Monthly Archives: March 2016


So throughout this post I’m going to pretend that I actually am someone who is entitles to have an opinion on things like self confidence, body image and such things. So bear with me.

I’m a little annoyed when everyone keeps on asking me things like, “You’re kind of overconfident, aren’t you?” Uh, yes I am. It took me YEARS to be confident with my skin. Constant reminders from everyone who called me ‘Fat’ and ‘Round’ and ‘Fat-ass’ didn’t really help, either. If I wore clothes too loose, it was a problem and it was an even bigger problem if I wore them tight. I couldn’t show too much skin because what am I, trying to get cat-called everywhere I go? I couldn’t wear clothes which covered me too much because then I’m a prude who doesn’t know how to dress.  I was constantly reminded that I wasn’t as pretty as the other girls and that I should learn to behave and dress more like them. It’s hard being my body type and then dealing with these comparisons, too. I’m not lying when I say that I actually considered plastic surgery to change how I looked. I ruined my body because if something is already ugly, what difference a few more scars are going to make, right?

Then it was October and I’d gotten my first five figure check. I was an 18 year old, working 17 hours a day, dealing with so much shit and making more than anyone in my family. I was going to put myself through law school. I was independent and I guess that was the little push that I needed. It might sound weird, but it was Donatella that gave me the first shred of confidence. I mean the song, not Versace. I listened to it over and over and over and over again. I didn’t need the approval of anyone else to convince me that I’m a bomb. I didn’t need other people telling me this on social media. Hell, I didn’t care what anyone thought.

It’s my goddamn choice to rock a turtleneck or a tank top. I don’t care if I’m showing too much skin or too little of it. Guess what? I love it and you can shove your unasked opinion right up our anal cavity, thank you very much.

Now, another set of people who didn’t develop further than the stage of being an asshole are the ones who think that if you look good and you feel good about yourself you have got to be doing it for ‘someone’ else. These people make me laugh, really. You think I own every shade of red lipstick, just to impress some dumbfuck who doesn’t see the difference between Ruby Woo and Classic pirate? You think I’m wearing a winged eyeliner sharp enough to kill, it’s for some  guy? Are you serious? Guys don’t know shit about make-up. I was shopping online once and I asked my friend which one of the two shades were better.

Me: Okay, which one will look good on me?

Palash: *Glances over at my phone* What’s the difference?

So if anyone in the world thinks that she’s putting on make-up for you, you need to get down from that imaginary horse you have because no woman does her make-up to impress anyone other than herself.

Now, getting back to the point. Big surprise! You will have a billion reasons in the world to feel bad about yourself. You will make so many mistakes in your life that you will start hating yourself. But making mistakes shouldn’t make you hate yourself or your body. The best thing you can do is apologize for it, and pray to every god there is that you will get forgiveness from those who you seek. You can’t do anything else, to be honest. We don’t have a time machine yet (At least as far as I know). You need to own up to what you did, accept consequences and come out a better person. People with negativity will always leech themselves onto you because they can’t get over their own insecurities. It’s a  Hum to doobenge, tumhe bhi le doobenge type of situation. We didn’t get over our issues then why should you? You need to surround yourself with better people, people who support you no matter what or a million blog posts from a nobody like me won’t help.

You are a bomb the day you decide to be. Have no shame in taking compliments, you deserve them. Do whatever makes YOU feel good and flip the bird to anyone who says otherwise. You’ve got a scarred body? Cut? Burned? So do I. So do more than 7 billion people out there. People seem to have this misconception that guys aren’t victims of body shaming. Yes, they are, and they don’t get enough light when this issue is talked about. It’s not easy to be a guy and be commented negatively based on physical appearance, either. All this shade people throw on each other just based on how they look is the stupidest thing to do with your time.

You are who you are, and no one has the power to change it and no one should. I don’t wanna be weird and quote Stefani Joanne Angelina Germanotta, but

“You’re beautiful in your way, because God makes no mistakes.”

These words are everything, and it doesn’t matter if you believe in a God(s) or not. You were made the way you were and there are no mistakes when it comes to that. There’s a plan set out and everything is going accordingly.

So if you’re down about anything, get out of bed, listen to some gangsta rap, fix yourself something to eat, put yourself together and reign like the Queen/King you are.








I’ll call you the boss,baby
You can have it all
Tell me when to run and when to stop
Ask me to jump and then to fall
Baby, you can have it all.

He had his eyes on me when I saw him
As he was walking to me I was falling
I knew it was wrong but to be honest
His eyes were the world and beyond it
I should’ve ran but I stuck on him
His skin touched mine and I lost it.

His mouth was Halloween
Promised all the wicked things
His tongue licked his teeth,

Got a plan on his mind

won’t let a second go to waste.
He’s sick, he’s twisted but he’s on it
He says, “Turn around,doll, I got this.”

He got me right where he wanted
Pinned underneath him and panting
His hands curled my throat and I liked it
“fuck it” I thought and started.
His room is fire, his bed is black
He’s doing that thing, back to back
Got a feeling I’m slipping through the cracks
But hell, he’s body is a party worth all the jacks

He’s bad, he’s taken, he’s on shit
He’s a devil, he’s a dog or all of it.
He’s lethal but I can’t seen to fight it
He’s in love with my skin and he’s marked it.
He’s smoke, he’s wine and chocolate
He got bourbon on his breath and  want him

He’s in me, I’m on him, we can’t resist.
He’s bleeding from his wallet but damn it
I couldn’t care less about what’s in it
He’s a white winged devil, an angel
He’s a scoundrel underneath all that gentle
I thought he got game but he’s fatal
My, my he’s making me grovel.

I’ll call you the boss, baby
Just don’t stop.
Call you the boss, baby
You can be my storm,
I’ll let you have it all
Just don’t stop.


*Art courtesy, again, the very talented Sanjana Dawani. If you haven’t checked out her pages on Facebook, Instagram and Bananabandy yet, what the hell have you been doing yo?