Not Everyone Deserves Access to You

By someone who’s still healing, still growing, and finally speaking her truth.

I’m writing for the first time, and to be honest, I don’t know how to start. I don’t know the rules of writing or the structure to follow. But after days of procrastination, here I am — finally writing something.

Something that life taught me. Something many of you might already know, but not all of us learn. There’s a difference, right?

Sounds confusing? Maybe. But stay with me.

I’m a person who is currently healing — from past traumas, breakups, emotional abandonment, and inner wounds I didn’t even know existed until I started looking inward. And ironically, this messy, painful, confusing journey has been one of the most beautiful things that ever happened to me.

I grew up in a middle-class brown family. And yes — shamefully, this was the place where I unknowingly got hurt the most. I’m the eldest daughter, which probably explains a lot. From childhood to college, I learnt many things I shouldn’t have had to. Still, I acknowledge the basics that my family gave me — education, food, shelter, and clothes.

But here’s where it hurts: They think they were the only ones paying a price. The truth? I paid too. Just in ways they never saw.

Now that I’m 21 — technically 21 years and 2 months old — I finally understand why I was raised the way I was — why my parents behaved a certain way. It wasn’t their fault entirely; it was a result of a narrow-minded society, generational trauma, and limiting beliefs passed down like heirlooms.

Because of this environment, I learned

• Not to speak confidently.
• Not to take a stand for myself.
• That love must be earned, not given unconditionally.
• To suppress my emotions and anger to “keep the peace”.
• Not to say “no” even when I was uncomfortable.
• That I may not deserve love, care, or respect unless I prove myself worthy.

I’m not saying fulfilling loved ones’ expectations is wrong. But losing yourself in the process just to keep them happy? That’s where the problem lies.

And somewhere during my college journey, I began to unlearn all of this.

The First Lesson:

By nature, I’ve always been a bubbly girl — someone who loves to talk to people. But deep down, I was constantly craving love, attention, care, and respect. I’m not saying my mother or family didn’t love me. They did. But unknowingly, their actions and patterns left me feeling unloved, unseen, and misunderstood.

“When a child does not receive consistent love and care, they often grow up seeking it in unsafe places, repeating old wounds in new relationships.” — Based on Bowlby’s Attachment Theory

I have always been hard-working and good at studies. I consistently scored well in school. After my 12th grade, I took a one-year gap to prepare for engineering entrance exams. (It wasn’t my decision — my parents believed I could do it, so they made that choice for me.) I began preparing sincerely, and eventually, I cracked the entrance exam for a reputed engineering college and got admitted to a good department. Although my rank wasn’t very high, I was happy to get admission — and so were my parents — especially because the college was in my home city.

When college started, I was overjoyed. For the first time, I got my own smartphone — because in my home, using phones was seen as the first step toward “ruining” a child.

When I went for physical reporting and document submission at my college for the first time, I met a girl from my department, although she was in a different section. We talked a lot, and after meeting her, anyone could easily tell that she had a bubbly and talkative nature. Then we went our separate ways, and surprisingly, we didn’t even ask each other’s names.

I joined the class WhatsApp group, and I was so active in it. Everyone was joking around, and even when I didn’t fully understand the conversations, I loved the attention. It felt like I was finally being noticed.

But after a few months, I started sensing something was off. Turns out — I was being bullied.

There were rumours that I liked a guy just because I used to ask him for help. He liked me, maybe, but I genuinely saw him as a kind classmate. Unfortunately, in today’s world, kindness is often mistaken for flirting.

There was another guy in our class — tall, long hair, cute. I helped him during lab exams because he barely attended classes. Again, just a gesture of kindness. But I was teased mercilessly. People assumed I had a crush on him. I was being mocked and misunderstood, and slowly I realised — not everyone can be your friend. Not everyone wants the best for you.

That’s when I learnt something I never knew before: boundaries.

I wasn’t raised to set them. I wasn’t even aware I could. But life taught me — sometimes in the hardest ways — that not everyone deserves access to you.

And that, my friend, was a life-changing lesson.

This was just the beginning.

If you felt something while reading this, or if you’ve ever experienced something similar, do follow me here. Support this journey — so I can continue writing, healing, and sharing the things no one taught me but life did.