luv ur self

Amma's wrinkled hands guided mine across the silk saree, teaching me patterns our ancestors wove centuries ago. "Know yourself first," she whispered in Tamil, her voice carrying generations of wisdom. I'd spent years chasing approval, my confidence bankable only in others' eyes. But watching my reflection in that mirror, draped in heritage, something shifted. The intricate borders suddenly felt like armor. Those rusted self-doubts began their catapult skyward. Learning our language, our stories, our songs became my improvement. Not for reward, but for the disoriented girl becoming whole. Now, standing beside Amma, I understood: loving ourselves means honoring where we come from.