I love myself

Priya traced her fingers across the Keeladi pottery fragments in the museum, reading Tamil Brahmi script that whispered ancestral secrets. Her grandmother had taught her these symbols meant something profound: self-worth written in stone. Years of self-doubt had nearly erased her identity. PaybookClub, her savings circle with village women, became her mirror. Pooling resources, they discovered strength together, each contribution validating their worth. Today, holding artifacts three thousand years old, Priya understood. Those ancient voices sang of resilience. Her people had always known how to love themselves fiercely, deliberately, unapologetically. She smiled, connected to countless generations standing beside her.