Achamma

Growing up, I was always surrounded by incredible women. But one who held a special place in my heart was my grandmother.

I was endlessly fascinated by how free she seemed. While my mom's mom was busy hustling, raising five daughters and all their kids, my Achamma (my dad's mom) was simply reading. She had a cook, a cleaner, and three sons looking after her. She was living for herself before anyone even thought to make that cool.

She read everything, knit, told the best stories, sewed, did embroidery and made the most wonderful pickles. Her beetroot pickle was legendary and somehow the reason I actually started eating vegetables. She never missed her favorite shows. She stepped into the kitchen when she felt like it, for the joy of it, never because she had to.

Then life got really hard. Three devastating losses in three years, the kind that would bring most of us to our knees. But she carried on. When I visit her in India now, people often look at her with pity. I look at her and feel something closer to awe.

We're told all the time to find peace within ourselves, but we don't always take it seriously until we have to. What Achamma showed me is that the life you build inside yourself, your passions, your sense of who you are beyond your everyday roles isn't a luxury. It's a lifeline.

If you're a young woman reading this, please don't put yourself last. Build that little world inside yourself now, while you can. A place that's just yours, that no one can take away. Somewhere soft to land when life gets hard.