Choosing Your Own Dreams

“I play tennis for a living, even though I hate tennis, hate it with a dark and secret passion, and always have” is how Andre Agassi begins his book Open. The pages that follow take the reader through the reasons why Agassi had a tortured relationship with the game that made him famous. In heartbreaking detail, Agassi recounts that he was living his father’s dreams of becoming a tennis champion. At a young age, Agassi was forced to hit ball after ball: “My father says that if I hit 2,500 balls each day, I’ll hit 17,500 balls each week, and at the end of one year I’ll have hit nearly one million balls. He believes in math. Numbers, he says, don’t lie. A child who hits one million balls each year will be unbeatable.” For a while, Agassi found solace in winning. He won his way to eight grand slams. But what eluded him were feelings of contentment and happiness. “I never chose this life, so I resented it,” Agassi says. “It came with a huge price tag.” The reader is left with the question of whether it was all worth it in the end.

While I wasn’t anywhere close to being a grand slam tennis champion, as a competitive tennis player growing up and as a parent of two children now, the themes in this book hit close to home. I began playing tennis at the ripe age of six because my father wanted his children to play tennis competitively. My great grandfather was a tennis champion in India, but could never travel abroad to share his talent because his family believed that crossing an ocean was taboo (called kala pani, to some “crossing the ocean entailed the end of the reincarnation cycle, as the traveler was cut off from the regenerating waters of the Ganges. Such voyages also meant breaking family and social ties.”) Through me and my brother, my father hoped to continue his grandfather’s legacy and the tradition of playing tennis. While I am grateful that my father didn’t make me hit a million balls a year like Agassi’s father, undoubtedly, there was pressure to win. I won a slew of tournaments. I went on to hold the #1 spot on my high school varsity team for four years, captaining the last two, and walked on to the Tufts Varsity Women’s Team as a freshmen and captained that team in my junior year. I had long given up hope that I would be a world-class tennis player by the time I graduated college but this childhood dream lingered.

When we had our son Kabir fourteen years ago, I was hopeful that he would pick up where I left off with tennis. To my delight, he took to tennis early and started to play at the age of three. We enrolled him in lessons at the age of four and he seemed to really like it. As I would sit at his lessons, I started to notice that parents were going crazy on the sidelines. This was very different than my childhood. Of course there were those notorious parents on the tennis tournament circuit a la Agassi’s father but those folks were anomalies, not the norm. One day, a father ran out onto the court, mid-lesson, to scold his five-year-old for not hitting the ball over the net. And this was at a kids’ lesson at a local tennis club! I was baffled. What was going on?

Anybody who knows me knows that I am super competitive. It’s in my blood. But seeing that child being pushed and berated by his parent did something to me that day. It was then that I vowed to NEVER be that parent. (Side note: While I think tennis specifically lends itself to this type of bad parenting behavior, I have witnessed this nonsense at my daughter’s soccer games and my son’s basketball games. There is something going on with children’s sports in America. And it’s not good. But that’s a topic for another day.)

Kabir tried different sports from baseball to basketball and a lot in-between. During middle school, Kabir flourished at team sports. He loved the flag football and basketball teams. He ended up co-captaining his ultimate frisbee team to a state championship and being nominated as a state all-star player. Kabir is an intense athlete and competitive like me. He is also a perfectionist in the things that matter most to him. He will spend hours playing a song on the piano, getting the notes just right to his liking. A keen observer, my son will spend hours watching the greats in their craft- from speeches to manner of acting, he misses nothing. Much like a baby, my son learns by imitation and repeats ad nauseam until mastery. His work ethic and commitment are unparalleled. Just ask his seventh grade teacher where Kabir got the highest grade, ever, that this teacher has given in his 20+ year career.

All the while, we continued to send Kabir to tennis so he could build up his skills. He tried his hand at tennis tournaments a few years ago. While he did relatively well for his first few tournaments, he never took to the competition on the court. Knowing what a perfectionist he is and just how competitive he could be, it was puzzling to witness a complete transformation of Kabir on the tennis court. I didn’t recognize this child. It was like he gave up before he even tried. There was no fight in him and no desire to win or do well. It seemed like he just wanted to get off the tennis court as soon as possible. It didn’t help matters that in a tournament that he was set to win, the opponent cheated on match point (sadly, but unsurprisingly, encouraged by his parents) and Kabir ended up losing the match. Thankfully, other parents witnessed this theft and tried consoling us but perhaps that was the turning point for Kabir? Unfortunately, we will never really know. But after a few more tournaments, Kabir didn’t want to play tennis competitively anymore.

It wasn’t until I read Agassi’s autobiography that I finally got it. “Tennis is the loneliest sport.” This line hit me hard. I finally understood what Kabir felt on the tennis court. “In tennis you're on an island. Of all the games men and women play, tennis is the closest to solitary confinement.” So that was what Kabir felt on the court! I wept. What delighted Kabir so much about sports was feeling like he was on a team and that he was part of something bigger than himself. He enjoyed the camaraderie with his teammates and working collectively on the goal of winning. In playing tennis matches, he felt alone. He was alone on the court. And he hated that feeling. I wept with this profound understanding of my son and wept as I released all tennis expectations, of him and myself.

My son came home yesterday from trying out for a basketball team with a huge grin on his face. He doesn’t know if he made the team. But he knew that he had given it his all with the weeks he had spent practicing three pointers at a nearby park, playing pickup with the neighborhood kids, learning skills at an intensive city basketball summer league and watching hours of basketball videos on YouTube. As he stepped on the basketball court, his eyes were intense and focused. He brought the competition with him this time, just on a different type of court. With a big sigh of relief, I let out all that I had been withholding these past few years about sports, tennis and meeting my expectations. I’ve realized that as a parent, just letting my son be and allowing him to have his own dreams is what is worth it to me. At the end of the day, Kabir’s radiant smile confirmed this hard-won truth.

What was Lost

The other day, I used the term “pre-pandemic” in a discussion with my children. They didn’t bat an eyelash and knew exactly of what period of time I was referring. “Pre-pandemic” and “post-pandemic” have come to signify so much more than simply a period before and after the three years of the pandemic. The post-world is so different and feels other worldly. We as a collective have felt such seismic shifts in living, working and being that it will take generations to fully appreciate the impacts.

However, lately, I can’t help to think about all that we lost. Pre-pandemic, my house ran like clockwork. Both kids were off to school, lunches prepared and my husband and I were at our desks in time for our 9AM meetings. And then the evening hustle would begin, with different kid activities, board meetings, social commitments, and everything in-between. We did that five days a week, for weeks on end, because that’s what was expected of us to advance our careers, provide for our family, and participate in the communities we chose to belong. This is not to paint a rosy picture of ease with this routine (some days it was an absolute shit show!), but we followed it without question and so did many people within our circles.

Now, post-pandemic, our lives are so different. I don’t know about you, but it takes me so much longer to do anything these days. The hustle is gone and that sense of shared purpose and belonging has evaporated as well. During the pandemic, everything came to a standstill. Life with its hustle and bustle stopped. For those who were not deemed “essential workers” and who were privileged in society and blessed with work-from-home jobs, the pandemic forced us to slow down. Now, don’t get me wrong, there were moments that were stressful. But if you didn’t leave your house for days, and had your groceries delivered to you (after they spent a day in the garage and were wiped down clean), your life was opposite to what life was like pre-pandemic. For many of us, this change was welcomed. It was a time to reassess priorities, places of work, jobs, as well as activities and the myriad of other things we had voluntarily put on our plates pre-pandemic.

As we make our way out of the pandemic into this post world, I am not sure we have reckoned with the consequences of what happens when our worlds slow down and priorities shift. I know for me, my world got smaller, unintentionally. Where I used to chat with so many people in my day, from coworkers to receptionists to caregivers and providers, I’m lucky if my day includes anybody outside of my immediate family. I know I am not alone. In my reprioritization efforts, I seem to have reduced my life to the “essential” for the sake of productivity, efficiency and survival. In doing so, I have underestimated the value and worth of the supposed “non-essentials” like acquaintances, community and sense of belonging.

We saw what happens when we deem people to be “essential” vs. “nonessential,” when we prioritize bars and restaurants over schools and daycares and when we question public health in the name of individual liberties. Millions of people died. Income inequality exacerbated, Mental illness among youth skyrocketed. In no other time in my lifetime have we seen and felt the implications of such profound shifts in societal values so clearly. And I believe we have not reckoned fully with the consequences of these changes.

There is perhaps no clearer example of these shifts than the workplace in corporate America today. Companies are trying to entice their workers back to the office with mandates, free lunches and parking and other such benefits that pre-pandemic would have immediately propelled a company to the top of any “Best Company” list. However, workers are calling their employers’ bluff understanding if a company has survived until the post-pandemic world, working remotely remains a viable and productive solution. And companies are struggling to show the value proposition of returning to office. What makes being in the office necessary if you spend most of your day on zoom calls with employees in different locations? Because we have shifted our societal values to ones of productivity and efficiency, now it is companies that are having to prove the same to their employees. While I certainly don’t place blame on employees for the current return to office debacle playing out in almost every office across the country, I may be unpopular, but I miss how work life used to be. I miss the organic connections, the impromptu drinks post-work and the camaraderie that existed when the same was expected of all of us, all the time. It no longer feels like we are working together with a philosophy of “a rising tide lifts all boats.” Rightfully, the pandemic allowed us to question these values and now employees are questioning just what is a rising tide and do we want to experience rising tides and whether all boats are indeed being lifted by these corporate policies.

As my universe has gotten smaller, so have my relationships and sense of community. Who we let into our “pandemic bubble” defined with whom we socialized. I used to have many layers and tiers of relationships in my life, from people I would converse with daily as I waited with my kids at the bus stop to the receptionist at the office and so much in-between. Many of those layers that constitute the social fabric of one’s life went away with the pandemic. We no longer looked at people the same way for coronavirus was transmitted through people. People were seen as potential threats. And the safety with which I used to be in the world drifted away as well. Places and people became unsafe in ways that we haven’t felt universally in our lifetimes.

So what have we lost? So much I think. Yes, I get more time with my family, especially my children. I am not spending five days a week commuting into the office. However, I am not convinced that the tradeoffs are worth it . And I don’t think we have grappled with these consequences as a society nor am I convinced that we are prepared should another pandemic-like event occur. The richness and textures that existed in my social fabric pre-pandemic have been frayed and replaced with ‘non-essential’ things like television and social media. I believe that our children and our youth are mirrors to what is working and what is not in our society. And our youth are hurting in ways that are alarming but also indicative of what I am trying to capture here.

Given the current situation, what should we do? I know for me it is about being deliberate about re-engaging with the world- joining community meetings, taking an interest in civic life and work life. It is expanding who is in my post-pandemic bubble. It is taking lunch with colleagues at the office instead of eating at your desk (side note- I started having lunch with a group of attorneys when we were mandated back to the office three days a week and now we look for each other around noon on the days we are in the office. Colleagues have said that they have started looking forward to these lunches and I know I am sad when I have to miss them.). It is finding joy in another’s company not to meet an objective end but simply because. It is making eye contact and acknowledging one’s humanity when you check out at the grocery store. It is exercising these muscles that have been dormant during the pandemic and being patient with one’s self while the social fabric starts to be resown. It will take time, but I am convinced there is no other way. The alarms are ringing and we need to pay attention to what has been lost before “post-pandemic” becomes “post-apocalyptic” and the world we knew is all but lost entirely.

When Home Alone Meets Barbie, It’s Pure Magic!

Every Christmas season, I make the kids watch Home Alone with me. It’s our annual tradition. I laugh at the same jokes, know most of the movie script by heart, and cry every time Kevin locks eyes with his mom at the end. While I think it’s one of the best family movies out there, that is not the reason I watch it or insist on my family doing so. I watch it because I get to relive one of my favorite childhood memories.

It was around Thanksgiving 1990 and I was eleven. My brother and I were spending the night at one of my childhood friend’s homes. My childhood friend’s mom, also my favorite Indian Aunty, decided she was going to take us out to the movies. We loved going to this Aunty’s house because she took care of all of us as if we were her own. When she planned sleepovers, she ensured that she had all our favorite treats and foods specifically curated to the preferences of each child: the range was exceptional from making me homemade fettucine alfredo (!) to buying another friend cheese puffs and making sure my brother had chocolate ice cream. We were especially excited that evening to go to the movies.

Growing up, going to the movie theater was a real treat. The fact this Aunty took all the kids to the evening show was an even rarer experience. But the best part? Aunty treated us to all the candy, popcorn and soda we wanted! We were in heaven even before the movie began. And on top of that, the movie was Home Alone! From the minute the movie started, we were giggling and laughing and having the time of our lives. I remember looking over at Aunty during the movie to find her in hysterics over one of Kevin’s antics. I had never laughed so much in a movie. It was pure childhood magic.

So when my ten-year old daughter asked to see the new Barbie movie with one of her girlfriends yesterday, I jumped at the opportunity. I ditched my afternoon meetings, picked up the girls from summer camp and headed to the movies. The girls squealed when I said they could get what they wanted. They chose popcorn buckets bigger than their heads and slushees with ridiculous amounts of food coloring and sugar. They ran up to their seats with glee. Halfway through the movie, my daughter reached for my arm, gave it a little squeeze, and whispered how good the movie was with the biggest grin on her face. She was having the time of her life and I was so grateful to be experiencing it with her. Channeling my inner favorite Aunty, I returned my daughter’s smile and was transported to a tale of a kid left home alone, fending off two not-so-smart burglars with clever pranks and tricks, wishing for their family during Christmas. And I could feel my beloved Aunty, who sadly passed away years ago now, smiling down on me as well. Pure magic.

Conquering COVID-19

When we realized we were going to be home for the foreseeable future, my husband and I came up with a plan to conquer the COVID-19 quarantine. We sat down with our two children, ages 10 and 7, and together, developed a schedule for each day that would work for us all. 9-10 AM: breakfast and review work for the day; 10-11 AM: math, games and exercises: 11-12 PM: reading and writing, etc. Peppered throughout the day, my husband and I would tackle various work calls and meetings. We were going to maintain a kick-ass schedule and come out of the COVID-19 quarantine smarter, better, fitter, healthier and largely unaffected!

This enthusiasm lasted all but a few days, each day letting go of one more aspect of the rigid schedule. We are well into week 11 and how we started is not even close to where we are now. Long gone are the white boards setting the quote or intention of the day with another one carefully outlining the day’s color-coded schedule. I realize the foolishness and naïveté with which I had approached our initial days in quarantine let alone understanding the toll this would all take on our mental health.

Most days, my husband and I leave the kids on their own, giving them license to finish their schoolwork, to relax or as is the case most of the time, to do something in-between. While they have been relatively good about getting their daily work completed with minimal parental involvement (especially my son), most days they are done before lunch time. Much to our chagrin, our workdays do not follow my children’s school schedule requiring us to work well into the early evening.

So, while we continue to work, the kids are largely left unattended. We have stopped micromanaging their behaviors and are letting them be. And much to my surprise, they are flourishing. We are “quaranteaming” with a few neighbors who also have children and the kids have been playing in our private way for the past few months, of course following local protocols including wearing masks and social distancing. They have developed their own creative and imaginative games, they ride their scooters and bikes, and my son even managed to teach himself how to roller blade! My son has discovered his love for the piano, finding music to pop songs online and performing mini-concerts. My daughter has developed her own language with her friend next door, a combination of sounds, taps and signaling through the windows, talking to each other even on rainy days. It’s certainly not perfect but this unsupervised time buys us precious work hours in the afternoon and gives my children independence, fresh air and unstructured playtime.

As the kids discover new interests and hobbies, we have also been enjoying time as a family. In the evenings, we have taken to scooter walks around the neighborhood, relaxed homemade dinners, drawn-out nighttime routines including watching Great British Baking Show (my son’s British accent is so good!) and cuddle-time with a book. Certainly we have our difficult days and moments of complete and utter frustration with the current situation and home confinement. But, we are grateful for what we have and like so many other people, we are trying to do the best we can under these circumstances.

And when my daughter runs down the stairs after having just communicated with her friend next door in their secret language, with a wide toothy smile, and says ”I’m going outside Mommy!”, I grin as I return to my work, knowing that despite everything, my children are relatively happy and will be just fine. And so will I as I savor a few more borrowed hours of peace and quiet.

It's been Messy but it will be OK

The last time I wrote, the world was a different place. We were living life normally, going to work, school, restaurants, and bars. We were planning vacations, anticipating getaways, buying tickets for concerts and book readings, and making plans for the weekends. We were planning birthday parties and booking rentals, stressing about summer camps, nagging our children to finish their homework and practice their instruments and dances, limiting screen time, and chauffeuring our children to many activities while juggling multiple schedules simultaneously. As we end Week 4 of the Quarantine, our lives could not be more different and our former reality a distant memory.

COVID-19, more commonly known as coronavirus, forever has changed our lives. Working from home, “homeschooling” and social distancing have become the norm. Google hangouts, Zoom meetings, virtual “happy hours” and workout classes and all things digital have now replaced physical connection. Our FaceBook, Instagram and Twitter feeds are filled with memes depicting our adjustments to this new way of life. Instead of rushing around trying to make the next meeting, doctor’s appointment, baseball practice or end-of-day pickup, we are now in a digital race to fill our virtual grocery carts and secure delivery times online at Instacart, Whole Foods, Amazon or the plethora of other delivery services thriving during this pandemic.

And let’s not be mistaken, I’m talking about those of us who are privileged and have the luxury of jobs that allow us to work from home (thank you to the frontline healthcare workers who are risking their lives daily for us!), computers for the whole family, functioning WiFI, and resources to stockpile our food and paper goods reserves. On my google chats and group texts, I lament almost daily about balancing working and childcare, but there are those among us who are struggling with so much more including food, housing and job insecurity.

While the last few weeks have been a blur, I am grateful for all that I have including my health, family, job, shelter and food. There is an underlying current of anxiety, uncertainty and uneasiness that has permeated home and work life. Some have called this “collective trauma” and I couldn’t agree more. On the other hand, this pandemic has forced us to slow down, take stock of what is most important in life, reassess how we handle healthcare and the environment, and open our eyes and hearts to those who have been suffering all along. I hope that we as a society can make some deep, lasting changes to broken systems after this is all done. It’s been a messy journey thus far. But it will be OK.

New Year Intention- Be (the) Light

Happy new year and new decade! Welcome to 2020. I started a tradition of setting a new year intention a few years ago to help ground and guide me for the new year. Anybody who knows me knows how much I love new things: new changes, new chances, new opportunities, and new beginnings. Speaking as a true Aries, I love beginning new things and setting new year’s resolutions was no exception. These resolutions were your conventional ones of losing weight, adopting a healthier diet, exercising more and pursuing my dreams with vigor. As with all new things, life would quickly mask these resolutions and they would be a distant memory by February.

Instead of resolutions, I’ve found that setting a carefully crafted intention to be both fulfilling and rewarding. It’s also easier to uphold and maintain an intention than a resolution. There’s something more grand and meaningful in an intention. A new year intention provides me with focus and clarity about my goals for the upcoming year and is a way for me to remember the things in my life that are the most significant. My new year intention becomes my mantra, something that I can recite daily to remind myself of my purpose. I try to pick intentions that can overlap the personal and the professional spheres, that have multiple applications and meanings, and that provide direction for the year ahead.

This year, my new year intention is to be (the) light. As the oldest child and now a mother, wife, and lawyer, worry, anxiety and stress have always been my middle name. For most of my life, bedtime would be riddled with anxiety, my sleep restless and interrupted. This year, I want to be light in my mind and with my thoughts. I want to be light with myself, to not take myself so seriously. Simply put, I want to lighten up and enjoy the ride.

Gandhi had once said “I must reduce myself to zero” and with being light, my hope is that I can reduce my self, my ego, to zero. Through mindfulness and meditation, I hope that I can reduce my inner critic, my conditioning and societal pressures and demands down to nothing such that my true self can emerge.

I want to be light in my consumption, from food to consumer goods to unnecessary waste. While of course I want to lose weight, this new year intention is much more than that. Being light to me means consuming less, being mindful of the resources I am using, and trying to minimize my carbon footprint and harm to the planet. In addition, I want to be light in my use of social media and to not depend on it as much as I have these past few years.

Lastly, be the light comes from my desire to be a positive source of inspiration for my children. In the daily grind of life and work, it is easy to forget how much influence we have over our children and how much they try to emulate and please us. My intention this year is to be the light for children, Kabir and Navya, so that they too can shine.

As we break into the new year, I wish you all love, peace, health, wellness and most of all, light.

Flashbacks of Talking on the Phone

Last night, my son ran up to me as I came home and said he was meeting his friend on Google docs at 6:15PM (what?). Through his school portal, the kids are able to use the Google platform safely, sharing documents with other Cambridge public school students. Kabir’s technology teacher encourages students to share their writing with one another so they can provide feedback, revisions and suggestions to one another on their projects. So it came as as surprise that these boys had found another purpose for the editing feature in Google Docs. Genius!

As my son logged onto the portal and opened his document that he had shared with his friend, he squealed when his friend appeared. “Hi Kabir” his friend wrote on the screen. Kabir wrote back. They engaged in a “conversation” online- talking about football, sharing pics of cool players and puppies (so cute!), asking when the other was going to eat dinner and discussing other topics. And all the while, Kabir had the biggest grin on his face.

I had a flashback to sitting on my bed, deeply engrossed in conversation with my friend, phone in hand. Much to my dad’s dismay, I would tie up the phone line (this was before call waiting was available or affordable!) for hours on end, little spats ensuing over phone time. Eventually, conversations migrated to AOL messenger (do you remember when that was a thing?) but the excitement of talking to friends through different media never waned.

Kabir writes “Where did you go?” on the screen. Waiting, he turns to me and says, “I guess he is eating dinner.” A few minutes go by and his friend writes back, “Have to run Kabir- need to eat. Bye.” With a smile on his face, Kabir writes back “Bye, see you tomorrow.” As I watch my son, I remember that feeling hanging up on my friends after we had exhausted all the important topics. Despite decades between experiences, not much has really changed. And there’s great comfort in that.

Do You Still Sing in the Shower?

I had a flashback a few weeks ago about singing in the shower when I was much younger. I used to spend close to 30 minutes in the shower, belting out tunes and secretly thinking (and hoping) that I would be the next superstar. I would waiver between wanting to be the next Madonna, Cindy Lauper or Whitney Houston, Indian-style. After my shower shows, I would secretly re-enact being discovered, my hidden talent finally revealed to the world. Much to my chagrin and unfortunately for my teenage self, this was never my reality. But I started thinking about these small moments of solitude that I used to enjoy and how these moments are now stolen by none other than my smartphone.

I know, it’s sad, but it’s the truth. Not that I take the phone in the shower with me, but I’m finding that my mind doesn’t wonder anymore the way it used to. Any free moment these days is taken up by my phone, especially social media. It’s like a nervous tick! Being alone with my thoughts and feelings is slowly becoming a rare commodity.

I recall sitting in class, looking out the window, lost in thought. I honestly can’t remember the last time I did that. I remember sitting in the back of the car, listening to old Telugu songs, tuning out to my own thoughts as I looked out the window. Now, on long car journeys, my kids are watching movies or shows on their iPads.

So this past weekend, with dear friends, I tried to stay present. That meant that I didn’t reach for my phone during lulls in conversation. That meant that as I spent yesterday at the Head of the Charles, I walked and biked, absorbed the sunshine on my skin and got lost in my thoughts. Last night, I played with my kids and engaged in some fun dinner conversation. And this morning, as I got in the shower, an old favorite came to mind and I slowly hummed the tune, returning to my younger self.

How do you stay present in the ever-increasing world of distraction?

Perfect, perfect, perfect

My fourth-grade son was completing his math homework on the computer last night while at our dining room table. I was cooking dinner. He then said “Uh-oh” and started crying. I ran over, completely perplexed as to why. He then explained that he had answered the problem wrong too many times and that the computer program finally marked it as wrong. His score ended up being 98 out of 100. He was upset that he had missed a perfect 100 by two points.

My immediate reaction was to give him a huge hug, to say “don’t worry!”, then give a pep talk about the importance of mistakes and how nobody is perfect and then to lecture about the point of homework is to practice… Clearly, I was unprepared. In my attempts to make him feel better, I had a case of verbal diarrhea! I kept thinking about what had we been teaching my son such that he felt compelled to cry over a two-point deduction? What messages and signals were we subliminally sending him such that only perfection was accepted in our house? My heart ached for him.

I remembered all too well the feeling of coming home with near-perfect, but not perfect, test scores. How I felt like an utter failure for my mistakes. How I was met with silence, and a look, that signaled disapproval from my parents. And how scared I was of not doing well academically. I vowed then to not do the same with my children. Fast-forward decades later and my son is feeling the same way that I felt as a little girl.

A 2017 study called “Perfectionism Is Increasing Over Time” finds that young people are more burdened than ever by pressure from others, including from parents. Perfectionism, the study’s authors say, “is a mix of excessively high personal standards (“I have to excel at everything I do”) and intense self-criticism (“I’m a complete failure if I fall short”).”

As I sat there with my son, dumbfounded by his reaction, wracking my brain for all the subliminal messages we had been sending him, I thought to a Washington Post article I had read about how the pressures of perfection on children started with the parents. In this article, they claim that the “parental push to raise an uber-successful child has never been more keenly felt, so much so that researchers have a name for it: “child-contingent self-esteem,” or the tendency for a parent to base their own self-worth on the success of their child. Parents now spend more time than ever on school work with their children, while time spent simply hanging out has declined. Meanwhile, between 1986 and 2006, the number of kids who said their parents surveilled their every move doubled.” YIKES!!! I know deep down that I do NOT want to be that parent.

Combine parental pressures with social pressures to appear perfect in every aspect of our lives (think Instagram, Facebook, etc.) and you have, dare I say, a perfect storm in creating depression, anxiety, desperation, suicide, drug abuse, and eating disorders. The pressures are real and I want so much to protect my children from them. In the Washington Post article, they say that while most parents say they want their children to be happy, what they really want is a high GPA. Having gone through my own feelings of inadequacy and low self-esteem, I can say honestly that I truly want my children to be happy. Taking that one step further, I want nothing more than for them to be happy and fulfilled.

So I’m making huge efforts to lay off criticism in a hurtful form, to have my actions match my words, to express empathy and understanding instead of stress, anger or irritability. Above all else, to validate my son’s experiences so that he grows into the person he was always meant to be. And hopefully by validating, acknowledging and understanding my own limitations as a parent, I can start to heal that little girl inside as well.

Our favorite family pastime

Last night, my children, husband and I cuddled on our sofa and watched old videos. My kids are 6 and 9 so it’s not that they are SO old, but this has become a favorite family pastime of ours. We all have our favorites, and for different reasons. The kids delight in seeing themselves when they were younger and my husband and I love seeing how much the kids have grown and how far we have come as a family.

While nostalgia fills the air, this tradition of ours also reminds us just how precious life is and what really matters. This is especially true as we have lost my husband’s mother last year. The first few times we engaged in this pastime, we had to skip over those videos that featured my mother-in-law. The pain was too raw and the feelings were a bit too much and too soon for my husband. There is one particular video that has us in stitches every single time we watch it, and in that video, my mother-in-law features prominently. Last night, while I gave my husband a gentle squeeze, we watched this video in its entirety. We laughed and rejoiced at the memory, at her memory, and were ever-grateful that we had captured such a precious moment on film.

And I needed this reminder. I find this pastime especially helpful during emotional or difficult times. When I’m caught up in the trivial, seeing my children delight in their younger selves grounds me and centers me in a way that few other things can. Experiencing our past together as a family is especially rewarding and reminds me of who I was as a person and who I am now. I especially love hearing my daughter squeal “look what she is doing!” about her younger self and my son basking in the love and adoration that can be felt from the plethora of videos we took of him before his little sister came along. For each of us, we are reminded of some very important and fundamental truths of ourselves and it is these reminders that will help sustain this tradition for years to come.

What pastimes have you developed as a family? Are there any rituals that you perform that center and ground you? Please share!

"Toot-er"

Last night, as I looked across the dining table, both kids doubled over in fits of laughter, I couldn’t help but relish the moment. Normally I would have been less than enthused that we were wasting time. We were behind schedule; dinner was later which would mean that baths would be delayed with bedtime pushed deeper into the night. But the laughter was that infectious one, the kind that overtakes your whole body, and one that, despite your mind trying to take over, just brings the biggest smile to your face. We laughed and rejoiced. And I couldn’t help but join them.

What was so funny you may ask? I told the kids how finally I was going to meet the first-grade student that I had been tutoring for the past year in his classroom. I was excited to put a face with a name and voice that I had talked to every Friday morning for months now. I told them how we were hosting a year-end celebration with his class and that I was bringing snacks. Then I said, “you know, because I’m his tutor.” The kids lost it then. What they heard was that I was a “toot-er”. Or as my son explained, one who “toots”.

As I sat there watching them in their happiness, laughing along with them, and recounting it later with them while putting them to bed, I couldn’t help but think that this is what life is about. Life doesn’t get much better than this. I was thankful that I was present enough to not only accept this moment for what it was, but also, to enjoy it with my two favorite little humans.

Hanging up

I had to call my son at his after school program a few years ago. I wanted to check in on him and see how he was feeling. This was the first time that we had spoken on the phone without a family member on the other side. It was strange to hear his voice. He was a little surprised, but started chatting to me. And at the end of the conversation, I said “Bye Kabir” and he said “Bye Mommy” and then nothing happened. We did that a few more times and then I realized that he didn’t want to hang up on me. Something in him prevented him from wanting to hang up. Finally I said, “It’s OK Kabir. I love you. I am going to hang up the phone now” and I did.

A few months ago, I called my daughter’s classroom to talk to her and the same thing happened. We got to the end of our conversation and she didn’t want to hang up on me either. I don’t know whether she didn’t know what to do or something felt wrong about it, but she had a hard time with it. I thought it had to do with my kids not wanting to hang up on their mother, that they didn’t want to show me any disrespect. But just today, as I tutored a first grader in Boston online and over the phone (through an organization called TutorMate), I went to hang up and the same thing happened. My student didn’t want to hang up on me. I finally had to say, “Ok [name], I hope you have a good weekend. I am going to hang up the phone now” and then I did.

Have any of you ever experienced this? On some fundamental level, I think that what these children are responding to is how abrupt and perhaps unnatural it is to hang up on somebody. Or perhaps I’m just reading into this behavior. Regardless, I wish I could have stayed on the phone longer with my student today (and I wish the same with my children months and years ago). And perhaps my student not wanting to hang up on me means that a part of him (and them) felt the same way.

A Rat Race That Cannot Be Won

“I’m ready to lean OUT.”

Sarah Buckley Friedberg

A Facebook rant by a Needham, MA mother of three ends with this: “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to lean OUT.” Since writing her viral post, Sarah Buckley Friedberg garnered over 79,000 likes, 18,000 comments and 72,000 shares. She certainly has hit a cord, mostly among similarly situated, privileged (I’d argue, predominantly white) women and mothers.

What is it about her post that resonates with so many people? I’m exhausted reading the post, let alone being a working mother of two trying to achieve all that she talks about. Society’s expectation that we must be put together, skinny and fit, well-rested, well-adjusted, well-groomed, ambitious, financially contributing members of our families coupled with raising kids who are well-fed, well-balanced and well-rounded (be proficient in at least one sport, instrument and other activity), curious, high-achieving explorers is simply impossible and unfair. It is an unspoken truth that the same is not, and will never be, expected of the opposite sex.

I love this part of Ms. Buckley’s post:

"Recycle. Be Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy, the birthday planner, the poop doula (seriously when will this end), the finder of lost things, the moderator of fights. Be fun. Be firm. Read books. Have dance parties."

I’ve written a lot about this but my solution to these ridiculous, untenable societal expectations is to ignore them as much as possible. Of course, I’m susceptible to them as much as the next woman is but the more we try to achieve these unrealistic, soul-crushing, goals, the more will be expected of us. It’s a rat race that cannot be won.

One of the reasons I started Messy Bliss a few years ago was to encourage us to question these notions, to embrace the messy imperfections and to find joy and happiness in all of it. Let’s cultivate a counterculture of being who we are, strong women who strengthen, support and promote one another and delight in and celebrate each other’s messiness unapologetically. The more that we can do that, the less these expectations will matter to us all and the less pressure we will all feel. So let’s do more of the leaning out and just being instead.

Turning 40

I lay in bed on the last day of my 30s suffering from insomnia. I listened to my family as they slept. I walked around our apartment in Rome. The minutes crept on and there was no denying it anymore that I was going to be 40 come the new day. This day had arrived a lot sooner than I expected. I had built up this day in my head for a while now, mostly looking at this age with dread and lamenting. In my head, my thoughts went like this, “I can’t believe you are so old,” “How did 40 arrive this quickly?”. “Wait, I haven’t reached my goal weight yet,” “This is not where I thought I’d be in my career,” and so on and so forth. You get the point. I was approaching 40 with feelings of mourning (mostly of my youth), foreboding and unease.

As the sun started to rise, my eyes slowly drifted asleep, I realized that I had been approaching this day wrong. I should have listened to my husband who always seems to be so sensible and mature given these situations. I alone define myself. I alone have the power to make of the moment and feel of the moment what I want. While my age and the lapse of time are simply out of my control, what I think about it, what I feel about it, are solely within my wheelhouse.

So as I woke up, I was greeted with the delightful songs of my kids singing me happy birthday, kisses from my husband, messages from my parents and brother and the sun shining into our beautiful apartment. I was blessed and felt beyond grateful. As I read the beautiful cards my family wrote and sat watching dear friends from around the world sharing beautiful moments of my life, I was reminded of all that I had experienced, all that I had lived, and all that I am.

The expectations I had had for this day slowly released their grasp on me and instead, feelings of acceptance and love embraced me. It turns out that 40 is not that bad afterall. And there’s some relief in knowing that.

Welcoming Spring with a New Look

Welcome to my new site! With spring around the corner, it’s time to refresh, reboot and renew. I listened to one of my favorite podcasts, How I Built This by Guy Raz, the other day on my way home from Springfield. Anthony Casalena talked about how he built Squarespace in his dorm room at the University of Maryland back in 2003. I was intrigued. I started poking around and discovered that his website is much easier and more intuitive for building websites, including blogs, than the service I had been using. I was looking for a website creation platform, or a “publishing platform” as Casalena calls it, that had more clean, modern templates. Finding Squarespace and refreshing my website is a great way to bring in a new season.

There’s something to this notion of “spring cleaning”. Especially living in a cold-weather climate where hibernation tendencies seem to abound, the opportunity to welcome the warmth with a clean slate is especially enticing. How do you approach spring? How do you come out of hibernation? What will you do to start fresh this spring?

New Year Intention- Letting Go

Happy New Year 2019!  I’ve been anxious leading up to the start of the new year because this year I will enter a new decade. Frankly, this freaks me out! How did almost 4 decades go by? How am I here already? I have so much more to do, see, and experience. As I go down the rabbit hole of questions and self-reflection, my husband gently brings me back to reality. 40 is the new 30 according to him (and the rest of the country it seems). If you can’t change it, embrace it. It is what it is. C’est la vie as the French would say.

So as we enter the new year, there is no better intention for me than letting go.  Letting go of expectations- of what I had expected to achieve and accomplish by now, of what I thought my life would look like and of what others expected of me. Letting go of negativity, toxicity, ill feelings and low tendencies.  Letting go of the small things.

What I intend to do is to embrace the new year with excitement, joy and healthy anticipation.  To embrace the “swerve” as Michelle Obama calls it and enjoy the ride. This is my ride and only my ride to go on so what others think of me is irrelevant.  I will surround myself with positive, well-meaning people who want the best for me.  And I shall focus on the bigger things- the people and things that matter.  

These are lofty ambitions, but a new year brings an opportunity to reassess, reframe and reposition you in your own life.  To make small adjustments to your life such that you can achieve more happiness, joy and fulfillment.  For me, this means letting go and embracing all that life can be in a new decade!

What are your intentions for the new year?

Post-Marathon Blues

On October 7th, I experienced one of the best days of my life when I finished the Chicago marathon. It was a magical day, from beginning to end, and one that I will replay in my mind for years, and even decades, to come. In an earlier post, I discuss my second chance at training for a marathon, a goal that was 10 years in the making. And on this overcast, fall day in Chicago, this dream-goal of mine became a reality. I crossed the finish line with my hands up high in a sign of triumph.  Nothing could take that perma grin off of my face...

...until after I accomplished this goal. After spending the better part of 2018 training and gearing up for this moment, I've spent the last 6 weeks in a slump despite another major positive change in my life (a topic for another day, but I've recently changed jobs). I've started referring to this period as the post-marathon blues and a period for which I was wholly unprepared.

While in this post-marathon haze of feeling down and out, I've had to re-calibrate my mindset and refocus my energy. Here are some of my tips to combat your own post-achievement blues:

1. Don't quit cold turkey.  After running a marathon and training for months, it was easy to stop running for a little while (and my legs thanked me for the respite).  However, I miss running- the discipline, the routine, the feeling.  Even though it might be difficult to sustain motivation, quitting cold turkey whatever you have been working so hard towards automatically lends itself to feelings of loss, both of purpose and of a goal.  So it's best to taper down whatever it is you have been doing, unless you are burned out from it.  In my case, I love running outside so I've been running outside on the weekends despite the cold.  And I just joined an indoor running studio so I can run on a "special" treadmill that is kinder to my legs.

2. Re-focus on other areas of your life. While I loved training for the marathon, by the end, it was all-consuming. I now have my weekends back! I can sleep in on Sundays! I can indulge in a glass of wine (or two) on a Saturday evening. I can spend some quality time with my children and husband. By trying to focus on the areas of my life that I had been neglecting, I've been able to emerge from this slump by redirecting my attention to these areas.

3. Set another goal. I approached the Chicago marathon thinking that my goal was to complete one marathon in my life. In the past six weeks, I've realized that what I miss so much is working hard towards something. And for me, these goals tend to be athletic-related. Having completed one marathon, I'm reassessing the "only one marathon" notion and thinking of training for something else. In coming up with a new goal, I've tried to have fun in the process. I'm also discovering new things about myself and my resolve to compete and constantly improve.

4. Meditate. Doesn't it seem that everything these days can be cured by meditation? You have weight issues, meditate. You feel down, meditate.  You feel lost and unmotivated, meditate.  And the list goes on.  But I just started to meditate (read my post on the importance of creating a morning routine) in earnest and I can honestly say that I feel different when I am meditating.  Even if it's for 5 minutes a day.  So when all else fails, meditate 😉

Have you ever felt low or depressed after having completed a major achievement?  What strategies and tactics worked for you?  Please share your thoughts below!

The Battle with Tech

We are surrounded by tech.  People are obsessed with their devices, from iPhones to tablets to Bluetooth this and that, we cannot escape this thing called technology. On the subway, on the street, in the car, on the bus, at work, at home, on the plane, in airports, in bathrooms, in Starbucks and grocery lines, on football fields, and in stadiums and at concerts, people are glued to their screens.  It’s almost like a zombie effect has taken over our society and all you can see are the masses, hunched over, eyes glazed, emotionless, staring into the ether that is their screen.

Long gone is when you find yourself in an elevator striking up a random conversation.  Or making eye contact with the person behind you in the grocery line. Or exchanging pleasantries with your neighbor.  In our attempts to be more connected, available and up-to-date, we have lost touch with people, places and happenings right in front of us and of our physical realities….

You’ve heard me rant and rave about this before. But here’s why I have a bee in my bonnet. Reading the newspaper a few Sundays ago, I came across this article about how “Silicon Valley Nannies are Phone Police for their Kids”.  You’d have to live under a rock to know the damage that excessive screen time can have on a child’s development.  Recently, there’s been talk that the very people who create, sell and market the use of technology in Silicon Valley expressly prohibit their own children from viewing any type of screen whatsoever.  Now that’s unsettling. But these Silicon Valley types and those with means are taking it one step further and hiring nannies to expressly police and protect their children from screens altogether.

The articles goes on to talk about the hypocrisy of these parents who limit or deny screen time while simultaneously being glued to the so-called criminal devices themselves. They are addicted and need to hire outside help to prevent that very addiction within their offspring.  Now, I get it. If you’re ever out to dinner and look around, you might see that family where everybody is on their respective device, barely engaging in a conversation.  Or you may see a group of teenagers messaging their friends, who all happen to be sitting right next to them at their very table.

But have we taken this all a little too far to now be hiring nannies specifically for the purpose of playing tech police?

And taking this one step further, is this just another way that the privileged will leave those who are underprivileged behind? Yet another learning gap that will have to be surmounted in order to be successful in the future?

It all seems a little preposterous to me.  But, these are the times we are living in.  Here’s what we do in our household to battle what ails us of tech:

1. Limit screen time to 20-25 minutes/ day. They are allowed to watch 1 show on PBS Kids and generally no commercials. There are a few caveats to this rule. Because of where we live, during the warmer months, if the kids play outside with their friends after school or summer camp, no screen time that day (mostly because there’s no time).  The kids happily forgo their screen time to play outside and thankfully, this has never been a problem.  If we are running late in our evening routine, no screen time.  We usually make this up with reading extra books before bed.  If we have any activity that runs later into the evening (an event at school, piano lessons, etc), no screen time.  Of course, we also make exceptions the other way when there is a major sports event going on (Go Sox! Go Djokovic!) or if there is a special I want the kids to watch. Ironically enough, my parents had limited my “TV-time” to 30 minutes a day back in the 80s when I was growing up so I feel OK with using this as the allotted time period.  The American Academy of Pediatrics recommends 1 hour of screen time per day for kids ages 2-5 years and kids ages 6 and above to placing “consistent limits on the time spent using media”.

2. Prefer the TV to a tablet or phone.  We have found that there is something more addictive to a personal device versus something being displayed on the television.  Plus it’s easier to turn the TV off instead of wrangling a device from the kids hand.

3. If poor behavior, no screen time.  Screen time is something to be earned and is a privilege. We are trying to dispel the notion that screen time is ubiquitous with being a kid or with life in general.

4. Do as I do. My husband and I are hyper aware of our phone usage around our children. When I pick up my phone around my kids, I usually announce what I am doing- “I’m looking up the weather” or “I need to check a work email” so the kids know that I have a purpose for looking at my screen. This has taken lots of getting used to but now, when we enter our home, we really make a concerted effort to be off of our phones. It’s certainly not easy and I can vouch that the addiction is real.

What rules have you adopted in your house to curb tech addiction? What have you found to work and not work? Do you have a nanny that serves as a tech police? Please share!

Establishing a Morning Routine

I’ve been all out of sorts lately and feeling out of my element. In one of life’s contradictions, while I love change and embrace the thought of it, with such change also comes feelings of anxiety and instability.  As I began a new job last week, I realized that I had grown accustomed to my former morning routine, my established way of beginning my day.  Now that I am commuting to work (in a car!) more frequently, figuring out a new job in a new role, and adjusting to the limited daylight, my body and mind are revolting.

Routine by definition means “a sequence of actions regularly followed; a fixed program.”

So if you have kids, a job, a spouse, or anything else that gets you out of bed, chances are that you do the same thing every morning.  Whether it’s brushing your teeth, drinking coffee, reading the newspaper, checking your emails, waking up the kids (or being woken up by the kids on a regular basis), taking a shower, these are all simple routines you have probably established and just do without thinking about it.  But when I refer to a morning routine, I’m not talking about just performing these types of tasks.

I’m talking about the deliberate stringing of tasks (whether they are for hygienic purposes or not), that in the aggregate create a morning ritual.  When completed, a morning routine empowers one to begin the day with purpose and intention.  It means waking up at the same time every morning, doing the same things in the same order, on a daily basis.  Obviously there is room for slip-ups or variation based on what is happening in reality, but for the most part, morning routines are performed to bring some calm, control and discipline to one’s life.

As luck would have it, as I’ve been floundering and trying to get my bearings after a week on the new job, the New York Times published this article about best practices for morning routines employed by highly successful people.  Here is a summary (including some of my additional thoughts):

1. Set your wake-up time after experimenting with it.  Figure out what time works for you.  If you want to exercise and do other things in the morning before you need to wake up the kids or go to work, then you may need more time and to wake up earlier (see #2 below).  Change your wake-up time gradually.  I’ve read changing in 15-30 minute increments a couple of weeks at each new time until you get to your desired wake-up time works best. For example, if you wake up at 7AM now, for the next few weeks, wake up at 6:30AM.  How do you feel?  If you need more time, then in a couple of weeks, change your wake-up time to 6:00AM.  And keep doing this until you’ve reached your ideal wake-up time.

2. Make time for what energizes you.  It can be many different things including exercising, yoga, meditation, etc.  For my husband, it’s making a cup of coffee and sipping it gingerly while reading the news and catching up on email.  I’ve noticed that when he doesn’t do this, he is more frazzled.  If you decide to wake up earlier (#1 above), then in the “extra” time you’ve gained, start doing the most rewarding things first to keep you motivated.

3. Create a sleep routine (or a night routine).  The quote from Ben Franklin comes to mind- “Early to bed early to rise makes a man  healthy, wealthy and wise.”  Try to go to bed at a reasonable hour and the same reasonable hour every night.  There is a direct connection between your sleep routine and your morning routine.

4. Adapt your routine to different situations.  If you travel frequently, create a morning routine that you can use while traveling.  Or if your kids have a terrible night, adapt your morning routine enough to allow yourself to feel grounded for the rest of the day despite the disruption.  Life happens, so there’s no need to be so rigid and dogmatic with your morning ritual.  Know the different parts of your morning routine, how long the different tasks take and what is absolutely essential to help you have a better day.

5. It’s OK to miss your routine.  It’s OK to not be perfect in establishing your routine.  It’s like a diet.  Just because you have one slip-up doesn’t mean you can’t get back on track the next day.  Or the day after that.  Remember why you want to create a morning routine and what the intent and purpose behind it is.  And then give yourself a break when you miss it.

I’m looking forward to experimenting in the coming weeks in creating a new morning ritual to bring more harmony, peace and calm to my life.

Do you have a morning routine?  Is there something that you do in the morning that is unique?  I love that Marie Kondo, the author of “The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up” immediately opens the windows to let in fresh air.

Heroes and Villains

In almost every movie or novel, there is a hero and a villain, a protagonist and an antagonist, a person who saves and a person to be saved, or a combination of any of the aforementioned. The time that I spent fighting sexual violence in conflict with Physicians for Human Rights ("PHR") is marked by this dichotomy. The good versus the bad.  Those who are harmed and those who harm. Obviously, it's not so black and white and there's much gray that resides here. But in the last six months, the hero and the villain of my story of combatting sexual violence have come to the fore.

Today, my hero, Dr. Mukwege, and Nadia Murad both won the Nobel Peace Prize "for their campaigns to end the use of mass rape as a weapon of war". Apropos to the person he is, Dr. Mukwege was in the operating room at Panzi Hospital performing a surgery when he learned of this news.

I met Dr. Mukwege almost four years ago as I started my job at PHR. PHR and its Program on Sexual Violence in Conflict Zones was in deep collaboration with Dr. Mukwege and his Panzi Hospital to create a cross-sectoral network of doctors, nurses, law enforcement and judges to more effectively prosecute crimes of sexual violence. We met in Washington DC in October 2013 as Dr. Mukwege was advocating for more resources and political support for his hospital in the Kivu Province of the Democratic Republic of the Congo. It was an uphill battle for Dr. Mukwege to get the attention of the global community for sexual violence and this small region in Eastern Congo, but very personal. As we sat down at dinner, he discussed his motivations, his experiences and his dreams for his country. Here was a man, a MAN, who understood and promoted the rights of women. He understood that women were human, that women were equal, that women were to be celebrated and that women needed to be protected. Why were his views so very different than the men that he was surrounded by? Over the course of the next few years, I visited Panzi Hospital in Bukavu, DRC and met the many survivors who were helped by Dr. Mukwege and his incredible team. I visited Dr. Mukwege in his home and met his family.  He is as authentic as they come. He is real and is good.

But every hero needs a villain, every protagonist needs an antagonist. Earlier this year, I opened my email to find that one of my former interns at PHR was charged with child sex crimes. Joel Davis spent his gap year between high school and college with us in the Boston office of PHR. I had known this young man personally and went to many lunches and walks with him.  I had provided much support, guidance and mentorship to this then-teenager. He would go on to found an organization called Youth to End Sexual Violence. He was granted access to well-known international organizations including the United Nations.  He was the youth ambassador for the highly publicized Global Summit to End Sexual Violence in 2014. He was friends with Zainab Bangura who served as the United Nations Special Representative for Sexual Violence from 2012-2017. We had been in touch over the years. He was my friend on Facebook. We had discussed his pieces for the Columbia student newspaper over messenger.

I couldn't sleep for nights. I read the complaint. It was damning. How did this happen? What did we miss? He claimed to have been subject to sexual abuse as a child. And in this regard, perhaps demonizing him is incorrect because of the cycle of abuse. But it's hard not to do especially knowing full well that he deeply understood the consequences of his actions and the impact he would have on these children's lives. He had studied sexual violence, its impact on survivors.  He had met countless victims of sexual violence (and allegedly was one), both domestically and internationally.  He became a subject-matter expert on sexual violence. He founded an organization particularly for youth and ending sexual violence.  Beneath the disguise of credibility and legitimacy, his actions towards these children seemed especially cruel.

So as I rejoice today about Dr. Mukwege's well-deserved accomplishment, I am reminded that there is still much work to be done to combat sexual violence. I am grateful that heroes exist in everyday life and I am fortunate to have met one of them. However, I am deeply aware that villains exist everywhere as well.