Sorry, Not Sorry: the power of owning who you are

Dun Dun Dun.....it's me!

Intro

Hello, everyone! I’M BACK! Did you miss me? Because I sure missed you all!

I’ve decided to step away from the narratives for a while and get back to writing about what truly matters to me—mental health and deep life stuff. That’s the real me. Writing about these topics makes me feel like I’m making a positive impact on others, and I love playing with words to express these thoughts.

Over the time I’ve been away, I had a ton of homework, tests, and even a speech to prepare for. But I also had some free time, which I spent reading. I believe all the words I absorbed while reading can really help me with this blog post today.

So, this entry is all about apologies, and I want to start by giving a genuine one: I’m really sorry for being MIA for so long. Honestly, it’s been way too long, and I truly missed sharing my thoughts with you. But I’m back now, and I’m committed to updating regularly!

Without further ado, let’s dive into the topic.

How many times a day do you find yourself saying "sorry," even when you don't really mean it? Not because you've done something wrong, but because you feel like you should apologize. Apologizing for taking up space, having an opinion, using someone's time, or setting a boundary.

We’ve been conditioned to believe that politeness equals apologizing. We’ve been taught that, in order to keep the peace and be likable or attractive in the eyes of others, we must shrink ourselves. But what if this constant apologizing is actually holding us back?

When and Why Apologies Become a Reflex

There’s a big difference between a genuine apology and the automatic “sorry” we throw out without thinking. Apologizing when you’ve hurt someone you love is necessary—it shows accountability and care. But apologizing simply because you asked a question, spoke up, or needed something? That’s self-sabotage.

Many people who struggle with people-pleasing have made apologizing their default reaction. They've tucked it away in their back pocket and started apologizing for things that don’t require guilt. It’s a small habit, but it slowly makes you appear meek and chips away at your confidence.

Here are my three reasons why you should stop over-apologizing:

1. It diminishes your worth.

Constantly saying “sorry” when you haven’t done anything wrong can make you seem uncertain and weak.

2. It weakens the value of your words.

Words are powerful, and they should be treated with respect. If you apologize too often, your real apologies lose meaning. When you genuinely need to express remorse, they might not be taken as seriously.

3. It teaches others how to treat you.

If you constantly apologize for existing or asserting yourself, people will assume you don’t have boundaries. They’ll treat your needs as optional, and you’ll become a doormat if you let them.

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I see this in my friends sometimes. My love language is teasing, and I enjoy it when my friends tease me back—it’s fun, lighthearted banter. But occasionally, a friend will stop mid-conversation and say, “Just kidding, sorry.” That feels like an unnecessary apology, one that takes away from the fun of the moment. Instead of engaging in the exchange, they’re apologizing for speaking at all.

When they do this, I immediately respond with, “Why are you saying sorry? We haven’t done anything wrong or out of the ordinary. We’re both involved, and nothing happened.”

I believe I don’t struggle with confidence. I’m a pretty confident person and have never been shy about publicly speaking or talking to adults. I enjoy voicing my opinion and making my presence known. Sometimes, this might come off as loud or even annoying to some. But to me, it’s about being confident and having a firm trust in myself. That being said, even I find myself apologizing at times—and that’s okay.

Instead of saying, “Hey, sorry, can I come in?” try, “Hi, do you have a minute?” Both phrases achieve the same goal, but one makes you sound like an afterthought, while the other makes you come across as uplifted, like your presence matters in that moment.

Own what you’re doing. Be responsible for who you are. Be in the moment. Be unapologetic.

Being unapologetic doesn’t mean being rude. There’s a big difference between owning your worth and being dismissive or arrogant. It’s about self-respect. You deserve to take up space, speak your mind, and simply exist without feeling guilty. "Not sorry" doesn’t mean refusing to acknowledge mistakes or disregarding other people's feelings. It means standing by your values and speaking with confidence.

So next time you feel that urge to pause and apologize, ask yourself: Am I truly sorry, or am I afraid that I’m putting myself out there and being “too much”? The truth is, you’re not too much, and you don’t have to apologize for who you are.

Sorry, not sorry.

-AMS

I'm taking a break....

Whatsup?

For a while now, I’ve been thinking about branching out and exploring topics other than mental health. While I believe mental health is incredibly important and everyone should understand it, I’ve realized that I also enjoy speaking out about it. However, I’m also eager to test my writing skills in new ways. So, for the next two or three posts, I’ll be continuing the story I’ve started here. If anyone reading this has suggestions for short story ideas or anything else I should write, I’m definitely open to recommendations. For now, I’m taking a pause from mental health-related topics—both positive and negative—and shifting my focus to pouring my soul into short stories and fun, creative passages.

Alright, let’s dive in!

Sweat rolled down Detective Evans' collar. The rain outside rhythmically tapped on the windows of his cramped office, an ever-present reminder of the long hours spent in the shadows of unsolved mysteries. Piles of cases—glimpses into past lives—were scattered across his desk, but only one seemed to haunt him. The cacophony of cars outside filled the street during rush hour. His black hair, drenched from the humidity, clung to his forehead. With a swift motion, he flicked it back, trying to focus.

World-famous. That was what they called him. The detective who could solve any case that came his way. Except for one.

The case of Sahara Hines.

Five years ago, on December 15th, 2016, 16-year-old Sahara Hines had been kidnapped and vanished without a trace. Her parents, desperate for answers, searched high and low, eventually turning to Detective Evans for help. Despite his success in countless high-profile cases, this was the one that continued to chase him—a mystery that clung to his mind, refusing to let go.

This case was deemed closed, as most kidnappings are—there’s only so much that can be uncovered. At least, that’s what everyone believed. Until five weeks ago, new evidence resurfaced.

Okay so should I continue this story or should I start another. If you have any ideas that I should add on to this let me know or if you have something you I could write about feel free to tell me. 

Trying something new,

-AMS

Second Option?

Before I start my entry, I want to give a big thanks to a few of my friends (you know who you are). The past two weeks have been full of tests and a lot of stress over my marking period two grades. While trying to juggle life both inside and outside of school, I couldn't find the time to write. I love writing—it brings me great joy—but sometimes life just gets overwhelming.

Over the last week and this week, two or three of my friends have been consistently nagging me to write. On Monday, I promised one of them that I’d have it done and would post it. Today, she mentioned that someone had joked about me lying and not having it done, which made me chuckle. But it also motivated me to keep writing and reminded me how happy I am that people care about what I write and are interested in what I have to say. One of my friends even gave me that little spark I needed to get started on this piece.

Honestly, I wouldn't have sat down to write this if it weren't for those two or three people. So, thank you for giving me the much-needed motivation to write this week. And without further Ado I introduce my 8th entry. 

Do you ever feel like the second option, the last resort? The friend that everyone loves, but never the priority? Friends with everyone, yet without a best friend?

You don’t get texts unless you initiate the conversation. They don’t put in enough energy or give you the support and love you deserve. You show up, you listen, you support—but somehow, you’re always the afterthought. The one who’s there when they need you but forgotten when they don’t. The one who finds out about weekend plans after everyone else was invited.

It stings, and it slowly gnaws at your very being. You spend too much time wondering: Why them? What do I not have? What’s wrong with me? Am I not enough?

I'm not going to lie—sometimes we find ourselves in places where we aren’t valued. There will be moments when people don’t recognize your worth. You become the one they fall back on, the Plan B. It’s a hard truth to face.

But this isn’t about those people who are truly your friends. I mean, there are people in your life who will always support you, but you’re not their number one—and they’re not yours either. You both celebrate each other’s lives, and that’s okay. That’s understandable.

What really hurts is when someone replaces you with someone else, all because they think that person is "better."

You find yourself staying in a place where you're mistreated, maybe out of love or the hope that things will go back to what they once were. You keep waiting for the time when you and that person clicked, when everything felt right. But sometimes, you never click again.

You make excuses for their behavior—maybe they had a rough day, or maybe they'll include you next time. But at some point, you have to ask yourself: Why am I accepting crumbs when I could have the whole meal?

In life, the right people will stay. They’ll stick by you, never leave your side, and be there when you need them most. The ones who are meant to stay will, and the ones who aren’t will fall off.

Those people are just a shadow of what the bond once was. A distant place you can never return to. My mom always tells me, "It’s okay to have one golden friend, rather than a hundred fake ones." And it’s not even about fake friends—it's more about people who don’t prioritize you, people who don’t see your worth.

Them not valuing you isn’t a testament of your worth—it’s a reflection of where their priorities lie. Everyone deserves a friendship where they’re not just convenient, but truly loved. A friendship where they’re checked in on—not because someone has to, or because they’re bored, but because they genuinely care.

As the years go by, I lose friends and make new ones. Some stay, and some go. Some friendships hang on by a thread, while others weave into beautiful masterpieces.

Maybe it’s time for all of us to stop chasing hopes and fantasies of perfect relationships. It's time to step back and recognize our worth, our value. I’ve been cutting off friendships with people who don’t appreciate who I am and what I do for them.

If you ever find yourself in a position where you're that friend, make sure everyone feels included and loved. And yes, there will be times when others become a priority for you—and that’s okay. Just make sure your other friends feel the same level of love and that you reciprocate their time and efforts.

And in case no one has told you today—you are beautiful, you are valued, and you are loved. If this resonates with you a little too much, if it hits too close to home—just know this: you deserve better.

-AMS

Middle School Lesson: Emotions

Howdy

Middle school has been some of the greatest years of my life. I’ve felt smart, I’ve felt dumb, I’ve felt beautiful, I’ve felt kind, and I’ve felt vulnerable. I’ve experienced all kinds of emotions, both good and bad. I’ve overcome many obstacles and accomplished a lot of what I set out to do. Along the way, I’ve formed connections that I hold dear and lost a few as well.

Looking back, I realize I’m an open book. I don’t tend to hide my feelings—if I’m happy, it’s written all over my face. But not everyone's the same. And I think of it as a skill because being open with my emotions is an asset that continues to serve me. I’m only now starting to truly understand that it’s okay to express my emotions. It’s okay to show vulnerability or even appear weak. In the moment, it can feel uncomfortable, even like you’re being meek… hey, look, that rhymes!

Emotions are a key way I communicate. My friends can relate to my highs and lows, and my parents can reminisce about their own childhoods through my experiences. But not all emotions are positive. Sometimes, negative emotions take hold—like anger, jealousy, fear, and sadness.

Let’s start with anger. Anger is something we all experience in our day-to-day lives, whether mild or extreme. It can be triggered by subtle cues throughout our day. Sometimes, anger flares up quickly, like a sudden spark, or it can smolder and build up, turning into something much bigger, like a forest fire. Often, anger stems from repressed emotions or even small misunderstandings.

Then there’s fear. Fear is that ever-growing doubt—the voice that whispers, “Maybe I’m not enough, maybe I’m not the best, maybe I’m not…” It’s the uncertainty of the unknown. Fear lingers in your thoughts, haunting your sleep and creeping into your daydreams. Fear is something that sends a tingle down your spine, sometimes even boosting your step with adrenaline.

Jealousy is another emotion that we all feel at times. It’s natural and normal, a human trait. But jealousy shouldn’t bloom into anger. Jealousy is harmless—it’s just a small feeling. But envy—that’s different. Envy is one of the seven deadly sins. It can break friendships, tear people down, and lead to self-sabotage. Jealousy is primarily about the fear of losing something you already have, like a relationship, while envy is about wanting something someone else possesses that you don’t.

Finally, there’s sadness. If you’ve ever seen Inside Out, you know that sadness isn’t just an emotion to avoid. In fact, sadness can heal. Sometimes, you need to let it out. Holding in sadness doesn’t make it go away. It can build up, weighing you down until it’s harder to carry. But when you allow yourself to feel it and express it, there’s a release—a way for the healing process to begin. That doesn’t mean you should wallow in sadness or let it consume you.

So, how does this all relate to middle school?

When I was younger, no matter what emotion I felt, I would bottle it up. My heart used to feel heavy, and my head would hang low. But now, I’ve learned not to take everything to heart. I’ve learned to say, “So what, who cares?” But that doesn’t mean I don’t care at all. There are still things that I do take to heart, and for those, I’ve found a way to slowly release them. I let them ease out of my system by venting.

Venting is so important. It’s not just about letting off steam—it’s about processing emotions in a healthy way. Sometimes, people even have a mental breakdown, and that’s okay. Throughout middle school, I’ve cried over math tests, my friends have cried over grades, relationships, friendships, and so much more. Sometimes, just the thought of feeling stupid can bring a tear to my eye. And it’s good to have someone to turn to when that happens.

I’ve learned that being there for others is just as important as finding someone to lean on. Sometimes, I vent to a teacher, and sometimes, I’m the one that a peer vents to. I’m really grateful for my social support system because it’s something I can always rely on. I’ve been the shoulder to cry on, and I’ve also cried on other shoulders. It’s a reminder that sometimes, it’s okay to let it out. We all need to release and process our emotions to keep growing.

It’s important to harness and acknowledge these overwhelming feelings. They are learning opportunities, moments in your life that will shape who you are. And even though sometimes a mental breakdown feels terrible at the time, looking back, I realize that I’m glad I let it out. Will I ever get these feelings fully under control? I don’t know. Only time will tell. For now, I know I still have a long way to go, but I’m happy that I can address and accept my emotions. 

Feeling a calm before the storm,

-AMS

Power of Connections

    What's up, Buttercup

    It’s true, and as cliche as it may sound, everyone you encounter in life, at some point, will probably play a role in your journey. I’ve learned this firsthand. As someone who's still young, I’ve had my fair share of moments where I wasn’t always outgoing or comfortable reaching out. I used to be timid, shy even, and the thought of starting a conversation or making a new connection wasn’t easy. But as time passed, I realized something profound: people matter. And we don’t always see it right away, but those small moments can shape our future in ways we don’t expect. 

    You might initially see a person as someone you could “use” or “need” for something, but I see it more as a reciprocal relationship. You are genuine, offering your time, focus and your love. For example, when I’m with my friends, I make sure to put my phone away. I give them my full attention, with my body language and my mind. That’s how I show my love and my care. It’s not just about hearing what they say—it’s about being present and showing I value them. And in turn, they do the same for me. They listen when I need them. 

    I am by no means popular, but even teachers I’ve been introduced to years ago still keep connections with me. And I do take pride in that statement. Who knows? One of them may write a college application for me, or they may even become a teacher for one of my children. They’ve offered me nourishment and cultivated my interests, and I’ve offered them my focus and given them a sense of pride seeing the clay sculpture form into a statue. 

    I’ve come to realize that life is all about building this intricate web of support. Every person you meet is a thread in that web, and each thread plays a crucial role in holding you up. On the flip side, I’m a thread in other people’s lives, too. Sometimes, when I’m feeling low, my support system lifts me back up. And when my friends are struggling, I do my part to help them rise as well. It’s not a one-sided thing. It's a perfectly balanced equation. 

    Even those people you might initially be forced to meet or those who start off as simple acquaintances could turn into something more meaningful. It's not always about “what you can get” from someone—it’s about building a community where everyone gives and takes. When you help others, they remember. And when you need help, they’ll likely be there. Everyone is important and of significance none or higher than the other. 

    A lot of the friends I cherish today didn’t start out as close friends. It was just a small hello, a casual question about how someone’s day was going. But over time, those little exchanges add up, and before you know it, you’ve built a lifelong friendship that you wouldn’t trade for anything. 

    So remember this if you find yourself doubting your decision to go talk to somebody new: Connections Matter. People Matter. Every interaction, no matter the size, is a seed you can grow and feed, so that one day it can flourish into a flower that fosters love and care. 

Hope you enjoyed,

-AMS

Hard Work beats Talent

Oh, hey.

Disclaimer:

Today's blog delves into a lot of personal realizations, and may carry a somewhat somber or reflective tone. While the content may come across as a bit heavy, I view this blog as a valuable learning experience, both for myself and for anyone who connects with it. Please take it with an open mind and an understanding that growth often comes through moments of revaluation.

If there ever comes a day when hard work and talent are placed head-to-head, hard work will undoubtedly emerge victorious. Talent, without hard work, is ultimately useless. I consider myself a talented person. I dance, I sing, I’m a Girl Scout, I was part of FLL, and I serve as the student council president. To achieve all of these accomplishments, however, I needed a significant amount of hard work.

While talent gave me a head start in my dance and Girl Scout journeys, it soon left me to fend for myself. As the years pass, I feel my talent wearing off. Yes, I’m good at math, but how long will that last? I went from being a class topper to just another average student. The girl who once wouldn’t settle for less than a 99 now settles for a low 80. Every year, my New Year’s resolutions fall short. I set resolutions to sing more, be more devoted to God, and learn to write in my native tongue. But these resolutions are rarely followed through. When I do take action, it’s only for a week or so before I lose motivation and let it go.

The world is a tough place, and as I get older, I realize that my natural abilities may not be enough to succeed. Many of the things I’ve accomplished, like earning my Silver Award badge and leading my team to victory, required considerable effort and hard work beforehand. As I get older, I find it harder to keep myself focused on a goal.

I've come to a realization that I may not be enough. I know I’m a great person, and what I’ve accomplished so far is significant, but sometimes, it feels like I need more than just my current skill set to thrive in this world. As humans, we tend to both underestimate and overestimate ourselves. These past few years, I have found myself drowning in a puddle of realization—frustration, sadness, and at times, anger. Yet, in the midst of it all, there is still a bottle of hope.

I’ve come to understand that talent can only take you so far. Without hard work, it becomes insufficient, and the path to success becomes much more difficult. The lesson I’m learning is that it’s not just talent that leads to achievement, but the consistent effort and determination to keep going, even when things get tough. The harder I work, the more progress I’ll make, even if that means overcoming obstacles or pushing through moments of self-doubt.

Puzzled

-AMS

Trial and Error

Hey Champs

My mom grew up in Tamil Nadu, India, and had a fairly carefree and simple childhood. A star student—hardworking, and friendly—her daily routine was filled with structure: wake up, complete her morning duties, attend math tuition, go to school, snack, return to tuition, have dinner, and then sleep. There was little time for friends or leisure activities. 

There was a reason for the strange cycle. During my grandmother’s time, around 70 years ago, women’s interests were often stifled before they had the chance to bloom. My grandmother grew up as one of seven siblings, with scarce opportunities for girls, but she defied expectations. A brave, strong, and independent woman, she earned a Ph.D, raised four children, and worked as a zoology professor. At a time when most women were expected to be housewives, she was the first girl in our family to attend college. Her accomplishments are a testament to her determination.

Though well-educated, my grandmother had little time for hobbies. Her focus was on ensuring her children succeeded in life, and that dedication paid off—each of her children are now successful software engineers.

Now, back to my mom. Since childhood, she dreamed of pursuing something in the arts—whether it was dance, Carnatic music, henna, or drawing. Although she wasn’t completely deprived of these joys, they were limited. During her college years, she had the opportunity to explore stained glass painting, but her other passions were put aside. And whatever became of those dreams? They were passed down to her only daughter—me.

I wasn’t particularly artistic, though. I preferred speaking and leadership roles. Singing brought me joy, but it brought even more joy to my mother. Seeing me sing reignited a piece of her own dreams, like reclaiming the moments she never got to experience for herself. Singing became a bridge between my mother’s unfulfilled passions and my own, but over time, I began to feel less connected to it. One evening, I told my mom that I wanted to stop. The words felt heavy, as if I was letting her down. But her response surprised me—there was no backlash, just acceptance. She valued my happiness more than her own imagination.

One point I wanted to share is my journey with art. From kindergarten to second grade, I worked primarily with oil pastels. From second to fourth grade, I used both colored pencils and oil pastels. By sixth grade, I started drawing more with colored pencils. As time passed, my drawings improved significantly. The drawing classes were definitely fun, but I don't think my art ever quite measured up to the level I was expecting. 

During the summer after eighth grade, I decided to try henna, and it turns out I was pretty good at it. Henna can be a bit messier, but I found it much more enjoyable. Now, I have beautiful henna designs that I will cherish. 

Another way my mother pushed me toward her unfulfilled passions was through Indian classical dance, specifically Bharatanatyam. At first, it felt like just another forced activity. I joined mainly to appease my mom and ease the longing she carried from her younger years. I would often hear my mother and grandmother talk about how my mom would have excelled in dance had she started earlier in life. So, for the first two years of my dance journey, I attended classes begrudgingly.

However, over time, I began to develop connections with the people around me—my fellow dancers and my instructor. Slowly, I eased into the world of dance. I found myself falling in love with the discipline and structure that classical art provides. Now, I can't imagine my life without Bharatanatyam, and I’m grateful my mom encouraged me in that direction. Dance has awakened a sense of purpose in my life, grounding me and giving me something to work toward. It’s become a passion I didn’t expect to find.

When I reflect on it, I realize that my mom's insistence on this path was ultimately a gift. It shaped me into the person I am today, and I appreciate it. My mother always encouraged me to try different forms of art, but it was never something she forced me to do. Once I decided I'd had enough, that was final. She taught me that trying was more than enough. 

Alongside my mom’s influence in the arts, my parents also nudged me towards sports. As I mentioned, I’m active but not particularly sporty. I enjoy biking in the summer and playing badminton with friends, but I’m not one for competitive sports. However, I love trying new things, and if there’s an opportunity to challenge myself, I’ll seize it. Rock climbing is something I’ve enjoyed, and I’d love to do more of it. Hiking is another activity I’m passionate about.

My dad, on the other hand, is a sports enthusiast. He’s into everything—from volleyball and tennis to table tennis, badminton, cricket, hiking, biking, and even a bit of soccer. He’s always embraced every opportunity to engage in sports, making it a central part of his life. It’s inspiring to watch him excel in whatever sport he chooses.

When I was around nine, my dad encouraged me to get more involved in sports. The first activity he introduced me to was tennis. I found it enjoyable but didn’t see it as a long-term passion. Next came ice skating, a pursuit more influenced by my mom. I spent four years ice skating and mastered the basics. Though I was able to glide with ease and perform small turns, I realized it wasn’t something I wanted to pursue further.

Speaking of winter sports, I developed a strong interest in skiing. My dad was quick to support this newfound passion, and now, it’s something I look forward to every winter. I’m proud to say I’ve even tackled Black Diamond slopes—something I never thought I’d be able to do.

In addition to skiing, my dad introduced me to hiking. He’s planned some extravagant courses for us to explore, and we’ve shared many incredible adventures. One of the most memorable was when we climbed Rainbow Mountain in Peru. It was an unforgettable experience.

To conclude, my family has always pushed me in ways I never could have imagined. They motivate me to be my best in everything I do. Sometimes, their encouragement feels overwhelming, but deep down, I know it’s all for my own good. If I ever resist a sport or decide not to pursue something, they never force me. Instead, they give me the space to make my own decisions while continuing to support me in every way. 

I’m truly grateful for everything they’ve done for me. I honestly don’t know where I’d be without their guidance and love. 

To wrap up this blog, just for fun, here's a list of things I've tried but haven't stuck with:

• Carnatic music class
• Western Music 
• 4H Robotics
• Swimming
• Trumpet
• Ice skating
• Tennis
• Public speaking
• Henna
• Oil pastel art
• Colored pencil art
• God songs
• Tamil class

Thank you for reading

-AMS