Hi Reader, Ria told me about a dinner with friends. She had decided, quietly, to eat lightly that night. Then one friend raised an eyebrow at her plate. Another said, "Oh come on, it is Friday, live a little." And within minutes Ria was eating and drinking things she had not even wanted, just to make the looks and the comments stop. The next morning she felt awful, and not because of the food. Because she had handed the decision to people who were not the ones who would wake up in her body. I told her about something that protects me effortlessly, and it is not willpower. I am vegetarian. Imagine someone at a table pushing a meat dish at me, insisting, teasing, telling me I am missing out. How hard do I have to fight to resist it? Not at all. There is no struggle, because there is no doubt. I do not stand in front of it negotiating with myself. I simply do not eat it. And because I am so clear, the people around me are clear too. Nobody seriously tries to force it on a vegetarian. They sense the line, and they respect it. That is the whole secret. It was never about how tempting the food was. It was about how clear I am on the inside. When you are clear, the comments slide off. When you are shaky, the smallest nudge tips you over, because some part of you was looking for a reason to give in anyway. And underneath Ria's shakiness was the oldest pressure in the world. What will people say.(Log kya khenge?) There is a saying I love: the biggest disease is worrying what others will think. (Dunya mein sab se bada rog, ke kya khenge log?) And here is the joke buried inside it. If we spend our lives wondering what people think of us, well, those people are mostly busy wondering what others think of them. There is no end to it.(Log hamare bareme kya sochenge? agar yeah bhi hum sochenge, to woh log kya sochnge? hahah)) There is an old story about a man walking with his donkey. When he walks beside it, people call him a fool for not riding. When he rides it, they call him cruel to the animal. When they both walk, they call him an idiot for not using it at all. Whatever he does, someone has a comment. So you may as well choose based on what is true for you, because the comments were always going to come either way. This is not about becoming rigid, or rude. It is about being so quietly clear that you no longer need anyone's permission, and no longer flinch at anyone's opinion. One small thing to try this week. Before your next meal with other people, decide one thing in advance, just for you, and hold it lightly but firmly. Not as a rule to announce, just a quiet knowing. If a comment comes, you do not have to argue or explain. "I am good, thank you" is a complete sentence. Notice how different it feels to choose from clarity instead of pressure. Finding that inner clarity, the kind that does not need to defend itself, is deep work, and it is far easier with someone walking beside you. It is most of what I do, quietly, with a few women at a time. Ria was never weak at that table. She had simply not yet decided, on the inside, what she actually wanted. Once she did, the table lost its power. So will yours. You were never the problem. Dhaval Two ways to go deeper when you are ready: |
Health and life coaching for high-achieving women who feel depleted. Author of Sleep Like a Baby. Subscribe to my newsletter here
Hi Reader, I want to leave you with the one thing that, more than any meal or any workout, decides whether a woman keeps this up for life or quietly lets it go in a few months. Somewhere in the middle of our work together, Ria started to disappear into it. Every dinner became a negotiation. Every social evening became a problem to manage. She turned down invitations she would have loved, because the food might not be "right." She was doing everything correctly, and she was becoming smaller,...
Hi Reader, Ria loved one particular exercise class. It eased her, it cleared her head, she always left feeling better. And yet she had stopped going, and she was afraid to return. What had happened was this. Somewhere along the way she had started pushing. Adding sessions, stacking hard workouts back to back, because a quiet voice told her that more must mean faster. And her body had pushed back. An ache that would not settle, a small injury. Now the thing she loved felt dangerous. Underneath...
Hi Reader, A small thing happened to Ria that she almost dismissed, and I want to tell you about it, because it matters more than any number on a scale. Two of her friends, separately, told her she looked different. Lighter, somehow. Brighter. And here is the part that stunned her. The scale had barely moved. Her clothes fit only slightly differently. By the measure she had been taught to trust, almost nothing had changed. So what were her friends seeing? Think about a great actor playing two...