Personal / Narrative Based Stories: Story One + Activity One: Write About a Time You Had to Hide Your True Feelings to Meet Someone Else’s Expectations”
In the comments or practice it in your journals or a piece of paper, write about a time you had to hide your true feelings to meet someone else’s expectations as a south asian woman . This can range from pleasing a family member, friends or your partner/spouse.
Below you can read the story of a fictionalized character who has been through this experience. The aim of this is to demonstrate what we can learn from this and how we can apply this into our daily lives. Note: Name is based on a fictionalized character narrating her story but used as a real life incident
Picture credits: https://i.pinimg.com/736x/34/ee/d8/34eed893e236ed3246d7a063d4301ce2.jpg
“The Day I Stopped Smiling for Others”
By Nazia
They said Ahad was a good match.
He was polite, educated, came from a decent family, and knew how to speak in public without ever raising his voice. My parents liked him. My extended family approved. Everyone told me I was lucky.
And for a while, I believed them.
In the beginning, I tried so hard to be the woman I thought Ahad wanted—the ideal wife. Quiet. Respectful. Always agreeable. I folded pieces of myself into neat little corners to make room for his world. I said I liked what he liked. I listened more than I spoke. I smiled even when I didn’t feel like smiling.
But inside, something was cracking.
I used to paint. That was my thing. When I painted, I could breathe. I could rage and mourn and dance all at once—with a brush instead of words. My canvases were messy, loud, imperfect—alive. But after the wedding, my easel started gathering dust in the corner.
“Too much clutter,” Ahad had said casually one day. “Maybe you should take baking classes instead. It’s more useful, no?”
I laughed. I nodded. I enrolled in baking.
And each time I silenced a part of myself to please him, I told myself this was love. This was sacrifice. This was what good wives did.
But the truth is, I wasn’t living. I was performing.
I can’t even tell you the moment it all became too much. Maybe it was at a dinner party, when someone said, “Ahad’s wife is so graceful and quiet. A real lady.” And everyone smiled and nodded, including me. I went home and stared at myself in the mirror, wondering when being voiceless became a compliment.
I felt like a stranger in my own skin.
Then one day, I met my old friend Zehra again. Her home was chaos—paints everywhere, loud music, that same energy I used to carry. We talked for hours. And for the first time in years, I laughed. Not politely. Not carefully. But fully. Zehra looked at me and said, “You still have that laugh. I missed it.”
That night, I cried. Not because I was sad. But because I realized how much of me I had buried just to keep the peace.
After that, I opened the closet and pulled out my old brushes. I painted that night like I was gasping for air. I didn’t hide it. I left the canvas on the table. Let him see it.
And when Ahad did, I told him the truth. That I missed myself. That I felt like I was disappearing just to meet everyone’s expectations—including his. I didn’t blame him. But I couldn’t pretend anymore.
He didn’t say much at first. He was surprised. Maybe even confused. But he listened.
That was the beginning—not of a perfect marriage, but of a real one.
I still love him. But I love me too now. I paint again. I speak up. And I’ve learned that hiding your feelings for someone else’s comfort isn’t kindness—it’s a slow erasure.
Never let your silence be the proof of your love.
Because the people who truly love you… they won’t ask you to shrink.
💭 Reflect and Reclaim – Activity Time
If you resonated with Nazia’s story, take a few minutes to reflect on your own journey. These prompts are for you. Write them in a journal, discuss them with a friend, or just sit with them in quiet thought.
1. Who are you when no one’s watching?
What parts of your personality or passion do you often hide in order to “fit in” or “keep the peace”?
2. Have you ever silenced your true feelings to meet someone else’s expectations?
What did that feel like—and how did it affect your sense of self?
3. What’s something you gave up that you want to return to?
Whether it’s painting, writing, dancing, dreaming—what piece of yourself is asking to come back?
4. What does being loved look like to you?
Does it include space for your voice, your passions, your truth?
5. What’s one small step you can take today to be more you—authentically, unapologetically?
It could be expressing a feeling, saying “no,” or doing something just for yourself.
✨ Remember: You don’t owe anyone a watered-down version of yourself. You are allowed to take up space. You are allowed to grow louder.
And most of all—you are allowed to begin again.