Describe a phase in life that was difficult to say goodbye to.
There was a phase of my life
that didn’t just happen to me—
it lived inside my bones.
The kind that leaves slowly,
like someone taking their hands
off your throat…
but gently.
.
I knew it was ending
long before I admitted it.
Goodbyes always start
with silence —
the kind you pretend not to notice
while noticing every second of it.
.
Some days it felt like
love wearing borrowed clothes—
a little tight,
a little loose,
anything but mine.
And yet,
I kept adjusting myself
like a fool
hoping the fitting would change.
.
When it finally walked away,
I didn’t cry immediately.
I just forgot how to breathe
for a few weeks.
Funny, right?
You don’t realize someone
was oxygen
until you’re counting
your inhales like bills.
.
But the strangest thing?
I still feel relieved
knowing they’re okay
wherever they are.
Like…
I don’t want them back,
but I don’t want them hurting either.
Life is weird.
Or maybe I am.
.
And then there were the goodbyes
that weren’t even goodbyes —
just sudden disappearances
into a place no map can bring them back from.
The kind that split your existence
into a “before” and an “after.”
When they left,
they didn’t just leave the world —
they left my world.
It felt like someone pulled a rib out of me,
a whole structure of safety and warmth,
and now I live with a space inside my chest
that no love, no person,
no future can ever refill.
It doesn’t heal…
you just learn to walk around it
like a crack in your own spine.
.
Even now, when a certain song plays,
my chest remembers
what my mind has forgiven
and my heart has outgrown.
.
And that phase?
I’ll never get it back.
But I’m learning to love
the version of me
who survived it —
without bitterness,
without blame,
without begging anyone
to stay.
.
🌸 A Message for Every Woman
— Read This Slowly
Choose yourself.
Always.
At every turn, every milestone, every heartbreak.
Love yourself loudly enough
that people think twice
before leaving
and think a hundred times
before hurting you.
.
Stand on your own feet
so firmly
that anyone who walks beside you
knows it is an honour —
not a favour.
.
Let the world learn
how to love you
from the way you love yourself.
.
—Rajeshwari 🧿💕
© Nihshabd by Rajeshwari. All Rights Reserved.
This is deeply moving and beautifully written. The imagery is raw yet graceful, especially the way you describe loss, healing, and self-rediscovery—it feels honest, intimate, and profoundly relatable. Your closing message is powerful and empowering, leaving readers not just touched, but strengthened. A truly soulful piece that lingers long after the last line. 🌸
Verma ji, your words felt like a soft pause in my day… the good kind.
This piece came from a very quiet corner of me, so knowing it reached you so gently means more than I can put into lines.
Thank you for feeling it the way I hoped someone would. ✨
What a deeply moving and beautifully written piece. Your words carry such raw honesty—the way you captured that slow, suffocating realization of something ending, the gentle yet crushing silence before goodbye, the visceral imagery of someone being oxygen you suddenly have to count like bills. That section about grief that isn’t even a goodbye but a disappearance “into a place no map can bring them back from”—that “crack in your own spine” we learn to walk around—is breathtakingly profound.
And then the turn toward self-love at the end… “Choose yourself. Always.” That transition from surviving to honoring yourself without bitterness is everything. You’ve transformed pain into wisdom here, and your message for every woman to love themselves loudly enough that people think twice before leaving? That’s not just poetry—that’s a survival guide.
Thank you for sharing this piece of your soul, Rajeshwari. It will resonate with so many who have loved, lost, and are learning to stand firmly on their own two feet. 💫
Your words, Srikanth ji, felt like a hand on my shoulder… steady, warm, and truly seen.
Thank you for reading not just what I wrote, but what I felt while writing it. This piece came from a very quiet ache — the kind that doesn’t break you loudly, it just reshapes you slowly. If it reached you, then maybe that silence had a purpose.
And yes… choosing yourself is the softest kind of courage. It doesn’t come from anger, just an inner knowing that your heart deserves to be held with care — especially by you.
Thank you for holding my words so gently, Srikanth ji.
It means more than you think. ✨
—Rajeshwari 🤍
Wowwww your so amazing described regarding self love❤️this is too precious
Thank you so much Rudresh 🤍
It’s real very well written you did a fantastic job
Thank you so much 🤍 Your words truly mean a lot to me. I’m really glad you liked it.🤍✨
Please read the post ‘ Goodbye ? ‘🙏🌹
I’ll read it soon. Thank you for thinking of me. ✨
Touch my heart ❤️
Thank you 🤍✨
You write very well and the way you describe self_love is amazing .
Keep it up!! the world needs the light of people like you(◠‿◠).
Your words felt like a gentle hug. Thank you for seeing the light in mine. 🤍 Sending you love and gratitude… keep shining too.🤍✨
Beautiful message to all women , Rajeshwari.
Thank you so much Nusrat… it means a lot. 💛
Forgot to mention excellent allusion to Margaret Mitchell
This reply actually belonged here. I was a little confused, so I’m really sorry again🤍✨
I had written this earlier-
‘It’s a big thing for me to be mentioned with a writer like Margaret Mitchell. I just write whatever comes from a small corner of my heart.
I haven’t read her books yet. But thank you I’ll now keep a little space for her in my library.🤍✨
But then I felt maybe I misunderstood what you meant… so I deleted it.🫣✨
Excellent 👌
The words has pain one haa to feel the bleeding eyes of the words and you described it all through your writing , a splendid piece of work really appreciating
Thank you so much for feeling the depth behind the words. It truly means a lot that the emotions resonated with you. Your appreciation encourages me to keep writing from the heart.🤍✨