Unfiltered. Undone.

No curating. Just confessing. Soft truths - raw, messy, unsaid. Loud whisper. Me - uncensored

[quillandwhisper]

CUT THE CORD .

When a child is born, the umbilical cord is cut. Physically, it's gone.

But mentally?It feels like we never really let it go.

We grow up thinking we have to live our whole lives for our parents — make them proud, earn money for them, make choices that keep them happy.

And then one day, they’re gone.

And we’re stuck.

Confused.

Asking ourselves — Now what?

Who do I do all this for?

Who’s left to be proud of me?

That’s what no one teaches us — we condition our whole mindset around doing things for them.

But maybe we should be doing things for ourselves too.

Not to forget our parents.

But so that when they’re gone, our identity doesn’t go with them.

So we don’t feel like we’ve lost our purpose.

So we still know who we are, and who we’re becoming — without the cord.

One day they'll be gone, make sure your purpose isn't.

[quillandwhisper]

Last night, my father came home from work and rushed straight to the washroom.

Within seconds, the atmosphere of our house shifted. We heard him vomiting and groaning in pain — a severe migraine.

That’s when it hit me: we’re not used to seeing our fathers — or the men around us — fall sick, be in pain, or show any signs of weakness.

And it’s not just this one time. There must have been countless moments when the men in our lives suffered silently, while everyone around them stood in shock — as if the world had tilted off its axis just because a man showed vulnerability.

But doesn’t this need to change?

We talk about feminism — and rightly so — but don’t men also deserve the right to be vulnerable?

To cry their hearts out, to be held and cared for, to be loved just as deeply?

Strength isn’t always silence. And maybe it’s time we stop expecting it to be.