I think 2019 was one of the first times in my life when I felt deeply vulnerable. I had switched my school from Navodaya to Kendriya Vidyalaya, and that transition was difficult.

I didnā€™t have enough money for coaching, while the school curriculum wasnā€™t able to properly complete the syllabus or prepare students for competitive exams. I was struggling, especially with Chemistry. Part of my difficulty with Chemistry wasnā€™t simply the subject itself. It was also the way I had come to perceive and understand it from Classes 9 and 10. I had already developed a mental block around it.

During that time, one teacher, Samar, helped me. She supported me academically, but she also became an emotional go-to person for me. When I was struggling, there was someone I could approach, someone who could help me understand the subject and somehow make the situation feel manageable.

When she was no longer there, I realized how much I had depended on that support.

At the same time, I was dealing with the pressure of JEE. I was very young and naive about emotions. I didnā€™t really know how to regulate them, process them, or even explain what I was going through.

I also didnā€™t know whom to talk to.

With adults, I didnā€™t really have someone I felt comfortable sharing these things with. And people my own age were mostly not going through the same phase or dealing with the same pressures. So I carried a lot of things internally.

Movies often show a simple story: the character gets hurt, struggles, and eventually succeeds.

My life didnā€™t work that way. šŸ˜‚šŸ˜‚

I didnā€™t get into an IIT. I got opportunities at some good colleges, but by that point I was so overwhelmed and stressed that I didnā€™t even apply to some of them. Looking back, I can see that the emotional burden affected some of the decisions I made at that time.

But those years didnā€™t completely define me.

Over the next four years, I started working on myself. I tried to manage my emotions better, interact with different kinds of people, and understand my own reactions. I spent a lot of time learning technical things, perhaps sometimes too much. Technical subjects were easier for me because they felt structured and predictable. People and emotions were much complex.

I think I built a shell around myself. I developed strong ideas about how people are and how they behave. Sometimes I tried to impose those ideas rather than actually listening and understanding.

But slowly, that has started changing.

I began meeting more people, talking to them about different things, and allowing myself to see that people cannot always be understood through one fixed framework. I am becoming less interested in imposing my interpretation and more interested in understanding the person in front of me.

And recently, I have started noticing something else.

I can actually talk to people about difficult or uncomfortable things without feeling that everything has to be resolved immediately.

Yesterday, for example, I was quite stressed earlier in the day. I was thinking about money, marriage, my future, and whether I would be able to build the kind of life I want. But when I met V, I didnā€™t behave as though everything in my life was falling apart. At the same time, I didnā€™t put on a fake ā€œI donā€™t careā€ attitude either.

I was simply there.

We talked about uncomfortable things, but we also talked about completely random things. Later, we went out to eat. It was a normal evening, even though I still had unresolved questions in my head.

She also gave me a different perspective about marriage and adulthood.

We talked about how many people today want to know someone before deciding to marry them. I can understand that perspective. If two people are going to spend their lives together, it makes sense that they should have some opportunity to understand each otherā€”their personalities, values, expectations, habits, and the kind of life they want to build.

I liked the idea of thinking about it as being on the same ship in the ocean called life. The important question isnā€™t whether two people are identical. It is whether they are willing to sail in the same direction rather than living as though they are on completely different ships.

We also talked about inter-caste relationships and marriage.

I realized that I had sometimes thought about this issue as though there were only two possible worlds: either everyone cares about caste or nobody does. But reality isnā€™t like that.

Some families care deeply about caste. Some donā€™t. Some people may have strong preferences, while others may care much more about the person themselves. Social attitudes can also change gradually over time.

So I donā€™t need to predict exactly what will happen.

If I genuinely like someone, I can be honest with them in a responsible way and then respect their choice, their family circumstances, and their own values. I donā€™t need to control the outcome.

That feels like a healthier way to approach relationships.

We also talked about money and what it actually takes to build a life.

Earlier, I had developed an idea in my head that I needed something like ā‚¹50ā€“60 LPA to settle down in a city like Bangalore. I had also started thinking that perhaps only software-development careers could provide enough income to sustain a family in a city like this.

But yesterday gave me another perspective.

A household with two responsible people doesnā€™t necessarily need an enormous income to have a decent life. Depending on rent, lifestyle, location, transportation, and spending habits, a couple may be able to manage reasonably well on a combined take-home income of around ā‚¹1ā€“2 lakh per month. A more affordable home farther from the workplace may reduce rent considerably, although it comes with additional travel.

The exact numbers will obviously vary, but the broader realization was important:

A good family life is not automatically expensive just because you are not earning an enormous salary.

Financial discipline matters.

If two people are careless with money, even a high income can disappear. If two people understand their finances, control unnecessary expenses, and make reasonable choices, a moderate income can support a comfortable life.

That realization reduced some of the pressure I had been putting on myself.

I also realized that many people around me work in service-based companies and are living ordinary lives. I had sometimes compared my situation with a much narrower picture of highly paid technology workers and assumed that was the standard I had to reach immediately.

It isnā€™t.

There are many different ways to build a life.

And perhaps this is another form of emotional maturity: being able to update my picture of reality when I receive new information.

I donā€™t have to keep living according to assumptions I formed years ago.

I also thought about emotional intelligence in relationships.

Someone once told me that in a long-term partner, one of the important qualities people look for is emotional intelligenceā€”the ability to remain emotionally stable and communicate even when the relationship goes through difficult phases or unexpected changes.

That stayed with me.

I donā€™t want to become someone who becomes extremely attached, possessive, or emotionally overwhelmed whenever I care about someone. I want to learn how to connect deeply while still allowing the other person to remain free.

I can like someone.

I can wait if they are also interested.

I can communicate honestly.

And I can respect their decision if they arenā€™t.

I donā€™t need to turn uncertainty about someoneā€™s feelings into an investigation that consumes me.

That is something I am still learning.

I also see progress in ordinary relationships. With S, with V, and with some other people recently, I have noticed that I am becoming more comfortable talking and sharing. Some people have told me that they are introverted, yet they seem comfortable around me after only a few interactions.

Maybe I am also becoming better at making people feel comfortable.

That matters to me because for a long time I thought of myself primarily through the lens of being introverted. Now I am realizing that connecting with people is a skill, and skills can develop.

I can also see this in how I handle responsibilities. Even when I donā€™t always feel that the care or support around me is exactly what I would want, I am learning to take responsibility anyway.

Sometimes it is simply:

ā€œI need to give, so I give.ā€

I donā€™t need to feel perfect about it first.

I think I am becoming more capable of carrying responsibility without turning every responsibility into an emotional burden.

I still have my baggage. Everyone does. Our experiences shape us, sometimes in ways we donā€™t even realize.

But I donā€™t think I am the same person who carried all of that burden in 2019.

I am slowly becoming someone who can feel vulnerable without falling apart, care about people without trying to control the outcome, have uncomfortable conversations without needing immediate certainty, update my assumptions when I receive new information, and remain present even when the future is unclear.

Maybe emotional maturity isnā€™t about becoming someone who never gets stressed.

Maybe it is learning that:

I can be stressed, uncertain, vulnerable, and still function, connect, make decisions, take responsibility, and enjoy an ordinary evening.

I think I am getting better at that.

Slowly, but genuinely.