝে না বা “বেশি ভাব ধরে” বলবেন না।

মূল কথা

“না” একটি সম্পূর্ণ উত্তর।

সেটা এক কাপ Earl Grey চায়ের ব্যাপারেই হোক কিংবা গালে একটি চুমুর ব্যাপারে।

৪. প্রথমে “হ্যাঁ” বলেও পরে মত বদলানো

চায়ের ক্ষেত্রে

প্রথমে তিনি চা খেতে চেয়েছিলেন। কিন্তু কেটলি বসানোর পর বললেন:

“আসলে, এখন আর চা খেতে ইচ্ছে করছে না।”

আপনি হয়তো কষ্ট করে চা বানিয়েছেন। তারপরও তাঁকে সেই চা খেতেই হবে—এমন কোনো কথা নেই।

জড়িয়ে ধরা বা চুমুর ক্ষেত্রে

কেউ প্রথমে জড়িয়ে ধরতে রাজি হয়েছিল। কিন্তু আপনি কাছে যেতেই সে পিছিয়ে গিয়ে বলল:

“আসলে, আমি আর চাই না।”

অথবা Hug শুরু হওয়ার পর সে বলল:

“থামো।”

তখন থামতে হবে। সঙ্গে সঙ্গে।

মূল কথা

Consent যেকোনো সময় ফিরিয়ে নেওয়া যায়—স্পর্শের আগে বা স্পর্শ চলার সময়ও।

একবার “হ্যাঁ” বলা মানে শেষ পর্যন্ত “হ্যাঁ” বলতেই হবে না।

৫. চাপ, ভয় বা অপরাধবোধ থেকে বলা “হ্যাঁ”

ধরুন, কেউ প্রথমে চা খেতে চাইল না। আপনি বলতে থাকলেন:

“আমার হাতের চা তুমি খাবে না?”

“তোমার জন্য এত কষ্ট করে বানালাম!”

“একটু খেলেই কী হয়?”

শেষ পর্যন্ত সে বিরক্ত, লজ্জিত বা অপরাধী বোধ করে বলল:

“আচ্ছা, ঠিক আছে।”

এটা কি নিজের ইচ্ছায় চা খাওয়া?

না।

জড়িয়ে ধরা, চুমু বা অন্য কোনো স্পর্শের ক্ষেত্রেও একই কথা।

“আমি তোমার খালা, আমাকে Hug দেবে না?”

“দাদি কষ্ট পাবে!”

“এত ভাব দেখাচ্ছ কেন?”

“আমি তোমাকে এত ভালোবাসি!”

এই কথাগুলো শুনে একটি শিশু “হ্যাঁ” বললেও, সেই “হ্যাঁ” নিজের ইচ্ছা থেকে না-ও আসতে পারে। সে হয়তো শুধু বড়দের রাগ, মন খারাপ বা অপমান এড়াতে রাজি হয়েছে।

মূল কথা

ভয়, চাপ, বারবার অনুরোধ, লজ্জা বা অপরাধবোধ দিয়ে আদায় করা “হ্যাঁ” আসল Consent নয়।

Consent মানে কাউকে হার মেনে “ঠিক আছে” বলানো নয়।

৬. ঘুমন্ত, অচেতন বা এই মুহূর্তে উত্তর দিতে অক্ষম

চায়ের ক্ষেত্রে

কেউ ঘুমিয়ে আছে বা অচেতন হয়ে পড়ে আছে।

আপনি নিশ্চয়ই ভাববেন না:

“ও তো না বলেনি। তার মানে চা খাবে।”

তারপর তার মুখে চা ঢেলে দেবেন না।

সে উত্তর দিতে পারছে না। তার চুপ করে থাকা কোনো উত্তরই নয়।

স্পর্শের ক্ষেত্রে

ঘুমন্ত বা অচেতন কেউ যৌন স্পর্শে Consent দিতে পারে না—এখানে কোনো অস্পষ্টতা নেই।

সাধারণ Hug, চুমু বা অন্য কোনো ঐচ্ছিক স্পর্শের ক্ষেত্রেও কারও ঘুম, নীরবতা বা সাড়া না দেওয়াকে অনুমতি হিসেবে ব্যবহার করা যায় না।

কেউ যদি প্রচণ্ড Overwhelmed বা Shutdown অবস্থায় থাকে, তার মানে এই নয় যে সে কিছুই বোঝে না বা কোনোভাবেই উত্তর দিতে পারে না। অনেক Neurodivergent মানুষ কথা বলতে না পারলেও ইশারা, AAC, মাথা নাড়া, হাত সরানো বা পরিচিত অন্য কোনো উপায়ে নিজের পছন্দ জানাতে পারে।

তাই তার পরিচিত যোগাযোগের পদ্ধতিতে জিজ্ঞেস করুন।

কিন্তু যদি কোনো পরিষ্কার উত্তর পাওয়া না যায়, তাহলে ঐচ্ছিক স্পর্শের জন্য অপেক্ষা করুন।

মূল কথা

চুপ থাকা মানে “হ্যাঁ” নয়।

কথা না বলা মানে “যা খুশি করো” নয়।

উত্তর দিতে না পারা মানে অন্য কেউ উত্তরটা নিজের সুবিধামতো বানিয়ে নিতে পারে না।

কিন্তু প্রয়োজনীয় যত্নের সময় কী হবে?

এই জায়গায় একটি পার্থক্য বোঝা জরুরি।

কখনো কখনো একটি শিশুকে বিপদ থেকে সরিয়ে আনতে কোলে তুলতে হয়। ডায়াপার বদলাতে হয়, গোসল করাতে হয়, ওষুধ দিতে হয় বা ডাক্তারের কাছে পরীক্ষা করাতে হয়। জরুরি নিরাপত্তা ও প্রয়োজনীয় যত্ন সব সময় ঐচ্ছিক আদর বা স্পর্শের মতো নয়।

কিন্তু “প্রয়োজন” মানেই শিশুর শরীরের ওপর ইচ্ছেমতো অধিকার পাওয়া নয়।

যতটা সম্ভব আগে বলুন:

“আমি এখন তোমাকে কোলে তুলে রাস্তা থেকে সরিয়ে নিচ্ছি।”

“আমি তোমার ডায়াপার বদলাব।”

“ডাক্তার তোমার পেটটা দেখবেন। তুমি চাইলে আমার হাত ধরতে পারো।”

সম্ভব হলে বিকল্প দিন:

“তুমি নিজে উঠবে, নাকি আমি কোলে নেব?”

“প্রথমে হাত ধুব, নাকি মুখ?”

শিশুর অস্বস্তি খেয়াল করুন। প্রয়োজনের চেয়ে বেশি জোর ব্যবহার করবেন না। আর কোনো অভিজ্ঞতা তাকে ভয় পাইয়ে দিলে, পরে তার সঙ্গে কথা বলুন এবং আবার নিরাপত্তা ও বিশ্বাস তৈরি করার চেষ্টা করুন।

প্রয়োজনীয় যত্নেও শিশুর সম্মান ও মর্যাদা থাকে।

৭. গতকালের “হ্যাঁ” আজকের “হ্যাঁ” নয়

চায়ের ক্ষেত্রে

কেউ গত শনিবার আপনার বাসায় এসে চা খেয়েছিল।

তার মানে এই নয় যে মঙ্গলবার তার সামনে চায়ের কাপ রেখে আপনি বলতে পারেন:

“গত সপ্তাহে তো খেয়েছিলে। আজও খেতে হবে।”

হয়তো আজ তার চা খেতে ইচ্ছে করছে না।

হয়তো গতবার Earl Grey ভালো লেগেছিল, কিন্তু আজ সে দুধ চা চায়।

হয়তো আজ সে কোনো চা-ই চায় না।

জড়িয়ে ধরা বা চুমুর ক্ষেত্রে

একটি শিশু গতকাল আপনাকে জড়িয়ে ধরেছিল বলেই আজও তাকে জড়িয়ে ধরতে হবে—এমন নয়।

একজন বন্ধু আগে আপনার কাছ থেকে Hug নিয়েছে বলেই প্রতিবার দেখা হলে আপনি অনুমতি ছাড়া তাকে জড়িয়ে ধরতে পারেন না।

এক ধরনের স্পর্শে “হ্যাঁ” বলা মানে সব ধরনের স্পর্শে “হ্যাঁ” নয়।

একজন মানুষকে “হ্যাঁ” বলা মানে সবাইকে “হ্যাঁ” নয়।

মূল কথা

Consent নির্দিষ্ট মানুষ, নির্দিষ্ট কাজ এবং নির্দিষ্ট মুহূর্তের জন্য।

এটা একবার সই করে সারা জীবনের জন্য দিয়ে দেওয়া কোনো Contract নয়।

চায়ের ক্ষেত্রে বুঝি, আদরের ক্ষেত্রে ভুলে যাই কেন?

যেকোনো Hug, চুমু, কুচকুচি বা স্পর্শের জায়গায় যদি আপনি “এক কাপ চা” বসিয়ে চিন্তা করেন, তাহলে কারও সীমা অতিক্রম করার অযৌক্তিক দিকটা হঠাৎ খুব পরিষ্কার হয়ে যায়।

Consent শুধু “না” বলতে শেখা নয়। এটি “না” শুনতে শেখাও। এটি জিজ্ঞেস করতে শেখা। সন্দেহ হলে থামতে শেখা। কারও মত বদলে গেলে সেটা ব্যক্তিগত অপমান হিসেবে না নেওয়া। আর সবচেয়ে গুরুত্বপূর্ণ—ভালোবাসা, সম্পর্ক, বয়স বা আত্মীয়তার নামে কারও শরীরের ওপর অধিকার দাবি না করা।

আমি চাই আমার ছেলে জানুক, তার শরীর তার নিজের।

কিন্তু আমি এটাও চাই সে জানুক, অন্য মানুষের শরীরও তাদের নিজের।

সে “না” বলতে পারবে।

আর অন্য কেউ “না” বললে তাকেও থামতে হবে।

আমি তার জন্য কিছু Visual Aid তৈরি করেছি। কিন্তু সত্যি বলতে, এগুলো শুধু ওর জন্য নয়। এগুলো আমার জন্যও।

কারণ আমি আমার ছেলেকে Consent শেখাচ্ছি ঠিকই, কিন্তু ওর পাশে দাঁড়িয়ে আমিও এখনো শিখছি।

আরও দেখুন ও পড়ুন

• Tea Consent — Blue Seat Studios
• RAINN: Consent 101
• NSPCC: শিশুদের শরীর, “না” বলা এবং শারীরিক সীমা নিয়ে Talk PANTS

It is ridiculous that I have to tell myself—really tell myself—that I need to be myself. As a girl, I learned that I had to be good. I had to be likable, amenable, agreeable—all those words. But nobody ever impressed upon me that I should be myself, because only then would I attract the people who were actually suited to me.

For almost thirty-six years, I have struggled so hard to fit in. To be liked. To copy other people. To figure out the correct way of being a person. I have wasted an enormous amount of time reshaping myself for people I thought I was supposed to get along with. And the energy. My God, the energy I have spent trying to become whatever version of me someone else might find acceptable. Looking back, it seems ridiculous that I was always trying so hard.

Almost thirty-six years old, and today I finally understood that I needed to be me. Only then would the bees meant for me know where to land. Instead, I kept squeezing myself into molds built from other people’s ideas of who I should be. I should have told them who I was. I should have allowed them to decide whether they liked the actual person instead of exhausting myself trying to become whoever they had imagined.

So today I am coming out. Not as anything new. As everything I have been hiding.

I am a geek. I love historical facts. I stim all the time. I mean all the time. I cannot sit still. If I find one of your words, sounds, expressions, or mannerisms adorable, there is a good chance I will pick it up from you. I repeat things people have said to me inside my head. I rehearse conversations before they happen—including any conversation that requires me to order food over the phone. I have an instinct to do the exact opposite of whatever you order me to do. Ask me, and perhaps I can do it. Make it a demand, and suddenly every part of my body wants to resist. I know it does not always make sense. It feels like a compulsion. I am nurturing. I become the momma in almost every group, but I also like telling jokes.

I have severe ADHD, and I have developed rituals around not trusting my own memory. Before leaving the house, I check that everything is properly switched off and locked. Checking the stove is literally number one on my list. Still, I would rather drive all the way back home to check it again than spend the entire day stewing in the possibility that I left the gas on. I cannot deal well with the unexpected. I need time to prepare for how I am going to react. I am not exactly renowned for my flexibility.

I read and watch fantasy, fiction, romance, comedy, thrillers, horror, and sometimes complete cheese. I watch anime. I watch Bridgerton. I also enjoy The Stormlight Archive and The Hobbit. I cannot choose one genre. I cannot choose one flavor. I love everything. I love all colors. Except orange. I need to make it clear that I do not accept orange. I know it is somehow connected to losing my sibling when I was two and to a memory involving an orange, but I do not understand the association completely. I only know that something inside me still rejects the color.

I also need to clarify everything. If I tell you that I took a tablet after drinking water, but then remember that I actually took the tablet first, I will need to correct myself. It changes absolutely nothing about the story, but until I correct it, I will keep thinking of myself as a liar.

My parents were deeply problematic, so many of the ideas I grew up believing were normal were completely skewed. My mother behaved narcissistically and lied so constantly that I grew up believing many of the things she did were normal. My father was a chauvinist who controlled every aspect of life he could by being cruel to people. When I was eight, he told me I could not even iron a shirt properly. He told me I would be better off dead. That was not even close to the worst thing he said to me. But I was so committed to denying how badly my parents treated me that I used to make coffee for myself, pour it into a bottle, and pretend that বাবা had made it for me because he loved me. The depth of my denial about how crappy my parents were is still astounding.

What else can I tell you about myself? Many times, I have said shit out loud that did not sound nearly as crappy inside my head. Once, I told a girl that I was worried about her and about our exam. In the very next sentence, I accused her of cheating. I did not mean to. I promise. Inside my head, I was expressing genuine concern for her. It sounded much better there. Later that night, I realized how awful my words must have sounded to her. She is not the only person I remember.

Once, I wanted to tell a family member that they could leave their plate and that I would take care of it. Instead, I said, “People who have dishwashers don’t need you to wash their dishes for them.” I did not mean to sound condescending. At the time, I did not even understand that it sounded condescending. I was simply trying to say, Please leave the plate. You don’t have to do that. But those were not the words that came out.

To the friend whose side I left after the disaster: I am sorry. I was the first person to see what had happened. Somehow, inside my head, being the first to see it became the same as being responsible for it—or at least being the person who would be blamed. I thought my presence would make everything worse, so I left. At the time, I genuinely believed I was making your trouble lighter by removing myself from it. Only now do I understand that you may have wanted me to stay. Later, when our friendship broke down, I thought it was about money. Perhaps some of it was. But I did not understand that there might have been another wound underneath it: when something terrible happened, I disappeared. If I could live that moment again, I would stay.

I would use my words instead of deciding for you what you needed. I would ask:

What do you need from me?

How can I make this easier for you?

And I would do whatever you needed me to do—help clean up, make calls, talk, or simply sit beside you without trying to fix anything. I cannot redo that day. I understand that describing what I would do now does not change what I did then. But I am sorry that I left. I wish I had stayed.

To the person I looked at questioningly for eating pizza with utensils: I was not trying to mock you. I was trying to say something—anything—because I did not know how to begin a conversation with you. It turns out that saying nothing would have been better.

There have been so many moments when I said or did something without intending to hurt anyone, but I hurt them anyway. Often, I cannot imagine an apology that feels like enough. I wish I could find everyone I have hurt without realizing it and explain that I did not intend to be an ass. But I understand now that my intention did not make my words hurt any less. The fact that I did not know how to communicate what I meant does not undo what the other person heard or experienced.

Some of those moments still haunt me at night. I have stayed awake replaying the conversations inside my head and imagining different versions of them—versions where I said something softer, where I explained myself more clearly, where I stayed, or where I came back later and made things right. I wonder how I would apologize if I ever had the chance, and I have doubted whether I could even manage a proper apology when I could not say the first thing without messing it up. How could I make you understand that I really was concerned all those times, when I could not manage to say even one simple sentence in a way that sounded like concern?

I am not saying any of this to ask those people to relieve me of my guilt. They may remember these moments differently. They may not forgive me. Some of them may not remember me at all. But I still want to say it plainly:

I am sorry.

Being honest about myself means admitting both things: I have hurt people without meaning to, and I have loved people without always knowing how to show it. I love spending time with my son and my husband. My siblings might not know this, but I adore spending time with them too—whether we are doing something together or simply chatting. I wonder how many times I have felt love, concern, or affection for someone but failed to communicate it in a way they could recognize. How many times did I assume people knew how much they mattered to me because the feeling was so obvious inside my own head? It was obvious to me. That does not mean I ever showed it to them.

Over the years, I have grown a lot. Especially since my son was born, I have learned more about myself and begun accepting myself as I am. Talking about what happens inside my head—what I think, what I feel, and how I reach the conclusions I do—has always felt so embarrassing that I barely ever did it. I do not think I am smart. I tend to believe that everything I have accomplished so far has been a fluke. Talk about impostor syndrome, am I right?

I love learning about religions, but I am not religious. I hate extremism, whether it is religious or political. I feel fatigued. I do not want to do work I dislike, but I also do not know what I actually like. I am very sensitive, and I cannot take criticism lightly. It becomes personal—not revenge personal. More like I feel so bad that I cry personal. And I will cry. I am so unsure of everything I write that I run it through ChatGPT to find out whether I even make sense. Yeah. I have zero confidence in myself. So little confidence that, in the past, I said yes to countless things while everything inside me screamed no.

I wonder where that came from. Was it my mother finding a piece of eggshell in the first egg I ever fried and deciding that it meant I would never be good at cooking? Was it hearing, “No one is ever going to marry you”? “Who is going to be your friend?” Was it my father saying that other children worshiped their parents while we could not even fetch a glass of water correctly? I do not know.

But now that I am a parent, I understand the importance of practice. Nobody is born already knowing how to do everything. Even talent needs time, mistakes, encouragement, and repetition before it can become skill. I understand how one cruel sentence, spoken while a child is still learning, can convince them that there is no point in trying again. And I understand how that sentence can follow them for the rest of their life.

My son is sensitive, like me, so I try to give him what I never received. Then, because apparently I cannot do anything without questioning myself, I worry about the opposite happening. I often tell my husband that I do not want to be so liberal that our child grows up to become an extremist like Ned Flanders. Yes, that is a genuine fear I have. My son is not even six, and he has taught himself Russian, Arabic, and Sanskrit letters and numbers on top of English, French, and বাংলা.

I hope I can nurture him into becoming the best version of himself—not the version of him I imagined before I knew who he was. I hope I do not dim his light by being cruel. I hope I do not dull his individuality by trying to make him easier for other people to accept. And perhaps I need to offer myself the same thing. Perhaps I am not supposed to discover the correct way to be a person. Perhaps I am supposed to discover who I already am underneath thirty-five years of performing, copying, pleasing, apologizing, and trying to fit.

I do not know exactly who that person is yet. That is the annoying part. But for the first time, I am trying to find out without asking everyone else for the correct answer. And if someone does not like the person they find? Fine. At least this time, it will actually be me they do not like.

For a long time, I did not really understand what a boundary was. I thought boundaries were something rude or difficult people used when they wanted to push others away. I thought saying no meant creating a problem. I thought quietly enduring discomfort was part of being polite—especially when the person making me uncomfortable was older, related to me, or “just joking.” Then this simple song explained something I had needed language for my entire life:

A boundary is not a wall. It is not a punishment. It is not another way of saying, “I hate you.” A boundary says: this is where I begin, this is where I end, and this is how you can be close to me without hurting me.

That distinction matters. I am also learning another important distinction: a boundary is not a command that forces another person to behave exactly as I want. It is a clear statement of what I am comfortable with and what I will do if that limit continues to be ignored.

The magic of the song is not that it teaches children to be rude. It teaches them to be clear. It teaches that some people like hugs, tickling, closeness, and sharing, while other people do not. It teaches that feelings matter, even when you are small. It teaches that people cannot read each other’s minds, so asking before doing something helps us avoid crossing another person’s limits. Most importantly, it teaches that when someone says they are uncomfortable, we stop. It teaches children that they can say no without trying to be mean. Honestly, that is not something many of us grew up learning.

Love Does Not Erase Consent

In many families and cultures, affection is treated as something children owe adults. A grandparent wants a hug, so the child is expected to hug. An uncle or aunt wants to kiss their cheek, so the child is expected to stand still. Someone says, “I love you. Come here,” and suddenly the child’s discomfort is treated as bad manners. But we forget that love does not erase consent. Being adored does not mean being permanently available for touch.

I think about this often because so many things we normalize with children are actually boundary violations dressed up as affection, discipline, or fun:

• Forced hugs and kisses.
• Picking up a child who does not want to be held.
• Squeezing cheeks, pulling hair, or poking bodies.
• Tickling after a child has said stop.

And then there are the jokes. I was shamed for being a chubby child. I was poked because my shorts were considered too short. My hair was pulled because it looked like Maggi noodles. It was all supposed to be fun. It was all dismissed as teasing. But my body still remembers that those jokes happened to me, not with me. That difference matters too.

When a child says stop, the joke is over. If the adult continues, it is no longer a joke. It becomes a lesson:

• Your discomfort is funny to us.
• Your no is optional.
• Someone older, bigger, or louder can ignore your boundary as long as they call it love, teasing, or family.

That is not an idea that quietly disappears when we grow up.

Your Feelings Count Even When You Are Small

The song says, in its own simple way, that feelings are important regardless of someone’s size or age. That matters because so much of childhood is spent being told—directly or indirectly—that adult feelings are bigger than yours. Their disappointment matters. Their embarrassment matters. Their desire for a hug matters. Their wish to show affection matters. Your discomfort? That is called attitude. Your refusal? Disrespect. Your tears? Too sensitive. Your silence? Moodiness.

But the song says the opposite: your feelings count even when you are small. That is a radical thing to teach a child. It is also a radical thing to learn as an adult.

One of the most useful things the song gives children is language. Not theory. Not a lecture. Actual words:

“Please stop.”

It is direct. It is simple. It is usable. Children—especially children who rely on prepared scripts—may not be able to improvise under stress. When they are overwhelmed, embarrassed, frightened, or overstimulated, they may not have access to a beautifully worded explanation of what they need. So we give them phrases they can reach for:

• “Please stop.”
• “I don’t like that.”
• “I need space.”
• “Don’t touch my body.”
• “I don’t want a hug.”
• “Please don’t do that in front of me.”
• “That is mean.”
• “Ask me first.”
• “I changed my mind.”
• “I need you to listen when I say stop.”
• “I need a break.”
• “I need help.”

These are not magic words. Saying them does not guarantee that everyone will listen. But having the words is still better than being trapped inside discomfort without any way to name it.

Unlearning Alongside My Son

I am not only teaching these words to my son. I am learning them myself. I am learning that a child saying, “No hug,” is not rejecting love. A child saying, “Don’t tickle me,” is not ruining the fun. A child saying, “Don’t say that,” is not automatically being disrespectful. They are giving us information. They are not saying, “I don’t love you.” They are saying, “This is my boundary.”

As an adult, I am learning to say:

“I will not continue a conversation in which I am being insulted. If this continues, I will leave.”

That is not an attack. I am identifying the line and explaining what I will do to protect it. That is still difficult for me. I grew up believing that if someone was older, closer to me, louder, or more socially accepted, then perhaps their comfort mattered more than mine. I learned to laugh when I was uncomfortable. I learned to freeze when I did not know how to object. I learned to explain other people’s behavior away because confrontation felt worse than discomfort. Now I am trying to unlearn those habits beside my son.

Many boundary violations happen because adults assume closeness gives them automatic access:

• “I’m your grandmother.”
• “I’m your aunt.”
• “I changed your diapers.”
• “I’m family.”

But a relationship does not remove the need to ask. Family should be the first place where a child learns that their no is safe.

That does not mean teaching children that only their comfort matters. It means teaching them that everyone’s body, words, time, space, and feelings matter—including theirs. Boundaries work both ways. My son is learning that he can say no to unwanted touch, but he must also stop when someone else says no. He can need space, and so can another person. Loud sounds may hurt him, while being grabbed may distress somebody else. His feelings matter, and other people’s feelings matter too. That is not selfishness. That is respect.

What About Necessary Care and Safety?

Respecting a child’s bodily autonomy does not mean leaving every medical, hygiene, or safety decision entirely to the child. Sometimes an adult must intervene to keep a child safe or provide necessary care. A child cannot be allowed to run into traffic simply because they said no when we tried to stop them. Medical treatment, bathing, toileting, dental care, or another essential task may sometimes need to happen even when the child dislikes it.

But necessary care does not make respect unnecessary. Even then, we can explain what is happening and why. We can prepare the child in advance when possible. We can offer meaningful choices, avoid unnecessary force or surprise, use the least intrusive approach available, and acknowledge the child’s distress. If something frightening or unavoidable happens, we can return to it later. We can explain, listen, apologize for any preventable harm, and rebuild trust.

Safety may sometimes require us to override a child’s immediate preference. It should never become an excuse to stop treating them like a person.

How We Help Children Practise and Protect Boundaries

Give them exact words

We do not simply say, “Speak up.” We teach the sentence and practise it when everyone is calm. “What can Teddy say if someone takes his toy?” “What can you say if someone hugs you and you don’t want it?” “What can you say if you said yes before but have changed your mind?” The more familiar the words become during calm moments, the easier they may be to reach during stressful ones.

Offer alternatives

If a child does not want to hug, they can wave, high-five, fist-bump, blow a kiss, or simply say hello. Affection does not have to be physical to be real. The alternative should be an option, not another performance the child is forced to provide. Sometimes a quiet hello—or no interaction at all—is enough.

Back them up publicly

This is crucial. If a relative says, “Come give me a kiss,” and the child says no, the parent can calmly say:

“He said no. You can ask whether he would like to wave or give you a high-five instead.”

No lecture. No drama. Just support. That one sentence tells the child:

• I heard you.
• Your no matters.
• I will not push you into discomfort to keep someone else happy.

Model our own boundaries

This is the part I did not expect to be so difficult. My son is learning to say, “That’s not okay.” I am learning to say it too. I am learning to say, “Enough is enough.” I am learning that if someone repeatedly crosses my boundaries, I do not have to keep standing there and hoping they will suddenly understand. I can end the conversation. I can leave the room. I can limit someone’s access to me. I can stop returning to situations that repeatedly cause harm. Not because I am cruel. Because I am allowed to protect my peace.

Healing Together

Boundaries are not merely words we teach children so they behave nicely in therapy rooms or classrooms. Boundaries are a way of living. They are how we teach people to come close without causing harm. They are how we stay connected without disappearing.

When my son learns to say, “Please stop,” I am not only watching him learn something new. I am watching a younger version of myself finally receive the words she needed. My son is six. I am almost thirty-six. He is learning that his body belongs to him. I am learning that my peace belongs to me. We are learning together.

Maybe that is what healing sometimes looks like: a children’s song playing in the background while two people—one small and one grown—finally learn where they begin and where the world must stop.

References and Further Reading

• The American Academy of Pediatrics advises parents not to force or guilt children into hugs or kisses and recommends teaching body autonomy and offering alternatives such as waving or high-fives. Teaching Body Safety and Boundaries
• The NSPCC’s Talk PANTS resources teach that children have the right to say no to unwanted touch, including from relatives, and should tell a trusted adult when something makes them uncomfortable. NSPCC Talk PANTS
• The NSPCC’s guidance for autistic children also explains that adults may sometimes need to override a child’s immediate preference for safety, but should explain why and support the child’s understanding. Talk PANTS Guide for Parents and Carers of Autistic Children

অনেক দিন ধরে আমি আসলে বুঝতামই না, বাউন্ডারি জিনিসটা কী। আমি ভাবতাম, বাউন্ডারি হলো অসভ্য বা খিটখিটে মানুষের ব্যবহার—যারা অন্যদের দূরে ঠেলে দিতে চায়। আমি ভাবতাম, ‘না’ বলা মানে ঝামেলা সৃষ্টি করা। কোনো পরিস্থিতিতে অস্বস্তি হলেও চুপচাপ সহ্য করাই সৌজন্য—বিশেষ করে যখন অস্বস্তি তৈরি করা মানুষটি বয়সে বড়, নিজের আত্মীয়, অথবা “শুধু ইয়ার্কি” মারছিল। তারপর এই সহজ গানটি এমন একটি বিষয়ের ভাষা দিল, যে ভাষার জন্য আমি সারা জীবন অপেক্ষা করেছি:

বাউন্ডারি মানে আমাদের মাঝখানে শক্ত দেওয়াল তুলে দেওয়া নয়। এটা কোনো শাস্তিও নয়। এটা “আমি তোমাকে ঘৃণা করি” বলার আরেকটি উপায়ও নয়। ব্যক্তিগত সীমানা হলো—আমার শরীর, অনুভূতি, সময় ও স্বস্তির সীমা কোথায়, এবং আমার কাছাকাছি থাকতে হলে সেই সীমাকে কীভাবে সম্মান করতে হবে।

এই পার্থক্যটা ভীষণ জরুরি। আমি আরও একটি গুরুত্বপূর্ণ পার্থক্য শিখছি: বাউন্ডারি মানে অন্য কাউকে আমার ইচ্ছামতো চলতে বাধ্য করা নয়। বাউন্ডারি হলো—আমি কোন আচরণ মেনে নিতে পারি, কোনটা পারি না, এবং আমার সীমা বারবার অগ্রাহ্য করা হলে নিজেকে রক্ষা করতে আমি কী করব, সেটা স্পষ্টভাবে জানানো।

গানটির জাদু এই নয় যে এটি বাচ্চাদের অসভ্য হতে শেখায়। এটি তাদের স্পষ্টভাবে বলতে শেখায়। এটি শেখায়, কেউ হয়তো জড়িয়ে ধরা, কুচকুচি বা কাতুকুতু দেওয়া, কাছে আসা কিংবা নিজের জিনিস ভাগ করে নেওয়া পছন্দ করে; অন্য কেউ হয়তো একদমই পছন্দ করে না। এটি শেখায়, বয়স যত কমই হোক, অনুভূতির মূল্য আছে। মানুষ তো আর একে অপরের মনের কথা পড়তে পারে না, তাই কিছু করার আগে জিজ্ঞেস করে নিলে অন্যের সীমা পার হয়ে যাওয়ার আশঙ্কা কমে। সবচেয়ে গুরুত্বপূর্ণভাবে, এটি শেখায়—কেউ অস্বস্তির কথা জানালে আমরা থামি। কাউকে অপমান না করেও শান্তভাবে ‘না’ বলা যায়। আর সত্যি বলতে, আমাদের মধ্যে অনেকেই এই শিক্ষাটি পেয়ে বড় হইনি।

ভালোবাসা কখনো সম্মতির বিকল্প হতে পারে না

অনেক পরিবার ও সংস্কৃতিতে ভালোবাসা বা আদরকে এমন কিছু মনে করা হয়, যা বাচ্চারা বড়দের দিতে বাধ্য। দাদা-দাদি বা নানা-নানি জড়িয়ে ধরতে চান? বাচ্চাকে গিয়ে জড়িয়ে ধরতেই হবে। চাচা-মামা বা খালা-ফুফু গালে চুমু দিতে চান? বাচ্চাকে সোজা হয়ে দাঁড়িয়ে তা সহ্য করতে হবে। কেউ বলল, “তোমাকে কত ভালোবাসি! এদিকে এসো”—আর অমনি বাচ্চার অস্বস্তির নাম হয়ে গেল অ্যাটিটিউড বা বেয়াদবি। কিন্তু আমরা ভুলে যাই, ভালোবাসা কখনো সম্মতি বা কনসেন্ট-কে গায়েব করে দিতে পারে না। কাউকে প্রচণ্ড আদর করা মানেই এই নয় যে তার শরীরে যখন-তখন হাত দেওয়া যাবে।

আমি এই নিয়ে অনেক ভাবি। কারণ বাচ্চাদের সঙ্গে আমরা যেসব আচরণ স্বাভাবিক বানিয়ে ফেলেছি, তার অনেকগুলোই আসলে আদরের মোড়কে, শাসনের নামে কিংবা মজার ছলে করা একেকটি সীমানা লঙ্ঘন:

• জোর করে জড়িয়ে ধরা বা চুমু দেওয়া।
• যে বাচ্চা কোলে উঠতে চায় না, তাকে জোর করে তুলে নেওয়া।
• গাল টিপে ধরা, চুল টানা বা শরীরে খোঁচা দেওয়া।
• “থামো” বলার পরও কুচকুচি বা কাতুকুতু দিয়ে যাওয়া।

আর তারপর আসে ইয়ার্কি বা মজা। আমি ছোটবেলায় একটু মোটাসোটা ছিলাম বলে আমাকে অনেক বডি শেমিং সহ্য করতে হয়েছে। শর্টস ছোট ছিল বলে আমার শরীরে খোঁচা দেওয়া হয়েছে। চুল ম্যাগি নুডলসের মতো দেখতে ছিল বলে টেনে ধরে মজা করা হয়েছে। সবকিছুই নাকি মজা ছিল। সবকিছুকে ইয়ার্কি বলে উড়িয়ে দেওয়া হয়েছে। কিন্তু আমার শরীর আর মন আজও মনে রেখেছে—ওই মজাগুলো আমার সঙ্গে করা হয়নি; আমার ওপর করা হয়েছিল। এই পার্থক্যটাও অনেক বড়।

বাচ্চা যখন “থামো” বলে, তখন মজা সেখানেই শেষ। এরপরও কোনো বড় মানুষ তা চালিয়ে গেলে, সেটা আর ইয়ার্কি থাকে না। সেটা একটি শিক্ষায় পরিণত হয়:

• তোমার অস্বস্তি আমাদের কাছে মজার।
• তোমার ‘না’ ঐচ্ছিক।
• বয়সে বড়, শরীরে শক্তিশালী বা গলায় জোর বেশি—এমন কেউ তোমার সীমানা অগ্রাহ্য করতে পারে, যদি সে সেটাকে ভালোবাসা, ইয়ার্কি বা আত্মীয়তা বলে চালিয়ে দেয়।

এই শিক্ষা বড় হয়ে যাওয়ার সঙ্গে সঙ্গে মনের ভেতর থেকে চুপচাপ মুছে যায় না।

ছোট হলেও তোমার অনুভূতির মূল্য আছে

গানটিতে খুব সহজভাবে বলা হয়েছে, বয়স বা শরীরের আকার যত ছোটই হোক, অনুভূতির মূল্য আছে। এই কথাটি জরুরি। কারণ শৈশবের বড় একটি সময় আমরা সরাসরি বা পরোক্ষভাবে শুনি—বড়দের অনুভূতি আমাদের অনুভূতির চেয়ে বেশি গুরুত্বপূর্ণ। তাদের মন খারাপ হওয়া গুরুত্বপূর্ণ। তাদের লজ্জা পাওয়া গুরুত্বপূর্ণ। তাদের জড়িয়ে ধরার ইচ্ছা গুরুত্বপূর্ণ। তাদের আদর দেখানোর ইচ্ছা গুরুত্বপূর্ণ। তোমার অস্বস্তি? সেটার নাম অ্যাটিটিউড। তোমার অস্বীকৃতি? বেয়াদবি। তোমার কান্না? খুব বেশি সেনসিটিভ। তোমার নীরবতা? মেজাজ দেখানো।

কিন্তু গানটি ঠিক তার উল্টো কথা বলে: ছোট হলেও তোমার অনুভূতির মূল্য আছে। একটি বাচ্চাকে এটা শেখানো বৈপ্লবিক। একজন প্রাপ্তবয়স্ক মানুষের জন্য এটা নতুন করে উপলব্ধি করাও সমান বৈপ্লবিক।

গানটির সবচেয়ে বড় অবদানগুলোর একটি হলো, এটি বাচ্চাদের ব্যবহারযোগ্য ভাষা বা স্ক্রিপ্ট দেয়। কোনো কঠিন থিওরি নয়। কোনো লম্বা ভাষণ নয়। সরাসরি কিছু শব্দ:

“Please stop.”

কথাটি স্পষ্ট, সহজ এবং প্রয়োজনের মুহূর্তে ব্যবহার করা যায়। বাচ্চারা—বিশেষ করে যাদের আগে থেকে নির্দিষ্ট বাক্য শিখিয়ে দিতে হয়—মানসিক চাপের মধ্যে তাৎক্ষণিকভাবে সুন্দর করে কথা সাজাতে পারে না। তারা যখন ভয় পায়, লজ্জিত হয়, ওভারস্টিমুলেটেড হয়ে পড়ে কিংবা আবেগে ভেসে যায়, তখন নিজের প্রয়োজন ব্যাখ্যা করার মতো গুছানো ভাষা তাদের নাগালে নাও থাকতে পারে। তাই আমরা তাদের হাতে এমন কিছু বাক্য তুলে দিই, যেগুলো তারা প্রয়োজনের সময় ব্যবহার করতে পারে:

• “Please stop.” — দয়া করে থামো।
• “I don’t like that.” — আমার এটা ভালো লাগছে না।
• “I need space.” — আমার একটু জায়গা দরকার।
• “Don’t touch my body.” — আমার শরীরে হাত দেবে না।
• “I don’t want a hug.” — আমি জড়িয়ে ধরতে চাই না।
• “Please don’t do that in front of me.” — দয়া করে আমার সামনে এটা করবেন না।
• “That is mean.” — এটা কষ্ট দেওয়ার মতো আচরণ।
• “Ask me first.” — আগে আমাকে জিজ্ঞেস করো।
• “I changed my mind.” — আমি আমার সিদ্ধান্ত বদলেছি।
• “I need you to listen when I say stop.” — আমি থামতে বললে তোমাকে শুনতে হবে।
• “I need a break.” — আমার একটু বিরতি দরকার।
• “I need help.” — আমার সাহায্য দরকার।

এগুলো কোনো জাদুর শব্দ নয়। বাক্যগুলো বলতে পারলেই সবাই শুনবে, এমন নিশ্চয়তা নেই। তবু অস্বস্তির মধ্যে আটকে থেকে সেটার কোনো নামই দিতে না পারার চেয়ে, শব্দগুলো জানা অনেক ভালো।

ছেলের সঙ্গে সঙ্গে আমারও আনলার্ন করার চেষ্টা

আমি শুধু আমার ছেলেকে এই কথাগুলো শেখাচ্ছি না; নিজেও শিখছি। আমি শিখছি, একটি বাচ্চা যখন বলে, “আমি হাগ দেব না,” তার মানে সে ভালোবাসাকে প্রত্যাখ্যান করছে না। সে যখন বলে, “আমাকে কুচকুচি দিও না,” তখন সে মজা নষ্ট করছে না। সে যখন বলে, “এভাবে বোলো না,” তখন সে অবধারিতভাবে বেয়াদবি করছে না। সে আমাদের তথ্য দিচ্ছে। সে বলছে না, “আমি তোমাকে ভালোবাসি না।” সে বলছে, “এটা আমার সীমানা।”

একজন প্রাপ্তবয়স্ক মানুষ হিসেবে আমিও বলতে শিখছি:

“আমাকে অপমান করে কথা বলা হলে আমি এই আলোচনা চালিয়ে যাব না। এটা চলতে থাকলে আমি সরে যাব।”

এটা কাউকে আক্রমণ করা নয়। আমি শুধু আমার সীমা কোথায় এবং সেই সীমা ভাঙা চলতে থাকলে নিজেকে রক্ষা করতে আমি কী করব, সেটা জানাচ্ছি। এটা আজও আমার জন্য কঠিন। আমি বড় হয়েছি এটা ভেবে যে কেউ বয়সে বড় হলে, আমার কাছের মানুষ হলে, গলায় জোর বেশি হলে বা সমাজে বেশি গ্রহণযোগ্য হলে, হয়তো তার স্বাচ্ছন্দ্য আমার স্বাচ্ছন্দ্যের চেয়ে বেশি গুরুত্বপূর্ণ। আমি অস্বস্তির সময় হাসতে শিখেছিলাম। প্রতিবাদ করার ভাষা খুঁজে না পেয়ে স্তব্ধ হয়ে যেতে শিখেছিলাম। সংঘাতকে এত ভয় পেতাম যে অন্য মানুষের বাজে আচরণের জন্য নিজেই অজুহাত খুঁজে দিতাম। এখন আমি আমার ছেলের পাশে দাঁড়িয়ে সেই অভ্যাসগুলো আনলার্ন করার চেষ্টা করছি।

অনেক সময় বড়রা ভাবেন, সম্পর্কের ঘনিষ্ঠতা তাদের অবাধ অধিকার দিয়ে দেয়:

• “আমি তো তোমার নানি।”
• “আমি তো তোমার খালা।”
• “আমি তোমার ডায়াপার বদলেছি।”
• “আমি তো পরিবারেরই মানুষ।”

কিন্তু সম্পর্ক যত ঘনিষ্ঠই হোক, অনুমতি নেওয়ার প্রয়োজন শেষ হয়ে যায় না। পরিবারই হওয়া উচিত সেই প্রথম জায়গা, যেখানে বাচ্চা শিখবে—তার ‘না’ বলা নিরাপদ।

এর মানে এই নয় যে বাচ্চাকে শেখানো হচ্ছে, শুধু তার নিজের স্বস্তিই গুরুত্বপূর্ণ। এর মানে হলো তাকে শেখানো—সবার শরীর, কথা, সময়, ব্যক্তিগত পরিসর এবং অনুভূতির মূল্য আছে; তার নিজেরগুলোরও। সীমানা দুমুখী রাস্তা। আমার ছেলে যেমন শিখছে, অনাকাঙ্ক্ষিত স্পর্শে সে ‘না’ বলতে পারে, তেমনি তাকে এটাও শিখতে হবে যে অন্য কেউ ‘না’ বললে তাকেও থামতে হবে। তার যেমন জায়গা দরকার হতে পারে, অন্যেরও পারে। উচ্চ শব্দ তার জন্য কষ্টকর হতে পারে, আবার অন্য কারও জন্য হঠাৎ জড়িয়ে ধরা বা টেনে ধরা কষ্টকর হতে পারে। তার অনুভূতির মূল্য আছে। অন্য মানুষের অনুভূতিরও মূল্য আছে। সেটা স্বার্থপরতা নয়। সেটাই সম্মান।

প্রয়োজনীয় যত্ন ও নিরাপত্তার ক্ষেত্রে কী হবে?

বাচ্চার নিজের শরীরের ওপর অধিকারকে সম্মান করার অর্থ এই নয় যে চিকিৎসা, পরিচ্ছন্নতা বা নিরাপত্তার প্রতিটি সিদ্ধান্ত সম্পূর্ণভাবে বাচ্চার ওপর ছেড়ে দিতে হবে। কখনো কখনো বাচ্চাকে নিরাপদ রাখতে বা প্রয়োজনীয় যত্ন দিতে বড়দের হস্তক্ষেপ করতেই হয়। রাস্তা পার হওয়ার সময় বাচ্চা ‘না’ বলেছে বলে তাকে গাড়ির সামনে দৌড়াতে দেওয়া যায় না। চিকিৎসা, গোসল, টয়লেট, দাঁতের যত্ন কিংবা অন্য কোনো জরুরি কাজ বাচ্চার অপছন্দ হলেও কখনো কখনো করতেই হতে পারে।

কিন্তু যত্নটি প্রয়োজনীয় হলেই সম্মান অপ্রয়োজনীয় হয়ে যায় না। তখনও আমরা কী হতে যাচ্ছে এবং কেন দরকার, সেটা বুঝিয়ে বলতে পারি। সম্ভব হলে আগে থেকে প্রস্তুত করতে পারি। অর্থপূর্ণ বিকল্প দিতে পারি। অপ্রয়োজনীয় জোর বা আকস্মিকতা এড়াতে পারি। সবচেয়ে কম হস্তক্ষেপের পদ্ধতি বেছে নিতে পারি। বাচ্চার কষ্টকে ছোট না করে স্বীকার করতে পারি। কোনো ভীতিকর বা এড়ানো অসম্ভব ঘটনা ঘটলে পরে আবার সেটি নিয়ে কথা বলতে পারি, ব্যাখ্যা করতে পারি, ওর কথা শুনতে পারি, এড়ানো সম্ভব ছিল—এমন কোনো ক্ষতি করে থাকলে ক্ষমা চাইতে পারি এবং আবার বিশ্বাস তৈরি করতে পারি।

নিরাপত্তার জন্য কখনো বাচ্চার তাৎক্ষণিক ইচ্ছার বিরুদ্ধে যেতে হতে পারে। সেটা কখনোই তার সঙ্গে মানুষের মতো আচরণ করা বন্ধ করার অজুহাত হতে পারে না।

আমরা কীভাবে বাচ্চাদের সীমানা চর্চা ও রক্ষা করতে সাহায্য করতে পারি?

নির্দিষ্ট শব্দ ও বাক্য শেখাতে হবে

শুধু “মুখ ফুটে বলো” বললে হবে না। ঠিক কোন বাক্যটি বলতে হবে, সেটা শেখাতে হবে এবং সবাই শান্ত থাকা অবস্থায় বাক্যগুলো অনুশীলন করতে হবে। “কেউ টেডির খেলনা নিয়ে গেলে টেডি কী বলতে পারে?” “কেউ তোমাকে জড়িয়ে ধরলে এবং তুমি না চাইলে কী বলতে পারো?” “আগে হ্যাঁ বলেছিলে, কিন্তু এখন সিদ্ধান্ত বদলেছ—তখন কী বলতে পারো?” শান্ত সময়ে শব্দগুলো যত পরিচিত হবে, মানসিক চাপের মুহূর্তে সেগুলো মনে পাওয়া তত সহজ হতে পারে।

বিকল্প দিতে হবে

বাচ্চা জড়িয়ে ধরতে না চাইলে হাত নাড়তে পারে, হাই-ফাইভ বা ফিস্ট-বাম্প দিতে পারে, ফ্লাইং কিস দিতে পারে অথবা শুধু ‘হ্যালো’ বলতে পারে। ভালোবাসা সত্যি হওয়ার জন্য শারীরিক স্পর্শ জরুরি নয়। তবে বিকল্পটিও যেন আরেকটি বাধ্যতামূলক অভিনয় না হয়ে যায়। কোনো কোনো সময় একটি শান্ত ‘হ্যালো’—এমনকি কোনো মেলামেশা না করাও—যথেষ্ট।

সবার সামনে বাচ্চার পাশে দাঁড়াতে হবে

এটা সবচেয়ে জরুরি। কোনো আত্মীয় যদি বলেন, “এসো, একটা চুমু দাও,” আর বাচ্চা ‘না’ বলে, মা-বাবা শান্তভাবে বলতে পারেন:

“ও না বলেছে। আপনি চাইলে জিজ্ঞেস করতে পারেন, ও হাত নাড়বে বা হাই-ফাইভ দেবে কি না।”

কোনো লেকচার নয়। কোনো নাটক নয়। শুধু সমর্থন। এই একটি বাক্য বাচ্চাকে জানায়:

• আমি তোমার কথা শুনেছি।
• তোমার ‘না’-র মূল্য আছে।
• অন্য কাউকে খুশি রাখতে আমি তোমাকে অস্বস্তির মধ্যে ঠেলে দেব না।

নিজের সীমানাও দেখিয়ে শেখাতে হবে

এই অংশটি যে এত কঠিন হবে, আমি ভাবিনি। আমার ছেলে যখন “That’s not okay” বলতে শিখছে, আমিও একই কথা বলতে শিখছি। আমিও “Enough is enough” বলতে শিখছি। আমি শিখছি, কেউ বারবার আমার সীমানা অগ্রাহ্য করলে শুধু একদিন সে বুঝবে—এই আশায় সেখানে দাঁড়িয়ে থাকতে আমি বাধ্য নই। আমি আলোচনা শেষ করতে পারি। ঘর থেকে বেরিয়ে যেতে পারি। আমার জীবনে কারও প্রবেশাধিকার সীমিত করতে পারি। যে পরিস্থিতি আমাকে বারবার আঘাত করে, সেখানে ফিরে যাওয়া বন্ধ করতে পারি। আমি নির্দয় বলে নয়; নিজের মানসিক শান্তি রক্ষা করার অধিকার আমার আছে বলে।

একসঙ্গে সুস্থ হয়ে ওঠা

বাউন্ডারি শুধু এমন কিছু শব্দ নয়, যা থেরাপি রুম বা ক্লাসরুমে ভালোভাবে আচরণ করার জন্য বাচ্চাদের শিখিয়ে দেওয়া হয়। বাউন্ডারি হলো বাঁচার একটি ধরন। এটি মানুষকে শেখায়, কীভাবে আঘাত না দিয়ে একে অপরের কাছে আসতে হয়; কীভাবে নিজের অস্তিত্ব হারিয়ে না ফেলে অন্য মানুষের সঙ্গে যুক্ত থাকা যায়।

আমার ছেলে যখন “Please stop” বলতে শেখে, আমি শুধু তাকে নতুন কিছু শিখতে দেখি না। আমি আমার নিজের ছয় বছর বয়সী ছোট রূপটিকেও দেখতে পাই—যে মেয়েটি অবশেষে সেই শব্দগুলো পাচ্ছে, যেগুলো তার বহু বছর আগেই পাওয়া উচিত ছিল। আমার ছেলের বয়স ছয়। আমার প্রায় ছত্রিশ। ও শিখছে, ওর শরীর ওর নিজের। আমি শিখছি, আমার মানসিক শান্তিও আমার নিজের। আমরা একসঙ্গে শিখছি।

আর হয়তো সুস্থ হয়ে ওঠা কখনো কখনো ঠিক এমনই দেখতে: পেছনে বাচ্চাদের একটি গান বাজছে, আর দুজন মানুষ—একজন ছোট, একজন বড়—অবশেষে শিখছে তাদের সীমানা কোথায় শুরু হয় এবং পৃথিবীকে কোথায় থামতে হয়।

তথ্যসূত্র ও আরও পড়ুন

• আমেরিকান একাডেমি অব পেডিয়াট্রিকস মা-বাবাদের পরামর্শ দেয়, বাচ্চাকে জোর করে বা অপরাধবোধ তৈরি করে কাউকে জড়িয়ে ধরতে বা চুমু দিতে বাধ্য না করতে। তারা বডি অটোনমি শেখানো এবং হাত নাড়া বা হাই-ফাইভের মতো বিকল্প দেওয়ার কথাও বলে। Teaching Body Safety and Boundaries
• NSPCC-এর Talk PANTS রিসোর্স শেখায়, আত্মীয়সহ যেকোনো মানুষের অনাকাঙ্ক্ষিত স্পর্শে বাচ্চার ‘না’ বলার অধিকার আছে। কোনো কিছু অস্বস্তিকর লাগলে নিরাপদ ও বিশ্বস্ত কোনো বড় মানুষকে জানানোও জরুরি। NSPCC Talk PANTS
• অটিস্টিক বাচ্চাদের জন্য NSPCC-এর গাইডে বলা হয়েছে, নিরাপত্তার জন্য কখনো কখনো বাচ্চার তাৎক্ষণিক ইচ্ছার বিরুদ্ধে যেতে হতে পারে। কিন্তু তখনও কারণটি ব্যাখ্যা করা এবং বাচ্চাকে বুঝতে সাহায্য করা জরুরি। Talk PANTS Guide for Parents and Carers of Autistic Children

Fucking yellow jackets!

I got stung four times today. It could have been two yellow jackets, or it could have been one particularly determined asshole. I have no idea. I was outside cutting spider grass—or whatever that plant is called—in my garden when, without any warning whatsoever, something stabbed me.

At first, I was just confused.

What the hell? Why is this weed so sharp?

Then it happened again, and my brain offered another brilliant explanation:

Do crickets bite?

Because apparently “cricket” made more sense to me than “angry insect repeatedly injecting venom into my body.”

By the third sting, however, even I had gathered enough evidence to understand that the grass was not attacking me and neither were the crickets. Something was stinging me. Repeatedly.

Then I saw Kabbo.

He was standing right beside the back door, completely unaware and fully within range of these freaking yellow jackets.

I don’t know what came over me after that. One moment, I was trying to understand why the garden had suddenly declared war on me. The next, my mind became perfectly clear. There was no confusion, no hesitation, and no standing around wondering what to do.

I sprinted inside, slammed the door and windows shut, shoved Kabbo into another room, and yelled for his father. A few yellow jackets had apparently followed me inside, so I kept searching for them and swatting them until I was sure they were gone.

Only then was I finally able to breathe.

It is strange how the mind works. When I am trying to decide what to cook for dinner, I can stare into the refrigerator for fifteen minutes as if the shelves contain some ancient riddle. Put my child in danger, though, and apparently I become an action hero.

Not a graceful action hero, obviously. More like a screaming, dishevelled one with four sting sites, garden dirt on her clothes, and no idea whether she had just been attacked by one insect or an entire organized crime syndicate.

Once everyone was safe and the adrenaline started wearing off, the whole thing became a little hilarious.

Then I thought about how horrible it would have been if I had been stung even one more time. I imagined my face swelling until I looked unusually plump and perfectly round, and the picture in my head made me cackle out loud a little.

Yes, I know. An allergic reaction is not funny. Anaphylaxis is dangerous and can happen quickly. But my brain has never been particularly respectful about where it finds humor. Sometimes it hands me a terrible mental image before the sensible part of me has even entered the room.

And the sensible part did arrive.

It reminded me that Kabbo could have been stung. My husband could have been stung. Kabbo could have panicked, run farther into the yard, or been unable to explain exactly what was happening to him. That thought wiped the smile right off my face.

I thanked the universe that I was the one who took the hit for all of them. Four times, apparently. I called pest control immediately, and I have not opened a single door or window since. As far as I am concerned, the yellow jackets own the backyard until a professional formally returns it to me.

Of course, once the immediate crisis was over, I did what I always do: I started researching. Because why did these tiny flying demons attack me in the first place? What was their problem? I was cutting grass. I was not trying to overthrow their government.

It turns out that yellow jackets often build nests underground or inside other dark, protected spaces. Dense plants and landscaping can make the entrance difficult to see. If there was a nest under or near that spider grass, the cutting and movement probably felt like a giant predator was trying to tear open their home.

So, from their point of view, they were not launching an unprovoked attack against an innocent woman minding her own business. They were defending their nest. I understand that intellectually. Emotionally, they can still go fuck themselves.

The more offensive discovery was that yellow jackets are not even useless. They hunt other insects, including caterpillars and maggots, and help control pests that can damage gardens and crops. Adults also feed on nectar and can contribute to pollination. Removing them entirely would mean removing one of the predators already doing free pest control in the ecosystem. Penn State Extension

So now I am expected to respect them too. Wonderful.

I can acknowledge their ecological importance while also believing that the particular colony living beside my back door has chosen an unacceptable address. They are welcome to serve the ecosystem somewhere that is not within stinging distance of my child.

This is also why I called pest control instead of pouring boiling water, gasoline, or some homemade disaster into the hole. Apart from being dangerous, disturbing an underground nest without knowing what you are doing is an excellent way to release an enraged swarm directly into your own face.

I also learned that the fake paper nests people hang to scare yellow jackets away are not supported by clear evidence. Apparently, nobody informed the yellow jackets about the popular claim that they refuse to live within two hundred feet of another colony. Real nests have been found reasonably close together. So much for solving the problem with a brown paper bag and positive thinking. Penn State Extension

For now, I washed the sting sites with soap and water and used a cold pack for the pain and swelling. Because my symptoms remained local, ordinary first aid was reasonable. But trouble breathing, swelling of the face, lips or throat, widespread hives, dizziness, fainting, vomiting, or a weak, rapid pulse would mean calling emergency services—not standing in front of a mirror laughing about looking plump. Mayo Clinic

I am also keeping the outdoor trash tightly closed and making sure we do not leave food, sugary drinks, or fallen fruit outside, especially during late summer when yellow jackets become far more interested in whatever humans are eating.

Look at me. Stung four times and still learning how to become a considerate neighbor.

But only from behind a locked door. Pest control can handle the diplomacy.

বালের ভিমরুল!

আজকে আমারে চার চারবার হুল ফুটাইছে। হইতে পারে দুইটা ভিমরুল ছিল, আবার এমনও হতে পারে একটাই সাইকো পোকা আমার পিছে একদম লেগে ছিল। আমি কিচ্ছু জানি না। আমি ব্যাকইয়ার্ডে গিয়ে স্পাইডার গ্রাস—বা যে গাছই হোক—সেটা ছাঁটতেছিলাম, আর কোনোপ্রকার ওয়ার্নিং ছাড়াই হঠাৎ কিছু একটা এসে আমাকে একদম বিঁধায়ে দিল।

প্রথমে তো আমি পুরাই কনফিউজড।

কী বাল! এই ঘাস এত ধারালো কেন?

তারপর যখন দ্বিতীয়বার ফুটাইলো, আমি ভাবলাম:

আচ্ছা, ঝিঁঝিঁ পোকা কি কামড়ায়?

কারণ “ঝিঁঝিঁ পোকা” ভাবাটা বেশি লজিক্যাল ছিল—বরং একটা ক্ষেপা পোকা যে ঘন ঘন আমার শরীরে বিষ ঢালতেছে, সেটা মানার চেয়ে!

কিন্তু তিন নম্বর হুলটা খাওয়ার পর আমার মতো মানুষেরও যথেষ্ট প্রমাণ জমে গেছিল এটা বোঝার জন্য যে, ঘাস আমাকে অ্যাটাক করতেছে না, আর ঝিঁঝিঁ পোকাও না। কিছু একটা আমাকে হুল ফুটায়া যাচ্ছে। বারবার।

ঠিক তখনই আমার নজর গেল কাব্বোর দিকে।

ও পিছনের দরজার একদম পাশেই দাঁড়ায় ছিল, কোনো খবরই নাই ওর, আর এই হারামী ভিমরুলের একদম রেঞ্জের মধ্যে!

ওকে দেখার পর আমার মধ্যে যে কী ভর করল! এক মুহূর্ত আগেও আমি বোঝার চেষ্টা করতেছিলাম যে বাগানটা হঠাৎ আমার বিরুদ্ধে যুদ্ধ ঘোষণা করল কেন, আর পরের মুহূর্তেই আমার মাথা একদম ক্লিয়ার। কোনো দ্বিধা নাই, কোনো চিন্তা নাই, কী করব না করব ভেবে সময় নষ্ট করার কোনো প্রশ্নই আসে না।

আমি সোজা দৌড়ে ভেতরে ঢুকলাম, দরজা-জানালা যা ছিল বন্ধ করলাম, কাব্বোকে ঠেলে আরেকটা রুমে পাঠায় দিলাম, আর ওর বাবাকে চিল্লায়া ডাকলাম। কয়টা ইয়েলো জ্যাকেট আমার পিছু পিছু ভেতরেও ঢুকে পড়ছিল, তাই আমি ওগুলোকে খুঁজে খুঁজে পিটায়া মারলাম—যতক্ষণ না নিশ্চিত হলাম যে সব শেষ।

সব থামার পর গিয়ে আমি শেষমেশ একটু শ্বাস নিতে পারলাম।

মানুষের মন যে কীভাবে কাজ করে! রাতে কী রান্না করব সেটা ঠিক করতে গেলে আমি রেফ্রিজারেটরের দিকে পনেরো মিনিট এমনভাবে তাকায় থাকি যেন সেলফগুলোর মধ্যে কোনো রহস্য লুকায় আছে। কিন্তু আমার বাচ্চার ওপর কোনো বিপদ আসুক—আর সাথে সাথে আমি যেন একদম কোনো অ্যাকশন হিরো হয়ে যাই!

অবশ্য খুব একটা স্টাইলিশ অ্যাকশন হিরো না। বরং চার চারটা হুলের দাগ ওয়ালা, জামাকাপড়ে বাগানের কাদা মাখা, আর একটা পোকা না পুরা কোনো গ্যাং অ্যাটাক করছে তা না জানা এক উস্কোখুস্কো চিত্কার করা হিরো!

সবাই যখন সেফ আর আমার অ্যাড্রেনালিন রাশ একটু কমতে শুরু করল, পুরো বিষয়টা ভেবে আমার বেশ হাসি পাচ্ছিল।

তারপর ভাবলাম, ইশ! যদি আরেকটাও হুল ফুটাত, কী যে খারাপ অবস্থা হতো! আমি কল্পনায় দেখলাম আমার মুখ ফুলে একবারে গোল আর মোটাসোটা হয়ে গেছে, আর মাথার মধ্যে এই ছবিটা আসতেই আমি একা একাই একটু হেসে উঠলাম।

হ্যাঁ, আমি জানি। অ্যালার্জি হওয়া কোনো হাসির বিষয় না। অ্যানাফিল্যাক্সিস খুব মারাত্মক আর খুব দ্রুত ঘটতে পারে। কিন্তু কোনো পরিস্থিতিতে হাসতে হবে আর কোথায় গম্ভীর থাকতে হবে, আমার ব্রেইন কখনোই অত নিয়মকানুন মেনে চলে নাই। আসল আক্কেলওয়ালা সেন্স মাথায় ঢোকার আগেই আমার ব্রেইন আমাকে একটা বিচ্ছিরি ছবি এনে হাতে ধরায়া দেয়।

তবে সেন্সও শেষ পর্যন্ত আসল।

সে আমাকে মনে করায় দিল যে কাব্বোকেও তো হুল ফুটাতে পারত! আমার জামাইকেও ফুটাতে পারত! কাব্বো হয়তো প্যানিক করে আরও উঠানের দিকে দৌড়ে যেত, অথবা ঠিক কী হচ্ছে সেটাই আমাকে বুঝায়া বলতে পারত না। এই চিন্তাটা মাথায় আসতেই আমার মুখের হাসি একদম গায়েব হয়ে গেল।

আমি আল্লাহকে ধন্যবাদ দিলাম যে আঘাতটা আমিই খাইছি। চার চারবার! আমি সাথে সাথে পেস্ট কন্ট্রোলকে কল দিলাম, আর তারপর থেকে একটা দরজা বা জানালাও আর খুলি নাই। আমার হিসাব সোজা—প্রফেশনাল এসে উদ্ধার না করা পর্যন্ত ব্যাকইয়ার্ডের মালিক এখন ওই ইয়েলো জ্যাকেটগুলোই।

অবশ্যই, ঝামেলাটা সাময়িক মিটে যাওয়ার পর আমি সেটাই করলাম যা আমি সবসময় করি: রিসার্চ শুরু করলাম! কারণ এই ছোট ছোট উড়ন্ত শয়তানগুলো প্রথমত আমাকে কেন অ্যাটাক করতে গেল? এদের সমস্যাটা কী? আমি তো খালি ঘাস কাটতেছিলাম! আমি তো আর এদের রাজ্য দখল করতে যাই নাই!

জানতে পারলাম, ইয়েলো জ্যাকেট নাকি মাটির নিচে বা অন্য কোনো অন্ধকার, সেফ জায়গায় বাসা বানায়। ঘন গাছপালার কারণে বাসার মুখ দেখা কঠিন হয়ে যায়। যদি ওই স্পাইডার গ্রাসের নিচে বা আশেপাশে কোনো বাসা থেকে থাকে, তবে ঘাস কাটা আর নাড়াচাড়া দেখে ওদের মনে হইছে কোনো বিশাল প্রেডেটর এসে ওদের ঘরবাড়ি ধ্বংস করতে চাইছে।

সো, ওদের পয়েন্ট অফ ভিউ থেকে দেখলে, ওরা কিন্তু শান্তিতে থাকা এক নির্দোষ মহিলার ওপর অযথা হামলা চালায় নাই। ওরা ওদের বাসা বাঁচাতেছিল। ব্রেইন দিয়ে আমি বিষয়টা বুঝি। কিন্তু ইমোশনালি, ওরা চুদে মরুক!

এর চেয়েও বিরক্তিকর আবিষ্কার ছিল—ইয়েলো জ্যাকেট নাকি একেবারে ফালতুও না! ওরা নাকি অন্য পোকা-মাকড়, এমনকি শুয়োপোকা আর মাছি শিকার করে খায়, আর বাগান বা ফসলের ক্ষতি করে এমন পোকা কন্ট্রোল করতে সাহায্য করে। বড়গুলো নাকি ফুলের মধুও খায় আর পরাগায়নেও হেল্প করে। ওদের একদম গায়েব করে দেওয়া মানে নাকি ইকোসিস্টেমের এক ফ্রি পেস্ট কন্ট্রোলকে সরায়া দেওয়া!

তো এখন নাকি আমাকে ওদের রেসপেক্টও করতে হবে! জাস্ট ওয়ান্ডারফুল!

আমি ইকোসিস্টেমে ওদের গুরুত্ব মানতে পারি, কিন্তু একই সাথে এটাও বিশ্বাস করি যে আমার দরজার পাশে থাকা কলোনিটা একদম একটা বাজে অ্যাড্রেস পছন্দ করছে। আমার বাচ্চার নাগালের বাইরে গিয়ে যেখানে ইচ্ছা ওরা ইকোসিস্টেমের সেবা করুক, কোনো সমস্যা নাই।

এই কারণেই আমি ফুটন্ত পানি, পেট্রোল বা কোনো হোমমেড জিনিস গর্তে না ঢেলে পেস্ট কন্ট্রোল ডেকেছি। ডেঞ্জারাস হওয়ার পাশাপাশি, না বুঝে মাটির নিচের বাসায় ডিস্টার্ব করা মানে হলো এক ঝাঁক ক্ষিপ্ত পোকাকে সোজা নিজের মুখের ওপর ডেকে আনা!

আমি আরও জানলাম যে, ইয়েলো জ্যাকেটকে ভয় দেখানোর জন্য মানুষ যে নকল কাগজের বাসা ঝুলিয়ে রাখে, সেটার কোনো শক্ত প্রমাণ নাকি নাই! দৃশ্যত কেউ ইয়েলো জ্যাকেটদের এই পপুলার থিওরিটা জানায় নাই যে ওরা নাকি অন্য কলোনির ২০০ ফুটের মধ্যে থাকে না। বাস্তবে কাছাকাছি অনেক বাসা পাওয়া গেছে। সো, একটা ব্রাউন পেপারের ব্যাগ আর পজিটিভ থিংকিং দিয়ে প্রবলেম সলভ করার চিন্তা এখানেই শেষ!

আপাতত, আমি হুলের জায়গাগুলো সাবান আর পানি দিয়ে ধুয়ে ফেলেছি আর ব্যথা ও ফোলা কমানোর জন্য কোল্ড প্যাক ব্যবহার করেছি। যেহেতু সমস্যাটা শুধু ওই নির্দিষ্ট জায়গাতেই ছিল, তাই নরমাল ফার্স্ট এইডই যথেষ্ট ছিল। কিন্তু শ্বাসকষ্ট, মুখ, ঠোঁট বা গলা ফুলে যাওয়া, সারা শরীরে অ্যালার্জি ওঠা, মাথা ঘোরা, বমি হওয়া বা পালস কমে যাওয়া—এসব হলে সোজা ইমার্জেন্সিতে কল দেওয়া দরকার ছিল, আয়নার সামনে দাঁড়িয়ে ফোলা মুখ দেখে হাসার সময় থাকত না!

আমি বাইরের ডাস্টবিনগুলোও শক্ত করে আটকে রাখছি আর খেয়াল রাখছি যাতে বাইরে কোনো খাবার, মিষ্টি ড্রিঙ্কস বা পচা ফল জমে না থাকে—বিশেষ করে লেট সামারে, যখন ইয়েলো জ্যাকেট মানুষের খাবারের দিকে বেশি নজর দেয়।

আমার অবস্থা দেখো! চারবার হুল খেয়েও কীভাবে এক শান্তিকামী প্রতিবেশী হওয়া যায় তা শিখতেছি!

তবে সেটা অবশ্যই বন্ধ দরজার ওপার থেকেই। এই সব আলোচনা পেস্ট কন্ট্রোলই সামলাক!

The pain in my chest. The sweating. The overwhelming rush of emotion. The feeling that I was losing control of my body and everything around me. I genuinely thought I was having a heart attack.

Turns out, I am autistic—and I also have social anxiety. Some of what I experienced was anxiety. Some of it may have been autistic overwhelm or sensory overload. For a long time, I did not know how to tell the difference.

I am not saying this means you are autistic too. It may not. I am saying that it helps to identify what is happening inside you. Maybe, with the right words and the right support, someone else can begin addressing what troubles them a little sooner than I did.

I finally have names for some of the things I experience. I have learned to accept them, and I am still learning how to live with—and care for—my autistic mind and my social anxiety.

I only wish I had understood myself sooner.

Further reading

• Understanding anxiety in autistic people — Leicestershire Partnership NHS Trust
• Anxiety and depression in autistic adults: a systematic review and meta-analysis — PubMed

বুকে একটা তীব্র ব্যথা, শরীর গুলিয়ে ঘাম ছুটে যাওয়া, আর মাথার মধ্যে emotion-এর একটা প্রচণ্ড ঝড়। মনে হতো চারপাশের সবকিছু আর নিজের শরীর—কোনোটার ওপরই আমার কোনো control নাই। আমি সত্যি সত্যিই ভাবতাম আমার বোধহয় heart attack হচ্ছে।

পরে গিয়ে জানলাম, আমি autistic—আর সেই সাথে আমার social anxiety-ও আছে। এতদিন ধরে আমি যা অনুভব করেছি, তার কিছু ছিল anxiety, আর কিছু ছিল autistic overwhelm বা sensory overload। দীর্ঘদিন আমি এই দুটোর মধ্যকার difference-টাই বুঝে উঠতে পারিনি।

আমি যে এটা বলছি, তার মানে এই না যে আপনিও autistic। হয়তো আপনি তা নন। আমি শুধু বলতে চাইছি, নিজের ভেতরে আসলে কী ঘটছে সেটা identify করতে পারাটা খুব জরুরি। হয়তো সঠিক word-গুলো খুঁজে পেলে আর সঠিক support থাকলে, অন্য কেউ তার ভেতরের কষ্টগুলোকে আমার চেয়ে একটু জলদি address করার চেষ্টা করতে পারবে।

এতদিনে এসে আমি অন্তত আমার experience-গুলোর একটা নাম দিতে পেরেছি। নিজেকে যেমন, সেভাবেই accept করতে শিখেছি। আর আমার এই autistic mind আর social anxiety-কে সাথে নিয়ে কীভাবে বেঁচে থাকতে হয়, সেটা এখনও শিখছি। I only wish I had understood myself sooner.

আরও পড়ুন / Further reading

• Autistic people-এর anxiety বোঝা — Leicestershire Partnership NHS Trust
• Autistic adults-এর anxiety ও depression: systematic review and meta-analysis — PubMed

বুকে একটা তীব্র ব্যথা, শরীর গুলিয়ে ঘাম ছুটে যাওয়া, আর মাথার মধ্যে আবেগের একটা প্রচণ্ড ঝড়। মনে হতো চারপাশের সবকিছু আর নিজের শরীর—কোনোটার ওপরই আমার কোনো নিয়ন্ত্রণ নাই। আমি সত্যি সত্যিই ভাবতাম আমার বোধহয় হার্ট অ্যাটাক হচ্ছে।

পরে গিয়ে জানলাম, আমি অটিস্টিক—আর সেই সাথে আমার সোশাল অ্যাংজাইটিও আছে। এতদিন ধরে আমি যা অনুভব করেছি, তার কিছু ছিল তীব্র দুশ্চিন্তা বা অ্যাংজাইটি, আর কিছু ছিল অটিস্টিক ওভারওয়েল্ম বা চারপাশের অতিরিক্ত উদ্দীপনার চাপ (সেন্সরি ওভারলোড)। দীর্ঘদিন আমি এই দুটোর মধ্যকার তফাতটাই বুঝে উঠতে পারিনি।

আমি যে এটা বলছি, তার মানে এই না যে আপনিও অটিস্টিক। হয়তো আপনি তা নন। আমি শুধু বলতে চাইছি, নিজের ভেতরে আসলে কী ঘটছে সেটা চিনতে পারাটা খুব জরুরি। হয়তো সঠিক শব্দগুলো খুঁজে পেলে আর সঠিক মানসিক সাপোর্ট থাকলে, অন্য কেউ তার ভেতরের কষ্টগুলোকে আমার চেয়ে একটু জলদি বুঝে সমাধান করার চেষ্টা করতে পারবে।

এতদিনে এসে আমি অন্তত আমার অনুভূতির একটা নাম দিতে পেরেছি। নিজেকে যেমন, সেভাবেই মেনে নিতে শিখেছি। আর আমার এই অটিস্টিক মন আর অ্যাংজাইটিকে ভালোবেসে কীভাবে বেঁচে থাকতে হয়, সেটা এখনও শিখছি।

আমার শুধু একটাই আক্ষেপ—ইশ, নিজেকে যদি আরও আগে একটু বুঝতে পারতাম!

আরও পড়ুন

• অটিস্টিক মানুষের অ্যাংজাইটি বোঝা — Leicestershire Partnership NHS Trust
• অটিস্টিক প্রাপ্তবয়স্কদের অ্যাংজাইটি ও ডিপ্রেশন: একটি সিস্টেম্যাটিক রিভিউ ও মেটা-অ্যানালাইসিস — PubMed

But let’s be clear: social rules, age-old traditions, or cultural expectations are never justifiable reasons for cruelty. Harm does not become acceptable just because it is common.

Abuse is abuse—no matter who commits it, where it happens, what influence they are under, or what tradition they try to hide behind. Recognize the signs, Unlearn the excuses, and Protect your boundaries.

কিন্তু একটা বিষয় খুব স্পষ্টভাবে জানা দরকার: সামাজিক নিয়ম, যুগ যুগ ধরে চলা ঐতিহ্য কিংবা সংস্কৃতির অজুহাত দেখিয়ে কখনোই নিষ্ঠুরতাকে সঠিক প্রমাণ করা যায় না। চারপাশে সবসময় ঘটছে বলেই কোনো অন্যায় গ্রহণযোগ্য হয়ে যায় না।

নির্যাতন IS নির্যাতন—regardless of কারা এটা করছে, কোথায় ঘটছে, কোন প্রভাবে করছে, কিংবা কোন ঐতিহ্যের দোহাই দেওয়া হচ্ছে, তাতে কিছুই যায় আসে না। লক্ষণ চিনুন, ভুল অজুহাত ভুলে নিজের সীমা রক্ষা করুন।

কিন্তু একটা বিষয় খুব স্পষ্টভাবে জানা দরকার: সামাজিক নিয়ম, যুগ যুগ ধরে চলা ঐতিহ্য কিংবা সংস্কৃতির অজুহাত দেখিয়ে কখনোই নিষ্ঠুরতাকে সঠিক প্রমাণ করা যায় না। চারপাশে সবসময় ঘটছে বলেই কোনো অন্যায় গ্রহণযোগ্য হয়ে যায় না।

নির্যাতন মানেই নির্যাতন—কারা এটা করছে, কোথায় ঘটছে, কোন প্রভাবে করছে, কিংবা কোন ঐতিহ্যের দোহাই দেওয়া হচ্ছে, তাতে কিছুই যায় আসে না। লক্ষণ চিনুন, ভুল অজুহাত ভুলে নিজের সীমা রক্ষা করুন।

I started writing this website for a pretty simple reason: I enjoy the work, and I wanted to help people similar to me. That was it. I wasn’t thinking about followers, numbers, or building some giant audience. Helping a single soul at a time was the target. If one person reads something here and thinks, Oh. That’s what I’ve been feeling, then this website has done what I wanted it to do.

Then a friend saw what I was working on and told me, “You have something here.” And then came the perfectly reasonable suggestion: “You should open a TikTok.” It made sense. People are on TikTok. Short videos reach people. If the point is to help people, logically, I should probably go where the people are. There was only one small problem: I really, really did not want to make TikToks. But I trusted my friend, and the suggestion made sense, so I pushed through anyway. I spent half the day trying to figure out how to make one video that would actually be useful.

By 3 p.m., I wanted to throw up. Four hours. I had recorded some audio and made one slide-style video. Yes. One video.

And this is where my brain did the thing. It did not think, “Huh. Maybe video just isn’t your medium.” No. Obviously, the reasonable conclusion was that I was terrible at this. The video was bad. It had taken me forever. People do this every day. People make ten of these. People monetize this. Why had it taken me four hours to make one? Intellectually, I knew those comparisons were not fair. But they were still the thoughts going through my head as I felt myself becoming smaller and smaller in my own eyes.

I wasn’t just tired anymore. I had entered that horrible loop where being tired becomes evidence that you’re incapable. And because the task looked simple, I couldn’t even give myself permission to be tired from it.

The Four Hours Weren’t Just Four Hours

There was another part bothering me: my son. Usually, I spend very routine-filled and engaging time with him. Any writing, posting, or editing I do happens when I’m not doing those things with him. I write when I’m half-awake at night or when I wake up ten minutes earlier than everyone else. I research and make visuals while I’m on the potty. And so on. You get the picture. My writing usually finds its way into the weird little unused corners of my day.

But this time, I had spent four daytime hours staring at a screen, trying to force myself through something I didn’t even enjoy. Meanwhile, my son had discovered the very convenient logic of: Mum is on a device, so I am allowed as well. Fair enough, honestly.

But now I wasn’t only thinking about how bad the video was. I was also thinking about the time I had missed with him, which gave my brain even more material: You wasted four hours. You made one bad video. You ignored your normal routine. Other people can do this easily. Why can’t you? The loop kept feeding itself. And the strange thing was that I still couldn’t understand why I felt so completely wiped out.

The Price of a Task Isn’t Universal

I needed my husband to come home and point out the obvious. He reminded me of Kabbo’s Energy Theory. The idea is simple: you wake up with a limited amount of energy, and everything you do costs some of it. But I think I sometimes make the mistake of assuming that the task itself determines the price.

It doesn’t. My relationship with the task changes the price. Something that costs another person one Kabbo token might cost me five. Or something that looks like one task from the outside might actually contain five separate points of effort for my brain. That does not mean the task magically became five times more difficult. It does not mean I am five times less capable. It simply costs me more. The disinterest matters. The discomfort matters. Having to force myself to stay with something my brain desperately wants to leave matters. Having to figure out an unfamiliar medium matters. All those little points of friction add up.

So while I was sitting there thinking, It’s ONE VIDEO. Why am I like this? my energy account was apparently responding: You have insufficient funds. And still, I kept swiping the card.

Was This Burnout, Overload, or Just Exhaustion?

I want to be careful here because I don’t actually know what label I would put on that afternoon. Was it burnout? Probably not autistic burnout in the bigger, longer-term sense people usually mean when they use that term. Was it overload? An energy crash? Was I simply completely drained from doing something that required far more effort than I had realized?

Maybe. But that is also kind of the point. I didn’t know. I only knew that something supposedly simple had flattened me. Because I didn’t understand why, my brain filled in the blank with: You must just be bad at this.

That can be especially confusing when you’re autistic—or when you’re undiagnosed and do not yet have a framework for understanding why certain things appear to cost you so much more than they cost everybody else. You look around and see other people doing the thing. They seem fine. So instead of questioning the energy cost, you question your capability. But these are not the same sentence: “This costs me a lot of energy.” “I am incapable of doing this.” I apparently need to write that down somewhere. Possibly on my forehead.

The rest of my day made it fairly obvious that I had spent more than I had available. I lay on the floor. I watched Haunted Hotel. I spent time lying beside my son while he carried on with his usual shenanigans. That was basically the level of functioning available: Floor. Cartoon. Child nearby. Existing.

I slept for half the night, woke up to pee at around 2:30 a.m., and only then felt like I had returned to roughly the state I had been in that morning. Yes, there is something slightly ridiculous about having a personal revelation about energy management at 2:30 in the morning after getting up to pee. But here we are.

The Loop Scared Me More Than the Exhaustion

The exhaustion itself wasn’t even the worst part. It was how quickly I turned it against myself. Something drained me. I didn’t understand why. Instead of becoming curious about what had happened, I immediately began collecting evidence for the prosecution: See? You’re slow. See? You can’t do basic things. See? Other people manage this. See? You’re not as capable as you thought. Once that loop begins, every new thought somehow becomes supporting evidence.

I don’t think I’m alone in doing this, especially if you have spent a long time not understanding your own needs. If you don’t know that your brain might be spending five energy tokens where somebody else spends one, then five-token exhaustion after a “one-token task” makes absolutely no sense. So you look for another explanation. Unfortunately, Maybe I’m just useless is always sitting there, ready and available.

Maybe the Answer Isn’t Always “Try Harder”

I realized something embarrassingly simple from all of this: I don’t actually have to make TikToks. That’s it. That is the revelation. My friend didn’t pressure me. They saw something I was enjoying, thought it could reach more people, and gave me a perfectly reasonable suggestion. I turned that suggestion into a requirement.

Somewhere between You could try TikTok and opening the app, my brain quietly changed it into: If you are serious about helping people, you should be able to do this. Then: If everyone else can do this, you should be able to do this. And finally: If you can’t do this easily, there must be something wrong with you.

Nobody else put me in that box. I climbed into it myself and then became upset that the box was uncomfortable—which, now that I write it out, seems less than ideal. I don’t think the lesson is never do anything you dislike. Life would become fairly complicated. Sometimes we have to do boring things. Sometimes difficult things are worth learning. Sometimes discomfort is part of growing.

But there is a difference between challenging yourself and repeatedly forcing yourself into a shape that doesn’t fit—then punishing yourself when maintaining that shape exhausts you. That is what I want to become better at noticing.

If something “simple” is costing me an absurd amount of energy, perhaps my first question does not need to be What is wrong with me? Maybe it can be: What is making this so expensive for me? Is it unfamiliar or sensory? Is there too much switching involved? Am I uninterested? Am I trying to work in a way that fights how my brain naturally works? Am I already tired? Do I actually want to do this?

And the slightly terrifying final question: Do I even need to? Sometimes, the answer might simply be no. So no, I don’t think I’m going to force myself to become a TikTok person right now. Maybe one day I’ll find a way of making videos that works for me. Maybe I won’t.

But I already know something that does work. Apparently, I will happily wake up at 2:30 in the morning, go pee, come back, and start writing an article about why making one video destroyed me. This? This I can do.

Perhaps the point isn’t to find whatever everybody else is doing and teach myself to tolerate it. Perhaps it is to notice the things that allow me to do meaningful work without constantly fighting myself. And if you’re reading this because you have had one of those days—when something ridiculously “easy” drained you and you immediately started wondering whether you were lazy, incapable, dramatic, or somehow worse at being a person than everyone else—maybe don’t use the exhaustion as evidence against yourself just yet.

Get curious about the cost first. You might not be failing at a simple task. It might simply not be a simple task for you. Apparently, that is something I needed my husband, four miserable hours, one mediocre video, half a night’s sleep, and a 2:30 a.m. pee to figure out. Hopefully, it saves at least one of you the trouble.

Let’s say you normally wake up with ten energy. Every individual thing you have to do costs one energy. Getting dressed costs one. Eating breakfast costs one. Going to school or work costs one. Taking a shower costs one—or perhaps several, depending on how many separate tasks your brain thinks a shower contains or what your brain considers one task.

Simple enough, right? One task = one energy.

But you do not necessarily wake up with the same amount every morning. Some days you have a little more energy, and some days you have less. It depends on how well you slept, how stressed you are, whether you are sick, and what happened the day before.

Maybe your usual amount is ten, but you wake up with eight because you had a terrible night’s sleep. Maybe you wake up with eleven because you had a nice massage, slept well, and actually relaxed the day before. On average, though, your energy regeneration remains more or less the same.

Someone who generally wakes up with around ten energy will not usually wake up with only two unless something significant has happened—illness, crisis, prolonged stress, or severe exhaustion. In the same way, someone whose usual amount is six will not suddenly begin waking up with ten every day simply because other people expect them to. That six is not laziness. It is their actual available energy.

What Kabbo’s model looks like

Use the buttons to see how sleep, saving, borrowing, and repeated overload affect the following days.

Saving energy for later

According to Kabbo, sometimes you can save an energy.

If you wake up with ten energy but only use nine, perhaps that extra one remains available for later. It becomes a small reserve—something you can use on another task or carry into the next day.

That explains why rest is not necessarily “doing nothing.” Sometimes rest is how you stop yourself from spending the last energy you have. It may even allow you to save something for tomorrow.

Borrowing from tomorrow

The model also works the other way: you can borrow energy from the future.

Suppose you wake up with ten energy, but there is a special event that requires twelve. Maybe it is a party, a family gathering, a school event, an appointment, or something else you cannot avoid. You can still do it. You can use twelve energy today.

But the extra two do not appear from nowhere. You borrowed them from tomorrow. So instead of waking up with your usual ten the next morning, you may wake up with eight. That day, you will need more rest or fewer tasks because part of its energy has already been spent.

We do this all the time. We stay up late to finish something. We push ourselves through an event. We socialize long after we have stopped having the energy for it. We tell ourselves, “I’ll rest tomorrow.” And sometimes that works—if tomorrow is actually allowed to be a day of rest. The problem begins when tomorrow arrives and expects just as much from us as yesterday did.

Kabbo’s theory and Spoon Theory

When Kabbo explained this, I realized that his theory is extremely similar to—actually, almost exactly like—Spoon Theory.

Writer Christine Miserandino originally used spoons to explain what it was like to live with lupus. Each spoon represented a limited unit of energy, and every daily activity required giving one or more away. The point was that people living with chronic illness often have to consciously budget energy for tasks other people can do without thinking about the cost. The concept has since become widely used to describe limited and unpredictable energy.

Kabbo uses energy instead of spoons, but the core idea is the same:

• You have a limited amount.
• Every task has a cost.
• Your starting amount can change.
• And spending more than you have comes with consequences.

So where does burnout fit?

Being tired is reaching zero at the end of one day. Burnout is repeatedly reaching zero, continuing anyway, and borrowing from a future that is running out of energy to lend you.

Imagine waking up on Monday with ten energy while your day requires twelve. You borrow two from Tuesday. On Tuesday, you wake up with eight—but the day still demands eleven. Now you borrow three more. Wednesday begins with even less energy, but the number of tasks has not changed. You keep borrowing because there is work, school, parenting, cleaning, appointments, sensory overload, social expectations, and all the small tasks no one else counts as tasks.

Eventually, you are no longer borrowing one or two energy for a special occasion. You are operating in a constant deficit. That is when the system starts to collapse.

Tasks you could previously do may become extremely difficult. Your tolerance for noise, people, decisions, and unexpected changes may become much lower. Resting for one night may no longer restore your usual amount.

Research describes autistic burnout as prolonged exhaustion, reduced tolerance for sensory input, and a loss of previously available skills or functioning. It can happen when life’s demands repeatedly exceed someone’s abilities without enough support or relief. That makes Kabbo’s energy debt a useful metaphor, even though it is not a literal medical calculation.

Burnout does not mean that someone’s energy permanently becomes two. It also does not mean that eight days of rest will automatically restore eight missing energy. Bodies are unfortunately not that mathematically convenient.

Recovery can be slow and uneven. It may require reducing demands, getting genuine support, resting without guilt, changing expectations, and no longer performing “normal” at a cost the person cannot sustain. In Kabbo’s language, burnout is what happens when tomorrow is already bankrupt.

Why this model matters

What I like about Kabbo’s theory is that it removes morality from energy.

Having six energy instead of ten does not make someone lazy. Needing two energy for a task that costs someone else one does not make them dramatic. Refusing a task because you know you cannot afford it does not mean you are not trying. And completing everything today does not always mean you managed your energy well. Sometimes it only means you stole enough energy from tomorrow to make today look successful.

It seemed a little convoluted when I started writing it at 11:43 p.m. But I assure you, it makes sense. Actually, the more I think about it, the more I wonder whether the rest of us have been making energy unnecessarily complicated.

Kabbo’s version is simple:

• You wake up with what you have.
• Everything costs something.
• You can occasionally save.
• You can occasionally borrow.
• But if you keep borrowing from tomorrow, eventually tomorrow will have nothing left to give.

ধরুন, একটি সাধারণ দিনে আপনি 10 energy নিয়ে ওঠেন। সারাদিনে আপনাকে যতগুলো আলাদা কাজ করতে হবে, প্রতিটি কাজের জন্য 1 energy খরচ হবে। কাপড় পরতে 1 energy। Breakfast খেতে 1 energy। স্কুল বা কাজে যেতে 1 energy। গোসল করতে 1 energy—অথবা আপনার brain গোসলের পুরো process-টাকে কতগুলো আলাদা task হিসেবে দেখে, তার ওপর নির্ভর করে একের চেয়েও বেশি।

হিসাবটি সোজা: একটি task, একটি energy।

কিন্তু প্রতিদিন সকালে আপনি একই পরিমাণ energy নিয়ে উঠবেন, এমন কোনো কথা নেই। কোনো দিন একটু বেশি energy থাকে, কোনো দিন কম। আপনি কেমন ঘুমিয়েছেন, কতটা stress-এর মধ্যে আছেন, শরীর খারাপ কি না এবং আগের দিন কী করেছেন—এসবের ওপর আপনার সকালের energy depend করে।

হয়তো আপনার সাধারণ energy 10, কিন্তু রাতে খারাপ ঘুম হওয়ার কারণে সকালে 8 energy নিয়ে উঠলেন। আবার হয়তো আগের দিন একটি সুন্দর massage নিয়েছেন, ভালো ঘুমিয়েছেন এবং সত্যিই একটু relax করতে পেরেছেন—তাই পরদিন 11 energy নিয়ে উঠলেন। তবে গড় হিসাবে একজন মানুষের energy regeneration মোটামুটি একই baseline-এর কাছাকাছি থাকে।

যিনি সাধারণত 10 energy নিয়ে ওঠেন, বড় কিছু না ঘটলে তিনি হঠাৎ 2 energy নিয়ে উঠবেন না। অসুস্থতা, কোনো crisis, দীর্ঘদিনের stress অথবা ভয়াবহ exhaustion হলে আলাদা কথা। একইভাবে, যার সাধারণ energy 6, অন্য মানুষ তার কাছে বেশি আশা করছে বলেই সে প্রতিদিন হঠাৎ 10 energy নিয়ে উঠতে শুরু করবে না। তার 6 energy থাকা অলসতা নয়। ওই মুহূর্তে সেটিই তার কাছে থাকা actual energy।

কাব্বোর model-টি দেখতে কেমন

Sleep, saving, borrowing এবং repeated overload পরের দিনগুলোকে কীভাবে affect করে তা দেখতে button-গুলো ব্যবহার করুন।

Energy জমিয়ে রাখা

কাব্বোর মতে, কখনো কখনো আপনি একটি energy বাঁচিয়ে রাখতে পারেন।

আপনি যদি 10 energy নিয়ে দিন শুরু করেন, কিন্তু 9 energy খরচ করেন, তাহলে বাকি 1 energy হয়তো আপনার কাছে থেকে গেল। পরে অন্য কোনো task-এ সেটি use করতে পারেন অথবা পরের দিনের জন্য জমিয়ে রাখতে পারেন।

এই জায়গা থেকে বোঝা যায়, বিশ্রাম নেওয়া মানেই সব সময় “কিছু না করা” নয়। কখনো কখনো বিশ্রাম হলো নিজের শেষ energy-টুকু খরচ না করে বাঁচিয়ে রাখা। হয়তো সেই বিশ্রামের কারণেই আপনি আগামীকালের জন্য কিছু energy save করতে পারলেন।

আগামীকাল থেকে Energy ধার নেওয়া

এই model-টি উল্টো দিকেও কাজ করে। আপনি ভবিষ্যৎ থেকে energy ধার নিতে পারেন।

ধরুন, সকালে আপনি 10 energy নিয়ে উঠলেন, কিন্তু সেদিন একটি special event আছে। পুরো দিন সামলাতে আপনার 12 energy লাগবে। সেটি কোনো party হতে পারে। Family gathering, স্কুল event, appointment অথবা এমন কোনো কাজ হতে পারে যেটি আপনি এড়িয়ে যেতে পারবেন না। আপনি তারপরও কাজটি করতে পারবেন। সেদিন 12 energy spend করতে পারবেন।

কিন্তু অতিরিক্ত 2 energy কোনো জাদু দিয়ে তৈরি হয়নি। আপনি সেটি আগামীকাল থেকে ধার নিয়েছেন। তাই পরদিন নিজের সাধারণ 10 energy নিয়ে ওঠার বদলে হয়তো 8 energy নিয়ে উঠবেন। সেদিন আপনার বেশি বিশ্রাম অথবা কম task-এর প্রয়োজন হবে, কারণ ওই দিনের কিছু energy আপনি আগেই খরচ করে ফেলেছেন।

আমরা আসলে এই কাজটি সব সময়ই করি। কোনো কাজ শেষ করার জন্য রাত জাগি। Energy শেষ হয়ে যাওয়ার পরও কোনো event-এ থেকে যাই। Socialize করতে থাকি। শরীর আর brain থামতে বললেও নিজেদের ধাক্কা দিয়ে সামনে নিয়ে যাই। আর নিজেকে বলি, “কালকে rest নেব।” মাঝেমধ্যে এই system কাজ করে—যদি পরের দিনটিকে সত্যিই rest-এর দিন হতে দেওয়া হয়। সমস্যা শুরু হয় তখন, যখন আগামীকাল এসে গতকালের মতোই সমান পরিমাণ কাজ দাবি করে।

কাব্বোর Theory এবং Spoon Theory

কাব্বো যখন আমাকে তার theory-টি বোঝাল, তখন বুঝলাম এটি Spoon Theory-র সঙ্গে ভীষণ মিল। সত্যি বলতে, দুটো প্রায় একই theory।

রাইটার ক্রিস্টিন মিজেরানডিনো প্রথম spoon use করে বোঝানোর চেষ্টা করেছিলেন, লুপাস নিয়ে বেঁচে থাকা কেমন। প্রতিটি spoon একটি সীমিত energy unit-কে বোঝাত। দিনের প্রতিটি কাজের জন্য তাকে এক বা একাধিক spoon spent করতে হতো। এই theory-র মূল কথা হলো, chronic illness নিয়ে বেঁচে থাকা মানুষদের এমন অনেক সাধারণ task-এর জন্যও সচেতনভাবে energy হিসাব করতে হয়, যেগুলোর খরচ অন্য মানুষ হয়তো আলাদাভাবে খেয়ালও করে না। পরে সীমিত ও অনিশ্চিত energy বোঝানোর জন্য Spoon Theory ব্যাপকভাবে ব্যবহার করা শুরু হয়।

কাব্বো স্পুনের বদলে energy use করে, কিন্তু মূল idea-টি একই:

• আপনার কাছে সীমিত পরিমাণ energy আছে।
• প্রতিটি task-এর একটি খরচ আছে।
• প্রতিদিনের শুরুর পরিমাণ বদলে যেতে পারে।
• আর নিজের কাছে যতটুকু আছে, তার চেয়ে বেশি খরচ করলে তার একটি consequence আছে।

তাহলে Burnout এই Theory-তে কোথায় আসে?

একটি দিনের শেষে শূন্য energy-তে পৌঁছানো হলো ক্লান্ত হয়ে যাওয়া। কিন্তু burnout হলো প্রতিদিন শূন্যতে পৌঁছে যাওয়ার পরও কাজ চালিয়ে যাওয়া—এবং এমন একটি ভবিষ্যৎ থেকে বারবার energy ধার করা, যার কাছে ধার দেওয়ার মতো energy-ই ধীরে ধীরে শেষ হয়ে যাচ্ছে।

ধরুন, সোমবার সকালে আপনি 10 energy নিয়ে উঠলেন, কিন্তু সেদিনের task শেষ করতে 12 energy প্রয়োজন। আপনি মঙ্গলবার থেকে 2 energy ধার নিলেন। মঙ্গলবার আপনি 8 energy নিয়ে উঠলেন। কিন্তু সেদিনের কাজ শেষ করতে 11 energy দরকার। এবার আপনাকে আরও 3 energy ধার নিতে হলো। বুধবার আরও কম energy নিয়ে দিন শুরু হলো, কিন্তু আপনার task-এর সংখ্যা কমেনি।

কাজ আছে। স্কুল আছে। Parenting আছে। ঘর পরিষ্কার করতে হবে। Appointment আছে। Sensory overload আছে। Social expectation আছে। আর এমন অসংখ্য ছোট ছোট task আছে, যেগুলো অন্য মানুষ task হিসেবেই গোনে না। আপনি তারপরও ধার নিতে থাকেন।

একসময় special event-এর জন্য এক বা দুই energy ধার নেওয়ার বিষয়টি আর থাকে না। আপনি সব সময় একটি energy deficit-এর মধ্যে চলতে শুরু করেন। তখন পুরো system-টি ভেঙে পড়তে শুরু করে।

আগে যে task-গুলো করতে পারতেন, সেগুলোও অসম্ভব কঠিন মনে হতে পারে। শব্দ, মানুষ, সিদ্ধান্ত এবং হঠাৎ বদলে যাওয়া কোনো plan adapt করার ক্ষমতা কমে যেতে পারে। শুধু এক রাত ঘুমালেই হয়তো আর নিজের সাধারণ energy recharge হবে না।

Research-এ autistic burnout-কে দীর্ঘমেয়াদি exhaustion, sensory input সহ্য করার ক্ষমতা কমে যাওয়া এবং আগে ব্যবহার করতে পারা skill বা functioning হারিয়ে ফেলার অভিজ্ঞতা হিসেবে বর্ণনা করা হয়েছে। কারও জীবনের demand যখন বারবার তার সামর্থ্যকে ছাড়িয়ে যায় এবং সে পর্যাপ্ত support বা স্বস্তি পায় না, তখন autistic burnout হতে পারে। সেই অর্থে কাব্বোর energy debt একটি খুব কার্যকর metaphor—যদিও এটি কোনো আক্ষরিক medical হিসাব নয়।

Burnout মানেই কারও energy permanently 10 থেকে 2 হয়ে গেল, এমন নয়। আবার আট দিন rest নিলেই হারিয়ে যাওয়া 8 energy ফিরে আসবে, এমন হিসাবও করা যায় না। দুঃখজনকভাবে, মানুষের শরীর এত সুন্দরভাবে math মেনে চলে না।

Recovery slow হতে পারে। অসমান হতে পারে। মাঝে ভালো লাগার পর আবার খারাপ লাগতে পারে। Demand কমানো, সত্যিকারের support পাওয়া, guilt ছাড়া বিশ্রাম নেওয়া এবং সব সময় “নরমাল” দেখানোর চেষ্টা (masking) বন্ধ করার প্রয়োজন হতে পারে। কাব্বোর ভাষায়, burnout হলো এমন একটি অবস্থা, যখন আগামীকাল ইতিমধ্যেই bankrupt।

এই Model-টি কেন গুরুত্বপূর্ণ

কাব্বোর theory-র যে বিষয়টি আমার সবচেয়ে ভালো লাগে, তা হলো—এই theory energy থেকে morality সরিয়ে দেয়।

দশের বদলে 6 energy থাকা মানে কেউ অলস নয়। যে task-এ অন্য কারও 1 energy লাগে, সেটিতে আপনার 2 energy লাগা মানে আপনি ড্রামাটিক নন। কোনো task করার মতো energy আপনার কাছে নেই বলে সেটিকে না বলা মানে এই নয় যে আপনি চেষ্টা করছেন না। আবার আজকের সব কাজ শেষ করতে পেরেছেন মানেই যে আপনি নিজের energy well-manage করেছেন, সেটিও সত্যি নয়। কখনো কখনো এর অর্থ শুধু এটুকুই—আজকে সফল দেখানোর জন্য আপনি আগামীকালের কাছ থেকে যথেষ্ট energy চুরি করেছেন।

রাত ১১টা ৪৩ মিনিটে এটি লিখতে বসে পুরো বিষয়টি একটু convoluted মনে হচ্ছিল। কিন্তু আমি আপনাকে আশ্বস্ত করছি—এটি আসলেই অর্থবহ। বরং যত ভাবছি, তত মনে হচ্ছে energy-র বিষয়টি হয়তো আমরা বড়রাই অকারণে বেশি জটিল করে ফেলেছি।

কাব্বোর version খুব সোজা:

• আপনি যতটুকু energy নিয়ে ওঠেন, আপনার কাছে ততটুকুই আছে।
• প্রতিটি কাজের জন্য কিছু না কিছু খরচ হয়।
• মাঝেমধ্যে আপনি একটু save করতে পারেন।
• মাঝেমধ্যে আপনি একটু ধার নিতে পারেন।
• কিন্তু আপনি যদি আগামীকাল থেকে ধার নিতেই থাকেন, একসময় আগামীকালের কাছে দেওয়ার মতো আর কিছুই থাকবে না।

ধরুন, একটি সাধারণ দিনে আপনি দশ এনার্জি নিয়ে ওঠেন। সারাদিনে আপনাকে যতগুলো আলাদা কাজ করতে হবে, প্রতিটি কাজের জন্য এক এনার্জি খরচ হবে। কাপড় পরতে এক এনার্জি। ব্রেকফাস্ট খেতে এক এনার্জি। স্কুল বা কাজে যেতে এক এনার্জি। গোসল করতে এক এনার্জি—অথবা আপনার ব্রেইন গোসলের পুরো প্রসেসটাকে কতগুলো আলাদা টাস্ক হিসেবে দেখে, তার ওপর নির্ভর করে একের চেয়েও বেশি।

হিসাবটি সোজা: একটি টাস্ক, একটি এনার্জি।

কিন্তু প্রতিদিন সকালে আপনি একই পরিমাণ এনার্জি নিয়ে উঠবেন, এমন কোনো কথা নেই। কোনো দিন একটু বেশি এনার্জি থাকে, কোনো দিন কম। আপনি কেমন ঘুমিয়েছেন, কতটা স্ট্রেসের মধ্যে আছেন, শরীর খারাপ কি না এবং আগের দিন কী করেছেন—এসবের ওপর আপনার সকালের এনার্জি নির্ভর করে।

হয়তো আপনার সাধারণ এনার্জি দশ, কিন্তু রাতে খারাপ ঘুম হওয়ার কারণে সকালে আট এনার্জি নিয়ে উঠলেন। আবার হয়তো আগের দিন একটি সুন্দর ম্যাসাজ নিয়েছেন, ভালো ঘুমিয়েছেন এবং সত্যিই একটু রিল্যাক্স করতে পেরেছেন—তাই পরদিন এগারো এনার্জি নিয়ে উঠলেন। তবে গড় হিসাবে একজন মানুষের এনার্জি রিজেনারেশন মোটামুটি একই বেসলাইনের কাছাকাছি থাকে।

যিনি সাধারণত দশ এনার্জি নিয়ে ওঠেন, বড় কিছু না ঘটলে তিনি হঠাৎ দুই এনার্জি নিয়ে উঠবেন না। অসুস্থতা, কোনো ক্রাইসিস, দীর্ঘদিনের স্ট্রেস অথবা ভয়াবহ এক্সহস্টশন হলে আলাদা কথা। একইভাবে, যার সাধারণ এনার্জি ছয়, অন্য মানুষ তার কাছে বেশি আশা করছে বলেই সে প্রতিদিন হঠাৎ দশ এনার্জি নিয়ে উঠতে শুরু করবে না। তার ছয় এনার্জি থাকা অলসতা নয়। ওই মুহূর্তে সেটিই তার কাছে থাকা এনার্জি।

কাব্বোর মডেলটি দেখতে কেমন

ঘুম, এনার্জি জমিয়ে রাখা, ধার নেওয়া এবং বারবার ওভারলোড পরের দিনগুলোকে কীভাবে প্রভাবিত করে তা দেখতে বাটনগুলো ব্যবহার করুন।

এনার্জি জমিয়ে রাখা

কাব্বোর মতে, কখনো কখনো আপনি একটি এনার্জি বাঁচিয়ে রাখতে পারেন।

আপনি যদি দশ এনার্জি নিয়ে দিন শুরু করেন, কিন্তু নয় এনার্জি খরচ করেন, তাহলে বাকি এক এনার্জি হয়তো আপনার কাছে থেকে গেল। পরে অন্য কোনো টাস্কে সেটি ব্যবহার করতে পারেন অথবা পরের দিনের জন্য জমিয়ে রাখতে পারেন।

এই জায়গা থেকে বোঝা যায়, বিশ্রাম নেওয়া মানেই সব সময় “কিছু না করা” নয়। কখনো কখনো বিশ্রাম হলো নিজের শেষ এনার্জিটুকু খরচ না করে বাঁচিয়ে রাখা। হয়তো সেই বিশ্রামের কারণেই আপনি আগামীকালের জন্য কিছু এনার্জি জমাতে পারলেন।

আগামীকাল থেকে এনার্জি ধার নেওয়া

এই মডেলটি উল্টো দিকেও কাজ করে। আপনি ভবিষ্যৎ থেকে এনার্জি ধার নিতে পারেন।

ধরুন, সকালে আপনি দশ এনার্জি নিয়ে উঠলেন, কিন্তু সেদিন একটি স্পেশাল ইভেন্ট আছে। পুরো দিন সামলাতে আপনার বারো এনার্জি লাগবে। সেটি কোনো পার্টি হতে পারে। ফ্যামিলি গ্যাদারিং, স্কুল ইভেন্ট, অ্যাপয়েন্টমেন্ট অথবা এমন কোনো কাজ হতে পারে যেটি আপনি এড়িয়ে যেতে পারবেন না। আপনি তারপরও কাজটি করতে পারবেন। সেদিন বারো এনার্জি খরচ করতে পারবেন।

কিন্তু অতিরিক্ত দুই এনার্জি কোনো জাদু দিয়ে তৈরি হয়নি। আপনি সেটি আগামীকাল থেকে ধার নিয়েছেন। তাই পরদিন নিজের সাধারণ দশ এনার্জি নিয়ে ওঠার বদলে হয়তো আট এনার্জি নিয়ে উঠবেন। সেদিন আপনার বেশি বিশ্রাম অথবা কম টাস্কের প্রয়োজন হবে, কারণ ওই দিনের কিছু এনার্জি আপনি আগেই খরচ করে ফেলেছেন।

আমরা আসলে এই কাজটি সব সময়ই করি। কোনো কাজ শেষ করার জন্য রাত জাগি। এনার্জি শেষ হয়ে যাওয়ার পরও কোনো ইভেন্টে থেকে যাই। সোশ্যালাইজ করতে থাকি। শরীর আর ব্রেইন থামতে বললেও নিজেদের ধাক্কা দিয়ে সামনে নিয়ে যাই। আর নিজেকে বলি, “কালকে রেস্ট নেব।” মাঝেমধ্যে এই সিস্টেম কাজ করে—যদি পরের দিনটিকে সত্যিই রেস্টের দিন হতে দেওয়া হয়। সমস্যা শুরু হয় তখন, যখন আগামীকাল এসে গতকালের মতোই সমান পরিমাণ কাজ দাবি করে।

কাব্বোর থিওরি এবং স্পুন থিওরি

কাব্বো যখন আমাকে তার থিওরিটি বোঝাল, তখন বুঝলাম এটি স্পুন থিওরির সঙ্গে ভীষণ মিল। সত্যি বলতে, দুটো প্রায় একই থিওরি।

রাইটার ক্রিস্টিন মিজেরানডিনো প্রথম স্পুন ব্যবহার করে বোঝানোর চেষ্টা করেছিলেন, লুপাস নিয়ে বেঁচে থাকা কেমন। প্রতিটি স্পুন একটি সীমিত এনার্জি ইউনিটকে বোঝাত। দিনের প্রতিটি কাজের জন্য তাকে এক বা একাধিক স্পুন খরচ করতে হতো। এই থিওরির মূল কথা হলো, ক্রনিক ইলনেস নিয়ে বেঁচে থাকা মানুষদের এমন অনেক সাধারণ টাস্কের জন্যও সচেতনভাবে এনার্জি হিসাব করতে হয়, যেগুলোর খরচ অন্য মানুষ হয়তো আলাদাভাবে খেয়ালও করে না। পরে সীমিত ও অনিশ্চিত এনার্জি বোঝানোর জন্য স্পুন থিওরি ব্যাপকভাবে ব্যবহার করা শুরু হয়।

কাব্বো স্পুনের বদলে এনার্জি ব্যবহার করে, কিন্তু মূল আইডিয়াটি একই:

• আপনার কাছে সীমিত পরিমাণ এনার্জি আছে।
• প্রতিটি টাস্কের একটি খরচ আছে।
• প্রতিদিনের শুরুর পরিমাণ বদলে যেতে পারে।
• আর নিজের কাছে যতটুকু আছে, তার চেয়ে বেশি খরচ করলে তার একটি কনসিকোয়েন্স আছে।

তাহলে বার্নআউট এই থিওরিতে কোথায় আসে?

একটি দিনের শেষে শূন্য এনার্জিতে পৌঁছানো হলো ক্লান্ত হয়ে যাওয়া। কিন্তু বার্নআউট হলো প্রতিদিন শূন্যতে পৌঁছে যাওয়ার পরও কাজ চালিয়ে যাওয়া—এবং এমন একটি ভবিষ্যৎ থেকে বারবার এনার্জি ধার করা, যার কাছে ধার দেওয়ার মতো এনার্জিই ধীরে ধীরে শেষ হয়ে যাচ্ছে।

ধরুন, সোমবার সকালে আপনি দশ এনার্জি নিয়ে উঠলেন, কিন্তু সেদিনের টাস্ক শেষ করতে বারো এনার্জি প্রয়োজন। আপনি মঙ্গলবার থেকে দুই এনার্জি ধার নিলেন। মঙ্গলবার আপনি আট এনার্জি নিয়ে উঠলেন। কিন্তু সেদিনের কাজ শেষ করতে এগারো এনার্জি দরকার। এবার আপনাকে আরও তিন এনার্জি ধার নিতে হলো। বুধবার আরও কম এনার্জি নিয়ে দিন শুরু হলো, কিন্তু আপনার টাস্কের সংখ্যা কমেনি।

কাজ আছে। স্কুল আছে। প্যারেন্টিং আছে। ঘর পরিষ্কার করতে হবে। অ্যাপয়েন্টমেন্ট আছে। সেন্সরি ওভারলোড আছে। সোশ্যাল এক্সপেকটেশন আছে। আর এমন অসংখ্য ছোট ছোট টাস্ক আছে, যেগুলো অন্য মানুষ টাস্ক হিসেবেই গোনে না। আপনি তারপরও ধার নিতে থাকেন।

একসময় স্পেশাল ইভেন্টের জন্য এক বা দুই এনার্জি ধার নেওয়ার বিষয়টি আর থাকে না। আপনি সব সময় একটি এনার্জি ডেফিসিটের মধ্যে চলতে শুরু করেন। তখন পুরো সিস্টেমটি ভেঙে পড়তে শুরু করে।

আগে যে টাস্কগুলো করতে পারতেন, সেগুলোও অসম্ভব কঠিন মনে হতে পারে। শব্দ, মানুষ, সিদ্ধান্ত এবং হঠাৎ বদলে যাওয়া কোনো প্ল্যান সহ্য করার ক্ষমতা কমে যেতে পারে। শুধু এক রাত ঘুমালেই হয়তো আর নিজের সাধারণ এনার্জি ফিরে পাবেন না।

রিসার্চে অটিস্টিক বার্নআউটকে দীর্ঘমেয়াদি এক্সহস্টশন, সেন্সরি ইনপুট সহ্য করার ক্ষমতা কমে যাওয়া এবং আগে ব্যবহার করতে পারা স্কিল বা ফাংশন হারিয়ে ফেলার অভিজ্ঞতা হিসেবে বর্ণনা করা হয়েছে। কারও জীবনের ডিমান্ড যখন বারবার তার সামর্থ্যকে ছাড়িয়ে যায় এবং সে পর্যাপ্ত সাপোর্ট বা স্বস্তি পায় না, তখন অটিস্টিক বার্নআউট হতে পারে। সেই অর্থে কাব্বোর এনার্জি ডেট একটি খুব কার্যকর মেটাফর—যদিও এটি কোনো আক্ষরিক মেডিক্যাল হিসাব নয়।

বার্নআউট মানেই কারও এনার্জি স্থায়ীভাবে দশ থেকে দুই হয়ে গেল, এমন নয়। আবার আট দিন রেস্ট নিলেই হারিয়ে যাওয়া আট এনার্জি ফিরে আসবে, এমন হিসাবও করা যায় না। দুঃখজনকভাবে, মানুষের শরীর এত সুন্দরভাবে ম্যাথ মেনে চলে না।

রিকভারি ধীরে হতে পারে। অসমান হতে পারে। মাঝে ভালো লাগার পর আবার খারাপ লাগতে পারে। ডিমান্ড কমানো, সত্যিকারের সাপোর্ট পাওয়া, গিল্ট ছাড়া বিশ্রাম নেওয়া এবং সব সময় “নরমাল” দেখানোর চেষ্টা বন্ধ করার প্রয়োজন হতে পারে। কাব্বোর ভাষায়, বার্নআউট হলো এমন একটি অবস্থা, যখন আগামীকাল ইতিমধ্যেই ব্যাঙ্করাপ্ট।

এই মডেলটি কেন গুরুত্বপূর্ণ

কাব্বোর থিওরির যে বিষয়টি আমার সবচেয়ে ভালো লাগে, তা হলো—এই থিওরি এনার্জি থেকে মরালিটি সরিয়ে দেয়।

দশের বদলে ছয় এনার্জি থাকা মানে কেউ অলস নয়। যে টাস্কে অন্য কারও এক এনার্জি লাগে, সেটিতে আপনার দুই এনার্জি লাগা মানে আপনি ড্রামাটিক নন। কোনো টাস্ক করার মতো এনার্জি আপনার কাছে নেই বলে সেটিকে না বলা মানে এই নয় যে আপনি চেষ্টা করছেন না। আবার আজকের সব কাজ শেষ করতে পেরেছেন মানেই যে আপনি নিজের এনার্জি ভালোভাবে ম্যানেজ করেছেন, সেটিও সত্যি নয়। কখনো কখনো এর অর্থ শুধু এটুকুই—আজকে সফল দেখানোর জন্য আপনি আগামীকালের কাছ থেকে যথেষ্ট এনার্জি চুরি করেছেন।

রাত ১১টা ৪৩ মিনিটে এটি লিখতে বসে পুরো বিষয়টি একটু কনভলিউটেড মনে হচ্ছিল। কিন্তু আমি আপনাকে আশ্বস্ত করছি—এটি আসলেই অর্থবহ। বরং যত ভাবছি, তত মনে হচ্ছে এনার্জির বিষয়টি হয়তো আমরা বড়রাই অকারণে বেশি জটিল করে ফেলেছি।

কাব্বোর ভার্সন খুব সোজা:

• আপনি যতটুকু এনার্জি নিয়ে ওঠেন, আপনার কাছে ততটুকুই আছে।
• প্রতিটি কাজের জন্য কিছু না কিছু খরচ হয়।
• মাঝেমধ্যে আপনি একটু জমাতে পারেন।
• মাঝেমধ্যে আপনি একটু ধার নিতে পারেন।
• কিন্তু আপনি যদি আগামীকাল থেকে ধার নিতেই থাকেন, একসময় আগামীকালের কাছে দেওয়ার মতো আর কিছুই থাকবে না।

When I started this project, I told myself I would write one piece a day.

That isn’t much, right?

And yet, I failed on Day 2.

The pressure I felt simply because I had set this goal for myself was unbearable. No one else knew about it. No one else saw me fail. Still, the disappointment I felt when I fell asleep and couldn’t stay awake to write became enormous inside my head.

So I woke up early the next morning, sat beside my sleeping son, and started typing on my phone.

He is a light sleeper, and the sound of a keyboard would wake him. During those brief moments when his eyes open in the morning, he also needs to see me beside him. If I’m not there, he wakes up fully and comes looking for me.

My priority was to keep him asleep while still trying to accomplish what I had set out to do.

Sitting there quietly beside him, I thought about the way he experiences enormous emotions over things that appear small to everyone else. Not being able to return to a video he was watching. Not being able to draw the perfect line.

In those moments, his feelings are huge.

People around us don’t understand what the big deal is. But I have always understood that part of him. His feelings are like mine: big, difficult to explain, and overwhelming. The why and the how behind them are not always available to either of us.

But understanding his feelings does not mean I always know how to support him.

I don’t.

I am still fumbling my way through it, adding my own disappointment and cascading emotions to failures I never expected from myself.

Where did this expectation of perfection come from?

Mine came, at least partly, from my parents. They gave me the “killer eyes” whenever I did something they considered out of line or inappropriate.

But where did my child learn it?

Do I unknowingly do the same thing to him? Maybe I don’t give him the exact killer eyes, but does he still feel the heavy weight of my expectations?

To be honest, I don’t know.

Maybe that is why psychology fascinates me so much. I want to understand what exists underneath our behavior—what is inherited, what is learned, and what we pass on without realizing it.

Sometimes I think that if I had been given the opportunity to study psychology, I might have done something better with my life. Maybe I wouldn’t feel like such a failure as an engineer or scientist.

I recognize the self-deprecation the moment the thought enters my mind, but sometimes I can’t stop it.

I spent most of my life fighting the idea that I was incapable. To prove otherwise, I chose the hardest subject I could imagine—physics—and stuck with it. I earned my bachelor’s degree in physics, completed a master’s degree in engineering, and became a machine-learning engineer.

Then I discovered that I didn’t really like it.

Maybe I did not choose my path as freely as I once believed.

My parents taught me that being feminine was inherently bad. If I had not grown up with that idea, perhaps I would have felt safe choosing my own subject and my own path.

When we were children, my father burned all our dolls because they were “useless.”

My mother once found a recording of me speaking in different voices, pretending to have a conversation between two women. She made fun of me for it.

Whenever she thought we were spending too much time looking in the mirror, she grabbed our hair and roughly chopped it off.

Even now, we are taunted and shamed for any amount of self-care—whether it is using conditioner or plucking our eyebrows.

Growing up in that environment conditions you to avoid anything considered feminine.

It creates a deep fear of being ridiculed for standing in front of a mirror a little too long. It teaches you not to grow long, flowing hair because someone else might decide they have the right to chop it off.

Boy, I have issues, don’t I?

My mother constantly told people—in front of us—that her daughters were her “sons,” as though being a daughter were something shameful.

So we worked hard to become son-like.

Meanwhile, our internal daughters remained trapped somewhere deep inside us. They are parts of ourselves we are still trying to find.

These survival mechanisms are now so deeply integrated into my life that when my husband tells me I look pretty, I don’t believe him. I assume he is simply being nice.

When my son says I look nice, I tell myself it is only because he is a gentle child.

He is a gentle child. That part is true.

But it is also true that I am incapable of accepting a compliment. I automatically put myself down, carrying an entire knot of complicated feelings about my appearance and my worth.

I am sure my sisters have similar feelings, but they don’t talk about them. Both of them are tougher than I am.

I am the “frou-frou” one.

Always too emotional. Always the soft one. The fragile one.

For most of my life, I have carried a little shame about that. But now that I am saying it out loud, I have to wonder why.

Why should softness be something to hide?

What is the point of writing all of this?

Am I simply putting my damage on display because I am finally becoming confident in my own voice? Am I learning not to care whether someone considers this too emotional, too feminine, or too “frou-frou”?

Or does this need to have a better point?

Even as I ask that question, I catch myself devaluing my own reason for writing. I am doing it again. I am stuck inside the same loop.

Maybe that is the point.

To catch myself in the act.

To look closely enough to discover something about myself. To understand that my sensitivity is not a failure. It may be the very thing that allows me to recognize what my son is feeling when his world becomes too big.

Maybe the next time my mother looks down on me for spending one minute drawing a line over my eye, I will hold my head up. Maybe I will choose not to carry her judgment inside me. Maybe I will choose grace instead of disappointment.

And perhaps that will help me become a better mother. Perhaps it will help me break the cycle of expectation before I pass all of it on.

Am I naive enough to hope that I can leave my son with no scars?

Probably.

No parent is given that promise.

But perhaps the attempt still matters. If I keep noticing, questioning, apologizing, and repairing, maybe I can leave him with fewer scars.

Maybe I can leave impressions that do not have to become wounds.

“Everyone knows you remember things wrong.”

That sentence is particularly effective. Because what are you supposed to do when several people apparently agree that your memory is wrong? You begin to doubt yourself. Maybe I did misunderstand. Maybe I remembered it incorrectly. Maybe I exaggerated it inside my head. Maybe I am blaming someone for a situation I created entirely on my own. And before I know it, I am apologizing.

What Gaslighting Actually Is

Gaslighting is another one of those words that has become so common that it is in danger of meaning everything—and therefore nothing. Someone remembers an event differently? Gaslighting. Someone disagrees with you? Gaslighting. Someone becomes defensive or says something insensitive? Gaslighting. But not every disagreement, faulty memory, defensive response, or dismissive sentence is gaslighting. That distinction matters—not because we need to protect people who cause harm, but because we need to understand the harm clearly. Gaslighting is a repeated pattern of emotional manipulation in which one person denies, minimizes, distorts, or rewrites another person’s experiences until that person begins to distrust their own memory, feelings, judgment, or perception of reality. It is not simply:

“I remember it differently.”

It becomes something closer to:

“That never happened. You always remember things wrong. You’re too sensitive. Everyone else agrees with me.”

The goal—or, at the very least, the function—of this pattern is power. One person gradually becomes the authority on what is real, while the other person becomes increasingly dependent on that version of reality. The National Domestic Violence Hotline describes gaslighting as a form of emotional abuse that can cause someone to question their feelings, instincts, and sanity. Over time, the person experiencing it may become confused, anxious, isolated, and increasingly reliant on the abusive person to define what happened. That is what makes gaslighting so damaging. It does not only challenge what you remember. It teaches you that you are not qualified to remember your own life.

What Gaslighting Can Sound Like

Some phrases frequently associated with gaslighting include:

• “That never happened.”
• “You’re imagining things.”
• “You always remember everything wrong.”
• “Everyone else remembers it the way I do.”
• “You’re too sensitive.”
• “You’re being dramatic.”
• “I was only joking. Can’t you take a joke?”
• “Nobody else has a problem with me.”
• “You’re trying to make me look like the bad person.”
• “You’re confused again.”
• “It’s all in your head.”

But the words alone are not proof. Someone saying, “I don’t remember that,” once is not automatically gaslighting. Two people can honestly remember the same event differently. Human memory is imperfect—including mine. A person can also say something dismissive, recognize the harm, apologize, and change their behaviour without establishing a pattern of manipulation. The important questions are:

• Does this keep happening?
• Are the facts rewritten only when accountability becomes uncomfortable?
• Are other people’s opinions brought in to outvote your memory?
• Are your feelings used as evidence that you are irrational?
• Does the person show curiosity, or only certainty?
• Can they accept responsibility?
• Do you leave the conversation understanding more—or trusting yourself less?

What It Did to Me

I often felt guilty for blaming someone else. Then I felt angry at myself for creating the entire situation inside my own head. I apologized too much, sometimes without fully understanding what I was apologizing for. That becomes particularly difficult when someone is accusing you of something you cannot remember—or when you remember the same event differently. How do you defend yourself against an incident you cannot retrieve clearly? How do you remain confident when someone else appears completely certain? I checked and rechecked old conversations. I reread messages, trying to understand how my words could have been interpreted differently. I searched for the point where my thinking had gone wrong.

There is nothing inherently wrong with examining your behaviour. We should all be willing to ask whether we have misunderstood or hurt someone. But I was not checking only to understand. I was checking because I had stopped trusting myself. The original issue would disappear. Instead of discussing what someone else had done, I would end up defending whether I was reasonable enough, calm enough, intelligent enough, or mentally reliable enough to speak about it. And if I could not prove every detail perfectly, I assumed that I must be the problem.

The Moment I Recognized the Pattern

It took somewhere around my thirtieth session with my current therapist before I began to see it. This was not happening randomly. Certain people used the same strategy repeatedly—and usually when they felt cornered in an argument. When the conversation approached something they did not want to acknowledge, the subject changed. Suddenly, we were no longer discussing what they had said or done. We were discussing my memory. My tone. My sensitivity. My tendency to misunderstand. The argument was no longer about their behaviour. The argument was about whether I was mentally qualified to have an argument at all. Once I saw the pattern, I could not unsee it.

That did not mean every disagreement with those people was gaslighting. It did not mean my memory became perfect or that I could never be wrong. It meant I finally understood that my uncertainty was being used as an exit door. Whenever accountability entered the room, someone escaped through my self-doubt.

Why Some Autistic Adults May Miss Gaslighting

Autistic people are not inherently naïve, incapable, or unable to understand relationships. The problem is not that an autistic person’s mind is defective. The problem is that manipulative people may exploit differences in communication, processing, support needs, and social experience. Many autistic adults—particularly those who were diagnosed late or remain undiagnosed—have spent a lifetime being corrected. You misunderstood the joke. You reacted too strongly. You took that too literally. That noise is not painful. That fabric does not hurt. Stop making a scene. Everyone else is fine. When someone has repeatedly been told that their interpretation of their own experiences is wrong, it may become difficult to recognize when “correction” has crossed into control.

Mixed messages and hidden intentions may also be difficult to decode. If you tend to assume that people mean what they say, it may not occur to you that someone is deliberately changing their story, denying a pattern, or using your trust against you. Overload, shutdown, burnout, or difficulty communicating under pressure may create another opening for manipulation. Someone might say:

“You were too emotional to remember.”

“You shut down, so clearly you agreed.”

None of those statements makes the autistic person’s reality less valid. Research based on autistic adults’ own accounts has found that some participants had difficulty identifying manipulative intentions, recognizing unhealthy boundaries, or refusing unreasonable demands. Many described doubting their judgment after repeated interpersonal victimization. These findings do not mean autistic people are responsible for being harmed. They demonstrate why accessible information, supported self-advocacy, and clear examples of healthy relationships matter. Read the Autism in Adulthood study.

Research has also found higher reported rates of several forms of violence and repeated victimization among autistic adults than among non-autistic comparison groups. The lesson is not that autistic people are “easy targets.” The lesson is that abusers, inaccessible systems, stigma, isolation, and the dismissal of autistic communication can create dangerous conditions. Read the cross-sectional victimization study. Needing support does not make your memory disposable. Processing something differently does not make your experience imaginary. Communicating slowly does not give someone else ownership of your reality.

Disagreement Is Not Gaslighting

I have disagreed with my husband and still felt safe. I have disagreed with a few close friends and still felt respected. Those conversations may be uncomfortable. Sometimes one of us becomes frustrated. Sometimes we need time before we can speak clearly. But disagreement does not automatically become disrespect. That is the difference. Two people can experience the same situation differently. They may agree on what happened but disagree about why it happened, what it meant, or what should happen next. In a healthy disagreement, both people are still allowed into the room. One person might say:

“I remember you raising your voice.”

The other might respond:

“I remember speaking firmly, but I didn’t realize it sounded like shouting. I believe that it felt frightening to you.”

They have not agreed on every detail. But neither person has been erased. Healthy disagreement usually leaves room for:

• Different interpretations.
• Shared or verifiable facts.
• Questions and clarification.
• Respect for emotional impact.
• Accountability.
• Compromise, problem-solving, or repair.

Gaslighting does something different. It repeatedly denies events, rewrites facts, shifts blame, attacks credibility, or creates confusion to avoid accountability and maintain control. A healthy disagreement may still feel awful. You may cry. You may become angry. You may need time apart. Discomfort by itself does not prove gaslighting. The difference is not whether the conversation feels good. The difference is whether you are still permitted to exist inside it. Your feelings do not prove every factual claim you make. But factual disagreement does not make your feelings unreal. You do not have to agree with someone to respect their reality.

The Uncomfortable Part: I Can Do Harm Too

I do not want to write this as if gaslighting is something only other people do. I have caught myself minimizing the effort my husband puts into connecting with my family. Once I recognized what I was doing, I tried to remedy it. There have been other occasions when I realized I was being rude or mean. I tried to repair those situations too. That is the person I want to be—not someone who never causes harm, because that person does not exist, but someone willing to recognize harm and do something about it. I have also caught myself saying things like:

“Are you crazy?”

Sometimes it comes out through habit. It is one of those expressions many of us learned to throw around without thinking about what it actually communicates. But imagine trying to explain that something hurt you and hearing, “Are you crazy?” What happens to the conversation then? Your experience is no longer the subject. Your mental stability is. I do not want to reproduce the same behaviour I am learning to recognize in others. That is partly why I am writing this—for people like me. People who do not want to fall victim to gaslighting but also do not want to make someone else its victim.

Recognizing gaslighting cannot only be a weapon we point outward. Sometimes it needs to be a mirror.

How Not to Gaslight Someone—Even Unknowingly

It is possible to invalidate someone without deliberately planning to manipulate them. Most of us have become defensive. Most of us have minimized another person’s feelings because accepting their pain would require us to confront something uncomfortable about ourselves. One harmful sentence does not automatically make someone a gaslighter. But refusing to examine the sentence, repeating it, and using it to establish yourself as the only reliable person in the relationship can become a dangerous pattern.

Pause before defending yourself

If someone tells you that your words or actions hurt them, listen for the experience underneath the accusation. You do not have to formulate your entire defence while they are still speaking.

Replace certainty with honesty

Instead of:

“That never happened.”

Try:

“I remember it differently, but my memory may be incomplete. Tell me what you remember.”

You are not required to confess to something you genuinely do not remember. You are being asked to leave room for the possibility that your memory is not the only memory.

Validate feelings without pretending to agree on everything

Validation is not surrender. You can say:

“I can see that this affected you deeply.”

“I believe that you are hurt.”

“Thank you for telling me.”

None of those statements requires you to abandon your perspective. They simply acknowledge that the other person has an inner life that does not require your permission to be real.

Stop using personality as an escape route

Avoid turning the conversation into a judgment about who the person is.

“You’re too sensitive.”

“You always overreact.”

“You’re impossible to talk to.”

“Are you crazy?”

These statements do not resolve the issue. They make the person’s character or mental state the problem so that your behaviour no longer has to be examined. Ask instead:

“What part of what I said felt dismissive?”

“What am I missing?”

“What would help you feel heard?”

Own your impact, not only your intention

“I didn’t mean to hurt you” may be useful context. It is not a complete apology. Good intentions do not erase harmful effects. If you step on someone’s foot accidentally, their foot still hurts. Try:

“I did not intend to dismiss you, but I can see that I did. I’m sorry.”

Avoid:

“I’m sorry you feel that way.”

The first takes responsibility. The second quietly returns the problem to the injured person.

Never weaponize someone’s diagnosis or emotions

Do not use autism, ADHD, anxiety, trauma, depression, memory problems, or emotional overwhelm as automatic proof that someone’s account is unreliable. A person can be anxious and correct. A person can be overwhelmed and correct. A person can struggle to communicate and still know that something harmed them. Address the issue. Do not put their entire mind on trial.

Repair through action

An apology matters. Changed behaviour matters more. Ask what would help. Clarify what you will do differently. Then do it. If the same harm continues while the apologies become increasingly polished, that is not repair. Repair has evidence.

If You Think You Are Being Gaslit

Pay attention to patterns rather than isolated phrases. If it is safe, keep dated notes, screenshots, or records of important conversations. Store them somewhere the other person cannot access. Documentation is not about winning an argument. It can help anchor you when your memory is repeatedly challenged. Talk to someone you trust. A friend, therapist, advocate, or support worker may help you identify patterns that are difficult to see from inside the relationship. Set boundaries where it is safe:

“I will not continue this conversation while my feelings are being mocked.”

“I know what I experienced.”

“We remember this differently. I will not debate whether I am mentally competent to discuss it.”

You are also allowed to disengage. You do not have to remain in an endless argument with someone committed to misunderstanding you. If confronting the person could put you in danger, prioritize safety rather than proving your point. Contact a local domestic-abuse organization or qualified professional for confidential safety planning.

Finding support: In Canada, the Government of Canada’s Get help now page lists provincial and territorial crisis lines, shelters, and other services. Call 911 if there is immediate danger in Canada. In the United States, the National Domestic Violence Hotline offers phone, text, and chat support. Elsewhere, use the emergency and domestic-abuse services for your location.

The Question I Keep Returning To

Maybe the most useful question is not:

“Did this person use one of the official gaslighting phrases?”

Maybe it is:

“What happens to my sense of self when I am around this person?”

Do I leave disagreements feeling heard, even when we do not agree? Can this person admit uncertainty? Can they apologize without making me responsible for the apology? Can I say no? Can I remember something differently without having my sanity questioned? Do our conversations move toward clarity and repair—or toward confusion and control? And I need to ask myself the same questions from the other direction. Do I listen before defending myself? Do I dismiss someone because their reaction makes me uncomfortable? Do I hide behind my intention instead of addressing my impact? When I cause harm, do I repair it? A healthy relationship does not require two people to share one mind.

It makes room for two memories, two emotional experiences, and two people making a sincere effort to find the truth between them. Gaslighting does not make that room. It slowly removes one person from it. I am writing this because I do not want to be removed from my own reality again. I am also writing it because I never want to erase someone else from theirs.

Sources and Further Reading

• What is gaslighting? — The National Domestic Violence Hotline
• “This Was Just How This Friendship Worked”: Experiences of Interpersonal Victimization Among Autistic Adults — Autism in Adulthood
• The Extent and Nature of Autistic People’s Violence Experiences During Adulthood: A Cross-sectional Study of Victimisation — Journal of Autism and Developmental Disorders
• Get help now — Women and Gender Equality Canada

“সবাই জানে তুমি সবকিছু ভুল মনে রাখো।” এই কথাটা বিশেষভাবে কাজ করে। কারণ কয়েকজন মানুষ যখন একসঙ্গে বলে তোমার মেমোরি ভুল, তখন তুমি কী করবে? তুমি নিজেকেই সন্দেহ করতে শুরু করো। হয়তো আমিই ভুল বুঝেছি। হয়তো আমার মেমোরিটাই ঠিক নেই। হয়তো পুরো ঘটনাটা আমি নিজের মাথার মধ্যে বড় করে ফেলেছি। হয়তো অন্য কাউকে দোষ দিচ্ছি এমন একটা পরিস্থিতির জন্য, যেটা আসলে আমি নিজেই তৈরি করেছি। আর বুঝে ওঠার আগেই আমি apologize করছি।

গ্যাসলাইটিং আসলে কী

গ্যাসলাইটিং এমন একটা শব্দ, যেটা এখন এত বেশি ব্যবহার করা হয় যে শব্দটা সবকিছু বোঝাতে শুরু করেছে—আর তাই হয়তো কোনো কিছুই ঠিকমতো বোঝাচ্ছে না। কেউ একটা ঘটনা অন্যভাবে মনে রেখেছে? গ্যাসলাইটিং। কেউ তোমার সঙ্গে disagree করেছে? গ্যাসলাইটিং। কেউ ডিফেন্সিভ হয়ে গেছে বা কোনো ইনসেনসিটিভ কথা বলেছে? গ্যাসলাইটিং। কিন্তু প্রত্যেকটা disagreement, ভুল মেমোরি, ডিফেন্সিভ response বা ডিসমিসিভ কথা গ্যাসলাইটিং নয়। এই পার্থক্যটা বোঝা দরকার। যারা harm করে তাদের রক্ষা করার জন্য নয়—harm-টা আসলে কী, সেটা পরিষ্কারভাবে বোঝার জন্য। গ্যাসলাইটিং হলো emotional manipulation-এর একটি repeated pattern। এখানে একজন মানুষ বারবার আরেকজনের অভিজ্ঞতাকে deny, minimize, distort বা rewrite করতে থাকে। একসময় দ্বিতীয় মানুষটি নিজের মেমোরি, অনুভূতি, বিচারবুদ্ধি এবং রিয়েলিটিকেই আর বিশ্বাস করতে পারে না।

গ্যাসলাইটিং শুধু এই কথাটা নয়:

“আমি ঘটনাটা অন্যভাবে মনে রেখেছি।” এটা ধীরে ধীরে এমন হয়ে যায়:

“ওটা কখনোই হয়নি। তুমি সবকিছু ভুল মনে রাখো। তুমি বেশি সেনসিটিভ। সবাই আমার সঙ্গেই একমত।” এই প্যাটার্নের লক্ষ্য—অথবা অন্তত এর ফাংশন—হলো পাওয়ার। একজন মানুষ ধীরে ধীরে কোনটা সত্যি আর কোনটা সত্যি নয়, তার authority হয়ে ওঠে। অন্য মানুষটি নিজের রিয়েলিটির বদলে সেই মানুষটির version-এর ওপর নির্ভর করতে শুরু করে। National Domestic Violence Hotline গ্যাসলাইটিংকে emotional abuse-এর একটি ধরন হিসেবে বর্ণনা করে। এটা একজন মানুষকে নিজের অনুভূতি, instinct এবং sanity নিয়ে প্রশ্ন করতে বাধ্য করতে পারে। সময়ের সঙ্গে সঙ্গে সেই মানুষটি confused, anxious এবং isolated হয়ে যেতে পারে। কী ঘটেছে, সেটা বোঝার জন্যও সে abusive মানুষটির ওপর নির্ভর করতে শুরু করতে পারে। National Domestic Violence Hotline এটাই গ্যাসলাইটিংকে এত damaging করে তোলে।

এটা শুধু তোমার মেমোরিকে challenge করে না। এটা তোমাকে শেখায় যে নিজের জীবন মনে রাখার qualification-ও তোমার নেই।

গ্যাসলাইটিং শুনতে কেমন হতে পারে

গ্যাসলাইটিং-এর সঙ্গে প্রায়ই এই ধরনের কথা শোনা যায়:

• “ওটা কখনোই হয়নি।”
• “তুমি নিজের মাথায় এসব বানাচ্ছ।”
• “তুমি সবকিছু ভুল মনে রাখো।”
• “বাকি সবাই ঘটনাটা আমার মতোই মনে রেখেছে।”
• “তুমি বেশি সেনসিটিভ।”
• “তুমি খুব ড্রামাটিক।”
• “আমি তো শুধু জোক করছিলাম। তুমি জোক নিতে পারো না?”
• “আর কারও তো আমাকে নিয়ে সমস্যা নেই।”
• “তুমি আমাকে খারাপ মানুষ বানানোর চেষ্টা করছ।”
• “তুমি আবার কনফিউজড হয়ে গেছ।”
• “সবকিছু তোমার মাথার মধ্যে।”

কিন্তু শুধু এই কথাগুলো শুনলেই সেটা গ্যাসলাইটিং-এর প্রমাণ হয়ে যায় না। কেউ একবার “আমি এটা মনে করতে পারছি না” বললেই সে গ্যাসলাইটিং করছে না। দুজন মানুষ একই ঘটনা সত্যিই দুইভাবে মনে রাখতে পারে। মানুষের মেমোরি imperfect—আমার মেমোরিও। একজন মানুষ ডিসমিসিভ কিছু বলেও পরে বুঝতে পারে যে সে harm করেছে। সে apologize করতে পারে এবং নিজের behavior বদলাতে পারে। সেটাকে repeated manipulation-এর প্যাটার্ন বলার প্রয়োজন নেই। বরং গুরুত্বপূর্ণ প্রশ্নগুলো হলো:

এটা কি বারবার ঘটছে? শুধু যখন অ্যাকাউন্টেবিলিটি uncomfortable হয়ে যাচ্ছে, তখনই কি facts rewrite করা হচ্ছে? তোমার মেমোরিকে outvote করার জন্য কি অন্য মানুষদের opinion ব্যবহার করা হচ্ছে? তোমার feelings-কে কি প্রমাণ হিসেবে ব্যবহার করা হচ্ছে যে তুমি irrational? মানুষটি কি curiosity দেখায়, নাকি শুধু certainty? সে কি responsibility নিতে পারে? কথা শেষে তুমি কি ঘটনাটা আরও ভালোভাবে বুঝতে পারো—নাকি নিজের ওপর আরও কম বিশ্বাস নিয়ে ফিরে আসো?

এটা আমার সঙ্গে কী করেছে

অন্য কাউকে দোষ দেওয়ার জন্য আমার guilty লাগত। তারপর নিজের ওপর রাগ হতো—কারণ আমার মনে হতো পুরো পরিস্থিতিটাই হয়তো আমি নিজের মাথার মধ্যে তৈরি করেছি। আমি খুব বেশি apologize করতাম। অনেক সময় আমি ঠিকমতো বুঝতামও না, কোন বিষয়টির জন্য apologize করছি। বিশেষ করে যখন কেউ এমন কোনো ঘটনার জন্য তোমাকে accuse করে, যেটা তুমি মনে করতে পারছ না—অথবা যেটা তুমি সম্পূর্ণ অন্যভাবে মনে রেখেছ—তখন পরিস্থিতিটা আরও কঠিন হয়ে যায়। যে ঘটনা তুমি পরিষ্কারভাবে retrieve করতে পারছ না, সেই ঘটনার বিরুদ্ধে নিজেকে defend করবে কীভাবে? আর অন্য মানুষটি যখন নিজের version নিয়ে সম্পূর্ণ confident, তখন তুমি নিজের ওপর confidence রাখবে কীভাবে? আমি পুরোনো conversation check করেছি। আবার check করেছি।

পুরোনো message বারবার পড়েছি। বোঝার চেষ্টা করেছি আমার কথা কীভাবে অন্যভাবে নেওয়া হয়ে থাকতে পারে। আমার চিন্তার ঠিক কোন জায়গায় ভুল ছিল, সেটা খুঁজেছি। নিজের behavior examine করার মধ্যে কোনো সমস্যা নেই। আমরা কাউকে ভুল বুঝেছি বা harm করেছি কি না, সেটা প্রশ্ন করার willingness আমাদের সবারই থাকা উচিত। কিন্তু আমি শুধু বোঝার জন্য check করছিলাম না। আমি check করছিলাম কারণ আমি নিজেকেই আর বিশ্বাস করছিলাম না। যে বিষয়টা নিয়ে discussion শুরু হয়েছিল, সেই original issue-টাই একসময় গায়েব হয়ে যেত। অন্য মানুষটি কী করেছে, সেটা নিয়ে কথা বলার বদলে আমাকে defend করতে হতো—আমি কথা বলার মতো reasonable, calm, intelligent বা mentally reliable কি না।

আর আমি যদি প্রতিটি detail নিখুঁতভাবে প্রমাণ করতে না পারতাম, তাহলে ধরে নিতাম সমস্যাটা নিশ্চয়ই আমি।

যেদিন প্যাটার্নটা চিনতে পারলাম

আমার বর্তমান থেরাপিস্টের সঙ্গে সম্ভবত ত্রিশতম session-এর কাছাকাছি গিয়ে আমি বিষয়টা দেখতে শুরু করলাম। এটা randomly ঘটছিল না। কিছু নির্দিষ্ট মানুষ বারবার একই strategy ব্যবহার করত—এবং সাধারণত তখনই করত, যখন কোনো argument-এ তারা cornered হয়ে যেত। Conversation যখন এমন কোনো বিষয়ের কাছে পৌঁছাত, যেটা তারা acknowledge করতে চায় না, তখন subject বদলে যেত। হঠাৎ আমরা আর তারা কী বলেছে বা কী করেছে, সেটা নিয়ে কথা বলছি না। আমরা কথা বলছি আমার মেমোরি নিয়ে। আমার tone নিয়ে। আমার sensitivity নিয়ে। আমার সবকিছু ভুল বোঝার tendency নিয়ে। Argument আর তাদের behavior নিয়ে থাকত না। Argument হয়ে যেত—একটা argument করার মতো mental qualification আমার আদৌ আছে কি না। প্যাটার্নটা একবার দেখার পর আর না-দেখার উপায় ছিল না।

তার মানে এই নয় যে সেই মানুষগুলোর সঙ্গে হওয়া প্রত্যেকটা disagreement গ্যাসলাইটিং ছিল। তার মানে এই নয় যে আমার মেমোরি হঠাৎ perfect হয়ে গেল বা আমি কখনোই ভুল হতে পারি না। তার মানে হলো, আমি শেষ পর্যন্ত বুঝতে পেরেছিলাম—আমার uncertainty-কে একটা exit door হিসেবে ব্যবহার করা হচ্ছে। যখনই অ্যাকাউন্টেবিলিটি ঘরে ঢুকত, কেউ আমার self-doubt-এর দরজা দিয়ে পালিয়ে যেত।

কিছু অটিস্টিক adult কেন গ্যাসলাইটিং বুঝতে দেরি করতে পারে

অটিস্টিক মানুষ inherently naïve, incapable বা relationship বুঝতে অক্ষম নয়। সমস্যা এই নয় যে একজন অটিস্টিক মানুষের mind defective। সমস্যা হলো manipulative মানুষ communication, processing, support needs এবং social experience-এর পার্থক্যগুলো exploit করতে পারে। অনেক অটিস্টিক adult—বিশেষ করে যারা জীবনের অনেক পরে ডায়াগনোজড হয়েছে বা এখনো আনডায়াগনোজড—সারা জীবন correction শুনে এসেছে। তুমি জোকটা বুঝতে পারোনি। তুমি বেশি react করছ। তুমি কথাটা খুব literalভাবে নিয়েছ। ওই শব্দটা painful নয়। ওই কাপড়টা তোমাকে hurt করছে না। Scene create করা বন্ধ করো। বাকি সবাই তো ঠিক আছে। কাউকে যদি বারবার বলা হয় যে নিজের experience নিয়ে তার interpretation ভুল, তাহলে কখন “correction” control-এ পরিণত হয়েছে, সেটা চিনতে তার সময় লাগতে পারে।

Mixed message এবং hidden intention decode করাও কঠিন হতে পারে। তুমি যদি সাধারণত ধরে নাও যে মানুষ যা বলে সেটাই mean করে, তাহলে কেউ ইচ্ছা করে নিজের story বদলাচ্ছে, একটা প্যাটার্ন deny করছে বা তোমার trust-কে তোমার বিরুদ্ধে ব্যবহার করছে—এটা হয়তো তোমার মাথায়ই আসবে না। Overload, shutdown, burnout বা pressure-এর মধ্যে communicate করতে না-পারাটাও manipulation-এর জন্য আরেকটা opening তৈরি করতে পারে। কেউ বলতে পারে:

“তুমি তখন খুব emotional ছিলে। তোমার ঠিকমতো মনে থাকার কথা না।”

“তুমি shutdown করে গিয়েছিলে। তার মানে তুমি agree করেছিলে।” এই কথাগুলোর কোনোটাই একজন অটিস্টিক মানুষের রিয়েলিটিকে কম valid করে না। অটিস্টিক adultদের নিজস্ব অভিজ্ঞতার ওপর করা research-এ দেখা গেছে, কিছু participant manipulative intention চিনতে, unhealthy boundary বুঝতে বা unreasonable demand-কে “না” বলতে সমস্যার কথা বলেছেন। Repeated interpersonal victimization-এর পরে অনেকেই নিজেদের judgment নিয়ে সন্দেহ করতে শুরু করেছিলেন। এই findings-এর মানে এই নয় যে harm হওয়ার জন্য অটিস্টিক মানুষ দায়ী। বরং এগুলো দেখায় accessible information, supported self-advocacy এবং healthy relationship-এর clear example কেন দরকার। Autism in Adulthood study Research-এ autistic adultদের মধ্যে non-autistic comparison group-এর তুলনায় বিভিন্ন ধরনের violence এবং repeated victimization-এর higher reported rate-ও পাওয়া গেছে। এর lesson এই নয় যে অটিস্টিক মানুষ “easy target।”

Lesson হলো—abuser, inaccessible system, stigma, isolation এবং autistic communication-কে dismiss করার সংস্কৃতি dangerous condition তৈরি করতে পারে। Cross-sectional victimization study Support দরকার হওয়া তোমার মেমোরিকে disposable করে না। কোনো কিছু differently process করা তোমার experience-কে imaginary করে না। ধীরে communicate করা অন্য কাউকে তোমার রিয়েলিটির ownership দিয়ে দেয় না।

Disagreement গ্যাসলাইটিং নয়

আমি আমার husband-এর সঙ্গে disagree করেছি, কিন্তু তারপরও safe অনুভব করেছি। আমি কয়েকজন close friend-এর সঙ্গে disagree করেছি, কিন্তু তারপরও respected অনুভব করেছি। এই conversation-গুলো uncomfortable হতে পারে। কখনো আমাদের একজন frustrated হয়ে যাই। কখনো পরিষ্কারভাবে কথা বলার আগে আমাদের কিছুটা সময় দরকার হয়। কিন্তু disagreement automatically disrespect হয়ে যায় না। এটাই পার্থক্য। দুজন মানুষ একই situation আলাদাভাবে experience করতে পারে। কী ঘটেছে, সেটা নিয়ে তারা agree করতে পারে, কিন্তু কেন ঘটেছে, এর meaning কী ছিল বা এরপর কী করা উচিত—সেটা নিয়ে disagree করতে পারে। Healthy disagreement-এ দুজন মানুষেরই ঘরের মধ্যে থাকার জায়গা থাকে। একজন বলতে পারে:

“আমার মনে আছে তুমি গলা উঁচু করে কথা বলেছিলে।” অন্যজন বলতে পারে:

“আমার মনে আছে আমি firmভাবে কথা বলেছিলাম। কিন্তু সেটা তোমার কাছে shouting-এর মতো শোনাতে পারে, সেটা আমি বুঝিনি। আমি বিশ্বাস করি তোমার কাছে ঘটনাটা frightening লেগেছিল।” তারা প্রতিটি detail নিয়ে agree করেনি। কিন্তু তাদের কেউই erase হয়ে যায়নি। Healthy disagreement সাধারণত এই জিনিসগুলোর জন্য জায়গা রাখে:

• Different interpretation।
• Shared বা verifiable facts।
• Question এবং clarification।
• Emotional impact-এর প্রতি respect।
• অ্যাকাউন্টেবিলিটি।
• Compromise, problem-solving বা repair।

গ্যাসলাইটিং অন্য কিছু করে। এটা বারবার কোনো ঘটনা deny করে, facts rewrite করে, blame shift করে, credibility attack করে বা confusion তৈরি করে—যাতে accountability এড়ানো যায় এবং control বজায় থাকে। একটা healthy disagreement-ও horrible লাগতে পারে। তুমি কাঁদতে পারো। তুমি রেগে যেতে পারো। তোমাদের কিছু সময় আলাদা থাকতে হতে পারে। শুধু discomfort গ্যাসলাইটিং-এর প্রমাণ নয়। পার্থক্যটা conversation ভালো লাগছে কি না, সেটা নয়। পার্থক্যটা হলো—conversation-এর মধ্যে তোমাকে এখনো exist করতে দেওয়া হচ্ছে কি না। তোমার feelings তোমার প্রতিটি factual claim প্রমাণ করে না। কিন্তু facts নিয়ে disagreement তোমার feelings-কে unreal করে না। কাউকে respect করার জন্য তার সঙ্গে প্রতিটি বিষয়ে agree করতে হয় না।

Uncomfortable অংশ: আমিও harm করতে পারি

আমি এই লেখাটা এমনভাবে লিখতে চাই না, যেন গ্যাসলাইটিং শুধু অন্য মানুষ করে। আমি নিজেকে আমার husband-এর effort minimize করতে ধরেছি—বিশেষ করে আমার family-র সঙ্গে connect করার জন্য সে যে effort দেয়। আমি যখন বুঝতে পেরেছি আমি কী করছি, তখন সেটা remedy করার চেষ্টা করেছি। অন্য সময়েও আমি বুঝতে পেরেছি যে আমি rude বা mean হচ্ছি। সেই situation-গুলোও repair করার চেষ্টা করেছি। আমি সেই মানুষটাই হতে চাই। এমন কেউ না, যে কখনো harm করে না—কারণ এমন মানুষ exist করে না। আমি এমন একজন হতে চাই, যে নিজের করা harm recognize করে এবং সেটা নিয়ে কিছু করে। আমি নিজেকেও এমন কথা বলতে ধরেছি:

“তুমি কি crazy?” অনেক সময় habit থেকে কথাটা বের হয়ে যায়। এটা সেই ধরনের expression, যেটা আমরা অনেকেই শিখেছি—কথাটা আসলে কী communicate করে, সেটা না ভেবেই ব্যবহার করি। কিন্তু imagine করো, তুমি কাউকে বোঝানোর চেষ্টা করছ যে তার কোনো কথা তোমাকে hurt করেছে। উত্তরে সে বলল:

“তুমি কি crazy?” এরপর conversation-টার কী হয়? তোমার experience আর subject থাকে না। তোমার mental stability subject হয়ে যায়। আমি অন্যদের মধ্যে যে behavior চিনতে শিখছি, সেই একই behavior নিজে reproduce করতে চাই না। এই লেখাটা লেখার এটাও একটা কারণ। আমার মতো মানুষদের জন্য—যারা গ্যাসলাইটিং-এর victim হতে চায় না, আবার অন্য কাউকেও এর victim বানাতে চায় না। গ্যাসলাইটিং চেনার জ্ঞান শুধু এমন একটা weapon হতে পারে না, যেটা আমরা অন্যদের দিকে তাক করি। কখনো কখনো এটাকে mirror হিসেবেও ব্যবহার করতে হয়।

না বুঝে কাউকে গ্যাসলাইটিং করা এড়াব কীভাবে

ইচ্ছা করে কাউকে manipulate করার plan ছাড়াও তার experience invalidate করা সম্ভব। আমরা প্রায় সবাই কখনো না কখনো ডিফেন্সিভ হয়েছি। অন্য মানুষের pain accept করলে নিজের সম্পর্কে uncomfortable কোনো সত্যের মুখোমুখি হতে হবে বলে আমরা তার feelings minimize করেছি। একটা harmful sentence বললেই কেউ automatically gaslighter হয়ে যায় না। কিন্তু সেই sentence examine করতে refuse করা, বারবার একই কথা বলা এবং নিজেকে relationship-এর একমাত্র reliable মানুষ হিসেবে প্রতিষ্ঠা করার চেষ্টা dangerous pattern-এ পরিণত হতে পারে।

নিজেকে defend করার আগে একটু pause করো

কেউ যদি বলে তোমার কথা বা behavior তাকে hurt করেছে, accusation-এর নিচে থাকা experience-টা শোনার চেষ্টা করো। সে কথা বলার সময়ই তোমার পুরো defense তৈরি করে ফেলতে হবে না।

Certainty-এর বদলে honesty ব্যবহার করো

এভাবে বলার বদলে:

“ওটা কখনোই হয়নি।” বলতে পারো:

“আমি ঘটনাটা অন্যভাবে মনে রেখেছি। কিন্তু আমার মেমোরিও incomplete হতে পারে। তুমি কী মনে রেখেছ, আমাকে বলো।” তুমি সত্যিই মনে করতে পারছ না—এমন কিছু confess করতে কেউ তোমাকে বলছে না। তোমাকে শুধু এটুকু জায়গা রাখতে বলা হচ্ছে যে তোমার মেমোরিই একমাত্র মেমোরি নয়।

সবকিছুতে agree না করেও feelings validate করো

Validation মানে surrender নয়। তুমি বলতে পারো:

“আমি বুঝতে পারছি এটা তোমাকে অনেক affect করেছে।”

“আমি বিশ্বাস করি তুমি hurt হয়েছ।”

“আমাকে বলার জন্য thank you।” এই কথাগুলোর কোনোটাই তোমাকে নিজের perspective ছেড়ে দিতে বাধ্য করে না। এগুলো শুধু acknowledge করে যে অন্য মানুষটিরও একটা inner life আছে—যেটা real হওয়ার জন্য তোমার permission দরকার নেই।

Personality-কে escape route হিসেবে ব্যবহার করা বন্ধ করো

Conversation-কে অন্য মানুষটি কেমন, তার judgment-এ পরিণত কোরো না।

“তুমি বেশি সেনসিটিভ।”

“তুমি সব সময় overreact করো।”

“তোমার সঙ্গে কথা বলাই impossible।”

“তুমি কি crazy?” এই কথাগুলো original issue solve করে না। এগুলো অন্য মানুষটির character বা mental state-কে problem বানিয়ে দেয়, যাতে তোমার behavior আর examine করতে না হয়। তার বদলে জিজ্ঞাসা করতে পারো:

“আমার কোন কথাটা তোমার কাছে dismissive লেগেছে?”

“আমি কী miss করছি?”

“কী করলে তোমার মনে হবে তোমার কথা শোনা হয়েছে?”

শুধু intention নয়, impact-এর দায়িত্ব নাও

“আমি তোমাকে hurt করতে চাইনি”—এটা useful context হতে পারে। কিন্তু এটা complete apology নয়। Good intention harmful effect মুছে দেয় না। তুমি ভুল করে কারও পায়ে পা দিলেও তার পায়ে ব্যথা লাগে। বলতে পারো:

“আমি তোমাকে dismiss করতে চাইনি। কিন্তু এখন বুঝতে পারছি আমি সেটাই করেছি। আমি sorry।” এটা বলার বদলে:

“তোমার এমন লেগেছে বলে আমি sorry।” প্রথম কথাটা responsibility নেয়। দ্বিতীয় কথাটা quietly problem-টা আবার injured মানুষটির ঘাড়ে ফিরিয়ে দেয়।

কারও diagnosis বা emotion-কে weapon বানিয়ো না

Autism, ADHD, anxiety, trauma, depression, memory problem বা emotional overwhelm-কে automatically প্রমাণ হিসেবে ব্যবহার কোরো না যে কারও account unreliable। একজন মানুষ anxious হয়েও correct হতে পারে। Overwhelmed হয়েও correct হতে পারে। Communicate করতে struggle করেও বুঝতে পারে যে কোনো কিছু তাকে harm করেছে। Issue-টা address করো। মানুষটির পুরো mind-কে trial-এ তুলো না।

Action-এর মাধ্যমে repair করো

Apology গুরুত্বপূর্ণ। Changed behavior আরও গুরুত্বপূর্ণ। কী করলে help হবে, জিজ্ঞাসা করো। তুমি কী differently করবে, সেটা পরিষ্কার করো। তারপর সত্যিই করো। একই harm যদি বারবার চলতে থাকে আর apology-গুলো শুধু আরও polished হয়ে যায়, সেটা repair নয়। Repair-এর evidence থাকে।

যদি মনে হয় তোমার সঙ্গে গ্যাসলাইটিং হচ্ছে

Isolated phrase-এর বদলে প্যাটার্ন খেয়াল করো। Safe হলে important conversation-এর date-সহ note, screenshot বা record রাখো। এমন জায়গায় রাখো, যেখানে অন্য মানুষটি access করতে পারবে না। Documentation কোনো argument জেতার জন্য নয়। যখন তোমার মেমোরিকে বারবার challenge করা হয়, তখন এটা তোমাকে নিজের রিয়েলিটির সঙ্গে anchored থাকতে সাহায্য করতে পারে। বিশ্বাসযোগ্য কারও সঙ্গে কথা বলো। Friend, therapist, advocate বা support worker তোমাকে এমন প্যাটার্ন দেখতে সাহায্য করতে পারে, যেটা relationship-এর ভেতর থেকে বোঝা কঠিন। Safe হলে boundary set করো:

“আমার feelings নিয়ে mock করা হলে আমি এই conversation continue করব না।”

“আমি জানি আমি কী experience করেছি।”

“ঘটনাটা আমরা দুইভাবে মনে রেখেছি। কিন্তু এটা নিয়ে কথা বলার mental competence আমার আছে কি না, সেই debate আমি করব না।” তুমি conversation থেকে disengage করতেও পারো। যে মানুষটি তোমাকে বুঝবে না বলেই ঠিক করেছে, তার সঙ্গে endless argument-এ আটকে থাকার কোনো obligation তোমার নেই। মানুষটির মুখোমুখি হলে তুমি danger-এ পড়তে পারো মনে হলে, নিজের point প্রমাণ করার চেয়ে safety-কে priority দাও। Confidential safety planning-এর জন্য local domestic-abuse organization বা qualified professional-এর সঙ্গে যোগাযোগ করো। Canada-তে Get help now page-এ province অনুযায়ী crisis line ও support service পাওয়া যায়। United States-এ National Domestic Violence Hotline phone, text এবং chat support দেয়।

যে প্রশ্নটার কাছে আমি বারবার ফিরে আসি

হয়তো সবচেয়ে useful প্রশ্নটা এই নয়:

“মানুষটি কি official gaslighting phrase-এর কোনো একটা ব্যবহার করেছে?” হয়তো প্রশ্নটা হলো:

“এই মানুষটির আশেপাশে থাকলে নিজের সম্পর্কে আমার কী মনে হয়?” Disagreement-এর পরেও কি আমার মনে হয় আমার কথা শোনা হয়েছে? মানুষটি কি uncertainty admit করতে পারে? Apology করার পর সেই apology manage করার দায়িত্বও কি আমার ঘাড়ে দেয়? আমি কি “না” বলতে পারি? কোনো ঘটনা অন্যভাবে মনে রাখলে আমার sanity নিয়ে প্রশ্ন তোলা হয় কি? আমাদের conversation কি clarity এবং repair-এর দিকে যায়—নাকি confusion এবং control-এর দিকে? আর আমাকে একই প্রশ্নগুলো উল্টো দিক থেকেও নিজেকে করতে হবে। নিজেকে defend করার আগে আমি কি শুনি? অন্য কারও reaction আমাকে uncomfortable করে বলে আমি কি তাকে dismiss করি? নিজের impact address না করে intention-এর পেছনে লুকাই কি? আমি harm করলে সেটা repair করি কি?

Healthy relationship-এর জন্য দুজন মানুষের একই mind থাকা দরকার নেই। এখানে দুটো মেমোরির জায়গা থাকে। দুটো emotional experience-এর জায়গা থাকে। আর দুজন মানুষ সত্যিটা খুঁজে বের করার sincere চেষ্টা করে। গ্যাসলাইটিং সেই জায়গাটা তৈরি করে না। এটা ধীরে ধীরে একজন মানুষকে সেই জায়গা থেকে সরিয়ে দেয়। আমি এই লেখাটা লিখছি, কারণ আমি আর কখনো নিজের রিয়েলিটি থেকে সরিয়ে দেওয়া হতে চাই না। আর আমি কখনো অন্য কাউকে তার নিজের রিয়েলিটি থেকে erase করতে চাই না।

Sources এবং আরও পড়া

• What is gaslighting? — The National Domestic Violence Hotline
• Autistic adults-এর interpersonal victimization নিয়ে qualitative study — PubMed
• Autistic adults-এর violence victimization নিয়ে cross-sectional study — PMC
• Gender-based violence support in Canada

গ্যাসলাইটিং আসলে কী?

গ্যাসলাইটিং শুধু কারও সঙ্গে একমত না হওয়া নয়। কারও মেমোরি ভুল হতেই পারে। দুজন মানুষ একই ঘটনা আলাদাভাবে মনে রাখতেই পারে। একজন মানুষ কোনো আর্গুমেন্টে ডিফেন্সিভও হয়ে যেতে পারে। একটি রুড কমেন্ট বা খারাপ রিঅ্যাকশন মানেই গ্যাসলাইটিং নয়। গ্যাসলাইটিং হলো একটি রিপিটেড প্যাটার্ন। এই প্যাটার্নে একজন মানুষ বারবার তোমার মেমোরি, ফিলিংস বা রিয়েলিটিকে অস্বীকার করে, ছোট করে দেখে অথবা নিজের সুবিধামতো বদলে দেয়। শেষ পর্যন্ত তুমি নিজের জাজমেন্টের চেয়ে তার ভার্সনকেই বেশি বিশ্বাস করতে শুরু করো। কথাগুলো অনেক সময় খুব পরিচিত শোনায়:

“তুমি বেশি সেনসিটিভ।”

“এটা কখনোই ঘটেনি।”

“তুমি নিজের মাথায় এসব বানাচ্ছ।”

“তুমি সব সময় ওভাররিঅ্যাক্ট করো।”

“আমি তো শুধু জোক করছিলাম। তুমি জোক নিতে পারো না?” একটি বাক্য একবার বলা হলেই সেটি গ্যাসলাইটিং হয়ে যায় না। দেখতে হবে, এটি কি একটি প্যাটার্ন? মানুষটি কি বিশেষ করে তখনই তোমার মেমোরি বা রিয়েলিটিকে অস্বীকার করে, যখন তাকে নিজের কাজের অ্যাকাউন্টেবিলিটি নিতে বলা হয়? প্রতিটি কঠিন কনভারসেশনের শেষে কি তুমি আগের চেয়ে আরও বেশি কনফিউজড হয়ে ফিরে আসো? কারণ গ্যাসলাইটিংয়ের সবচেয়ে বড় চিহ্ন শুধু কথাগুলো নয়। কথাগুলো তোমার ভেতরে কী করছে, সেটাও গুরুত্বপূর্ণ।

যখন তুমি নিজেকেই দোষী ভাবতে শুরু করো

আমি অনেক সময় অন্য কাউকে দোষ দেওয়ার জন্য গিল্টি অনুভব করেছি। নিজের ওপর রাগ করেছি—কেন আমি নিজের মাথার ভেতর এমন একটি সিচুয়েশন তৈরি করলাম? আমি প্রয়োজনের চেয়ে অনেক বেশি অ্যাপোলজাইজ করেছি। বিশেষ করে যখন আমি মনে করতে পারিনি অন্য মানুষটি ঠিক কোন ঘটনার কথা বলছে, অথবা যখন আমার মেমোরির সঙ্গে তার বর্ণনা মেলেনি। তখন আমার কাছে নিজের পক্ষে দাঁড়ানোর মতো শক্ত কিছু থাকত না। শুধু একটি অনুভূতি থাকত—কিছু একটা ঠিক নয়। কিন্তু সেই অনুভূতিকেও বিশ্বাস করতে পারতাম না। আমি পুরোনো কনভারসেশন বারবার চেক করেছি। মেসেজ পড়েছি, আবার পড়েছি। বোঝার চেষ্টা করেছি, আমার কথা কীভাবে অন্যভাবে নেওয়া হয়ে থাকতে পারে। কোন শব্দটি ভুল ছিল? কোন লাইনে আমি রুড হয়ে গেলাম? কোথায় আমার আইডিয়াটি ভুল ছিল?

নিজের ভুল খুঁজে দেখা খারাপ কিছু নয়। সেলফ-রিফ্লেকশন জরুরি। কিন্তু যখন প্রতিটি কনফ্লিক্টের শেষে শুধু একজন মানুষই নিজের প্রতিটি কথা, প্রতিটি মেমোরি এবং প্রতিটি ফিলিংস নিয়ে সন্দেহ করতে থাকে, তখন সেটি আর হেলদি সেলফ-রিফ্লেকশন থাকে না। সেটি ধীরে ধীরে নিজের ওপর বিশ্বাস হারিয়ে ফেলা হয়ে যায়।

প্যাটার্নটি বুঝতে আমার সময় লেগেছে

আমার কারেন্ট থেরাপিস্টের সঙ্গে প্রায় ত্রিশটি সেশনের পর আমি একটি জিনিস বুঝতে শুরু করি। এই ঘটনাগুলো র‌্যান্ডম ছিল না। কিছু নির্দিষ্ট মানুষ একই কাজ বারবার করত। সব সময় নয়—বিশেষ করে তখন, যখন তারা কোনো আর্গুমেন্টে কর্নারড হয়ে যেত। যখন তাদের কোনো কাজ নিয়ে প্রশ্ন করা হতো অথবা তাদের অ্যাকাউন্টেবিলিটি নিতে হতো, তখন হঠাৎ আর্গুমেন্টের বিষয় বদলে যেত। আলোচনা আর তাদের কাজ নিয়ে থাকত না। আলোচনা হয়ে যেত আমার সেনসিটিভিটি নিয়ে। আমার মেমোরি নিয়ে। আমার টোন নিয়ে। আমি কীভাবে কথাটি বলেছি, সেটা নিয়ে। একসময় আমি কী বলতে চেয়েছিলাম, সেটি আর গুরুত্বপূর্ণ থাকত না। গুরুত্বপূর্ণ হয়ে উঠত—আমি আদৌ নিজের রিয়েলিটিকে বিশ্বাস করার যোগ্য কি না।

থেরাপির সাহায্যে আমি বুঝতে শুরু করি, এটি শুধু একটি ভুল বোঝাবুঝি নয়। এটি এমন একটি প্যাটার্ন, যেটি কিছু মানুষ আর্গুমেন্ট থেকে বের হয়ে যাওয়ার জন্য ব্যবহার করে। ইচ্ছাকৃতভাবে হোক বা নিজেদের পুরোনো হ্যাবিটের কারণে হোক, এর ইফেক্ট একই হতে পারে: অন্য মানুষটি নিজের ওপর সন্দেহ করতে শুরু করে।

অটিস্টিক অ্যাডাল্টদের জন্য এটি বোঝা আরও কঠিন হতে পারে

ডায়াগনোজড বা আনডায়াগনোজড—অনেক অটিস্টিক অ্যাডাল্টের জন্য গ্যাসলাইটিং চিনতে পারা বিশেষভাবে কঠিন হতে পারে। ছোটবেলা থেকেই হয়তো অন্যরা তোমাকে কারেক্ট করে এসেছে। তুমি নাকি মানুষের কথা ভুল বুঝেছ। তুমি নাকি টোন ধরতে পারোনি। তুমি নাকি খুব লিটারেল। তোমার রিঅ্যাকশন নাকি সিচুয়েশনের তুলনায় বেশি। তোমার সেন্সরি ওভারলোডকে হয়তো “ড্রামা” বলা হয়েছে। তোমার শাটডাউনকে “অ্যাটিটিউড” বলা হয়েছে। তোমার বার্নআউটকে “আলসেমি” বলা হয়েছে। তখন অন্য কেউ যদি বলে, “তুমি ঘটনাটি ভুল বুঝেছ,” সেটি খুব পরিচিত শোনায়। কারণ সারাজীবন ধরেই তো শোনা হয়েছে যে অন্যরা সোশ্যাল সিচুয়েশন আমার চেয়ে ভালো বোঝে।

মিক্সড মেসেজ বোঝা কঠিন হতে পারে। কেউ মুখে এক কথা বললেও তার আচরণ অন্য কিছু বোঝাতে পারে। লিটারেল থিংকিংয়ের কারণে ম্যানিপুলেশন ধরা কঠিন হতে পারে। ওভারলোড, শাটডাউন বা বার্নআউটের সময় নিজের কথাগুলো গুছিয়ে বলা বা কোনো ঘটনার ডিটেইল মনে করা আরও কঠিন হয়ে যেতে পারে। আর একজন ম্যানিপুলেটিভ মানুষ ঠিক এই দুর্বল মুহূর্তগুলোই ব্যবহার করতে পারে। কিন্তু সাপোর্টের প্রয়োজন হওয়া তোমার রিয়েলিটিকে কম ভ্যালিড করে না। সব ডিটেইল মনে না থাকা মানে এই নয় যে ঘটনাটি ঘটেনি। নিজের এক্সপেরিয়েন্স বোঝাতে অসুবিধা হওয়া মানে এই নয় যে অন্য কেউ তোমার হয়ে সেই এক্সপেরিয়েন্সের অর্থ ঠিক করে দেবে।

সব ডিসএগ্রিমেন্ট গ্যাসলাইটিং নয়

এটি বলা খুব জরুরি—কারণ এখন গ্যাসলাইটিং শব্দটি এত বেশি ব্যবহার করা হয় যে অনেক সময় সাধারণ ডিসএগ্রিমেন্টকেও গ্যাসলাইটিং বলা হয়ে যায়। দুজন মানুষ একই ঘটনা আলাদাভাবে দেখতে পারে। তারা কোনো ঘটনার অর্থ নিয়ে একমত না-ও হতে পারে। তারা রেগে যেতে পারে, ফ্রাস্ট্রেটেড হতে পারে, এমনকি ভুল কথাও বলে ফেলতে পারে। হেলদি ডিসএগ্রিমেন্ট সব সময় শান্ত, সুন্দর বা পারফেক্ট হয় না। কিন্তু সেখানে তোমাকে নিজের রিয়েলিটি ত্যাগ করতে হয় না। একটি হেলদি ডিসএগ্রিমেন্টে বলা যেতে পারে:

“আমি ঘটনাটি অন্যভাবে মনে রেখেছি।”

“আমি তোমার কথার সঙ্গে একমত নই, কিন্তু বুঝতে পারছি এটি তোমাকে হার্ট করেছে।”

“আমার ইনটেনশন সেটা ছিল না। কিন্তু আমার কথার ইমপ্যাক্ট যদি এমন হয়ে থাকে, তাহলে আমি সেটা বুঝতে চাই।” এখানে দুইজনের মেমোরি আলাদা হতে পারে, কিন্তু একজনকে ক্রেজি প্রমাণ করার চেষ্টা করা হচ্ছে না। নিজের ভার্সন সঠিক প্রমাণ করার জন্য অন্যজনের ফিলিংস মুছে দেওয়া হচ্ছে না। আমি আমার হাজব্যান্ড এবং কয়েকজন ফ্রেন্ডের সঙ্গে এই ধরনের সেফটি অনুভব করেছি। তাদের সঙ্গে ডিসএগ্রিমেন্ট মানে ডিসরেসপেক্ট নয়। আমরা একমত না হয়েও কথা বলতে পারি। আমি প্রশ্ন করতে পারি। নিজের কথা বলতে পারি। ভুল করলে সেটি স্বীকার করতে পারি। তারপর সম্পর্কটিকে রিপেয়ার করার চেষ্টা করতে পারি। এই সেফটি আমাকে শিখিয়েছে—একটি আর্গুমেন্টের উদ্দেশ্য সব সময় জেতা নয়। অনেক সময় উদ্দেশ্য হলো একে অন্যকে বোঝা।

আর আমি সেই একই সেফটি অন্য মানুষদের দেওয়ার চেষ্টা করি।

কিন্তু আমি নিজেও কি কখনো কাউকে গ্যাসলাইট করেছি?

এই প্রশ্নটিও আমাকে নিজেকে করতে হয়েছে। কারণ আমি শুধু অন্য মানুষের আচরণ নিয়ে লিখতে চাই না। আমার নিজের আচরণ নিয়েও সৎ থাকতে চাই। আমি বুঝতে পেরেছি, কিছু সময় আমি আমার হাজব্যান্ড আমার ফ্যামিলির সঙ্গে মানিয়ে নেওয়ার জন্য যে এফোর্ট দিয়েছে, সেটিকে যথেষ্ট গুরুত্ব দিইনি। হয়তো তার এফোর্ট ছোট করে দেখেছি অথবা ধরে নিয়েছি, এটি তো তার করাই উচিত। যখন বিষয়টি বুঝতে পেরেছি, তখন সেটি মেনে নেওয়ার এবং রিপেয়ার করার চেষ্টা করেছি। অন্য সময়েও বুঝেছি, আমি রুড বা মিন হয়ে যাচ্ছি। আমি যতটা সম্ভব সেই সিচুয়েশনগুলো ঠিক করার চেষ্টা করেছি। আমি এমনই একজন মানুষ—নিজের ভুল বুঝতে পারলে সেটি নিয়ে কিছু করতে চাই। কিন্তু আমারও কিছু খারাপ হ্যাবিট আছে।

কখনো কখনো আমি বলে ফেলি, “তুমি কি ক্রেজি?” অথবা “আর ইউ ক্রেজি?” অনেক সময় কথাটি হালকাভাবে বা পুরোনো হ্যাবিট থেকে বের হয়ে আসে। কিন্তু আমার ইনটেনশন খারাপ না হলেও কথাটির ইমপ্যাক্ট খারাপ হতে পারে। অন্য মানুষটি অনুভব করতে পারে যে আমি তার চিন্তা বা রিয়েলিটিকে গুরুত্ব দিচ্ছি না।

“আমি ওইভাবে বলতে চাইনি”—এটি একা যথেষ্ট নয়। কারণ ভালো ইনটেনশন খারাপ ইমপ্যাক্ট মুছে দেয় না। আমি এই হ্যাবিট থেকে বের হয়ে আসার চেষ্টা করছি। আর এই লেখাটি শুধু তাদের জন্য নয়, যারা গ্যাসলাইটিংয়ের ভিকটিম হয়েছে। এটি আমার মতো মানুষদের জন্যও—যারা কোনো খারাপ ইনটেনশন ছাড়াই পুরোনো হ্যাবিট, ফ্যামিলি ডায়নামিক বা শেখা ল্যাঙ্গুয়েজের কারণে অন্য কাউকে হার্ট করতে পারে। আমি চাই না কেউ আমার রিয়েলিটি মুছে দিক। কিন্তু আমি নিজেও অন্য কারও রিয়েলিটি মুছে দিতে চাই না।

অজান্তে কাউকে গ্যাসলাইট না করার জন্য কী করা যায়?

প্রথমত, শোনার আগে নিজেকে ডিফেন্ড করা বন্ধ করতে হবে। কেউ যদি বলে, “তোমার কথায় আমি হার্ট হয়েছি,” সঙ্গে সঙ্গে “তুমি বেশি সেনসিটিভ” বলার বদলে বলা যেতে পারে:

“আমি বুঝতে পারছি, কথাটি তোমাকে হার্ট করেছে।”

“আমাকে বলো, কোন অংশটি তোমার কাছে এমন লেগেছে।”

“হয়তো আমি কিছু মিস করছি।” ভ্যালিডেশন মানে এই নয় যে তোমাকে অন্য মানুষটির প্রতিটি ব্যাখ্যার সঙ্গে একমত হতে হবে। ভ্যালিডেশন মানে তার ফিলিংস তার কাছে সত্যি—এটি মেনে নেওয়া। দ্বিতীয়ত, নিজের ল্যাঙ্গুয়েজ খেয়াল করতে হবে।

“এটা কখনোই ঘটেনি” বলার বদলে বলা যেতে পারে, “আমি ঘটনাটি অন্যভাবে মনে রেখেছি।”

“তুমি ওভাররিঅ্যাক্ট করছ” বলার বদলে জিজ্ঞেস করা যেতে পারে, “কোন অংশটি তোমাকে এতটা অ্যাফেক্ট করেছে?”

“তুমি ভুল বুঝেছ” বলার বদলে বলা যেতে পারে, “আমি কী বোঝাতে চেয়েছিলাম এবং তুমি কী বুঝেছ—দুটির মধ্যে হয়তো একটি গ্যাপ আছে।” তৃতীয়ত, নিজের ইমপ্যাক্টের দায় নিতে হবে। অ্যাপোলজি এমন হওয়া উচিত নয়:

“তোমার খারাপ লেগেছে বলে আমি সরি।” এখানে দায়টি আবারও অন্য মানুষটির ফিলিংসের ওপর চাপিয়ে দেওয়া হয়। তার বদলে বলা যেতে পারে:

“আমার কথায় তুমি ডিসমিসড অনুভব করেছ। আমি সরি।”

“আমি বুঝতে পারছি, আমার কথাটি রুড ছিল।”

“পরেরবার আমি অন্যভাবে বলার চেষ্টা করব।” সবশেষে, রিপেয়ার শুধু কথার মাধ্যমে হয় না। আচরণেও পরিবর্তন আনতে হয়। একই কাজ বারবার করে প্রতিবার শুধু “সরি” বললে সেটি রিপেয়ার নয়।

নিজের রিয়েলিটিতে ফিরে আসা

গ্যাসলাইটিং থেকে বের হয়ে আসার পর নিজের ওপর আবার বিশ্বাস তৈরি করতে সময় লাগে। কোনো কনভারসেশনের পর যদি তুমি আগের চেয়ে বেশি কনফিউজড হয়ে যাও, সেটি খেয়াল করো। বারবার একই প্যাটার্ন ঘটলে লিখে রাখো। সেফ হলে মেসেজ, তারিখ বা নোট সংরক্ষণ করো। এমন কারও সঙ্গে কথা বলো, যাকে তুমি বিশ্বাস করো। প্রয়োজন হলে কোনো থেরাপিস্ট বা প্রফেশনালের সাহায্য নাও। নিজেকে কয়েকটি প্রশ্ন করতে পারো:

এই মানুষটির সঙ্গে কথা বলার পর আমি কি বিষয়টি আরও পরিষ্কারভাবে বুঝতে পারছি, নাকি আরও বেশি কনফিউজড হয়ে যাচ্ছি? আমার ফিলিংস কি শোনা হচ্ছে, নাকি প্রতিটি কনভারসেশনে আমাকে নিজের ফিলিংসের পক্ষে প্রমাণ দিতে হচ্ছে? মানুষটি কি নিজের ভুলের দায় নিতে পারে? নাকি প্রতিবারই শেষ পর্যন্ত সবকিছু আমার দোষ হয়ে যায়? নিজের মেমোরি সব সময় পারফেক্ট হবে না। কারও মেমোরিই হয় না। কিন্তু নিজের মেমোরি পারফেক্ট না হওয়া আর অন্য কাউকে নিজের রিয়েলিটির সম্পূর্ণ কন্ট্রোল দিয়ে দেওয়া এক বিষয় নয়। তোমার প্রতিটি ডিটেইল মনে না থাকলেও তোমার ফিলিংস সত্যি। তুমি কোনো ঘটনা অন্যভাবে মনে রাখলেও তোমাকে সম্মান করা সম্ভব। কেউ তোমার সঙ্গে একমত না হয়েও তোমার রিয়েলিটিকে সম্মান করতে পারে।

আমি লিখছি কারণ আমি আর কারও আর্গুমেন্ট থেকে বাঁচার রাস্তা হতে চাই না। কাউকে কর্নারড লাগলেই যেন সে আমার মেমোরি, সেনসিটিভিটি বা মানসিক অবস্থা নিয়ে প্রশ্ন তুলে বের হয়ে যেতে না পারে। একই সঙ্গে, আমিও যেন আমার ইনটেনশনকে ঢাল হিসেবে ব্যবহার করে অন্য কারও ইমপ্যাক্ট অস্বীকার না করি। আমি চাই না অন্য কেউ আমাকে আমার নিজের রিয়েলিটি থেকে সরিয়ে দিক। আর আমি নিজেও অন্য কাউকে তার রিয়েলিটি থেকে সরিয়ে দিতে চাই না।

সূত্র এবং আরও পড়া

• What is gaslighting? — The National Domestic Violence Hotline
• অটিস্টিক প্রাপ্তবয়স্কদের interpersonal victimization নিয়ে qualitative study — PubMed
• অটিস্টিক প্রাপ্তবয়স্কদের violence victimization নিয়ে cross-sectional study — PMC
• Canada-তে gender-based violence support

About this piece: I wrote this when I was in a safe house, contemplating why life was worth living. I was not in harm’s way from anyone but myself then. This came out after a therapy session, when I was staring at nothing in particular. The social workers at the safe house put it up for others like me who came there—just to have something to read and maybe connect with in some way. This is a personal reflection, not mental-health advice.

I do not know what this is going to be about. Life sometimes puts you in a position where it is not only hard to decide what to do, but even to understand where you stand. I am currently at one of those points where I find myself imbalanced—not lost, but undiscovered. It isn’t like I do not know who I am, or like a teenager trying to find myself, but I am at a crossroads where who I have been so far has only done me harm. I have pushed people away and pulled myself away from people; thus, I need a new path and a medium to fuel myself to life and function.

We as humans are, of course, made of biological cells that combine to make organs that in turn combine to make us function. However, there is also energy in us—not the kind of chemical energy that we need to walk, talk, and move, which we get via nutrition, but the kind that mentally fuels us.

Imagine your body as a flowing pond: one whirlpool after another, each dependent on the previous. These, as I call them, are chakras where your energy, or chi, concentrates. When one of the whirlpools or chakras gets blocked, the rest suffer from its lack of flow, and as a result our mental functioning suffers. We fail to handle scenarios that we easily used to before, be it something as simple as going outside or facing one’s fears. So the question is: how do we keep our energy, or as I say CHI, flowing?

I found a framework of seven core chakras. For the purpose of visualisation, I am going to assign a place and a name to them, along with what they deal with and how I try to keep the chi in them flowing.

The Angst: This is the first chakra, located at the lumbar area of your spine. It focuses on survival and is blocked by fear. In order to unblock this chakra and keep the chi flowing, one must face their fear—either by physically facing it or by understanding the limited power of the fear over them.

The Onus: The second chakra is located at the joint between the pelvis and hip bones, also known as the sacrum. It is fuelled by your pleasures, while guilt will block it and thus halt the chakras beyond it. In order to keep the chi in this chakra flowing, you must forgive yourself. Either find a way to forgive yourself or, in case that isn’t possible, do things that work as penance and thus lead to forgiving yourself.

The Ignominy: The third chakra, located at the centre of your being—the stomach—is powered by sheer willpower and blocked by shame. There is no other way but full acceptance of things to keep your energy flowing at this level.

The Woe: The fourth chakra may be easily confused with the first, except for the silver lining between them. This chakra, which I call Woe, is located at the heart, as it often physically manifests at this location. It is powered by and flourishes with love; grief is its hamartia. Each person deals with this in a different way. Whatever works to keep the chi flowing in this chakra is right. There is no wrong—unless, of course, you want to hurt someone else. In that case… DON’T.

The Artifice: I call this whirlpool Artifice because it is blocked by lies and trickery, and one can make it flourish only with truth. There is no shortcut to unblocking this chakra. It is located at the throat. Once you unblock this chakra, you will finally start feeling lighter.

The Light: Located at the forehead, this chakra is a bit different from the others because it sees everything as one. Every life and every being, no matter how different they are from each other, are essentially one, and this chakra inspires that insight. Any sort of illusion will block your energy from flowing through. Most people might not be okay with or open to the idea of unblocking this chakra, and that is completely okay. It is a choice as to what level of detachment from or attachment to this world one wants.

Mind: This is the last and most important chakra that you must keep open to achieve anything close to nirvana in this life. Located at the top of the head, or the crown, it deals with celestial energy: your realisation of your place in this world and how significant or insignificant your existence and the existence of others are—to see the largest picture possible. It is blocked by attachments and can only be unclogged by letting go.

So now comes the question of what the point is of saying all this. In the past, I embraced this and found bliss in moments that would have otherwise killed me. I started with chakra one and slowly moved on from there. The only condition of doing this form of meditation is that one cannot stop once they have started; one must progressively achieve all of them to finally unclog all the chakras. If you abandon the journey, however, you might find yourself in a worse situation than the one you began with.

It is a matter of a lot of perseverance, energy, and effort, and that is what brings me to my current situation. Even though I know that this, like before, will help me again, I cannot bring myself to start the process because I am neither in the headspace nor do I possess the energy and commitment to follow through. But if you find that this might help you, go ahead and try. You never know what kind of trauma or hurt it will save you from.