We all have gone through some kind of pain, right?
The kind that broke us, shook us, changed us in a lot of ways… the kind of pain that you cannot explain to anyone. The kind of pain that only you can understand, because it’s you who went through it, who saw through it.
You know you were a mess at that time. You were losing yourself, or maybe you had already lost yourself. You kept asking—why is this happening to me? Why me? Do I deserve this? Will I survive this?
You wanted to give up. You wanted to disappear. You wanted to leave. And at the same time, you were too scared to start things from scratch. You were feeling too heavy after losing that version of you.
But tell me one thing, is it just me, or do we often revisit those moments when we were broken and shattered?
Not to relive them, but to look back and see how far we have come… how much we have grown.
Somewhere along the way, you left the pain behind but carried the scars with you. And now when you look at those scars, you smile and think, how did I survive this? And in that moment, you feel proud of yourself.
A familiar pain… or a lesson for life?
Whatever it was, it changed you in ways you didn’t even think were possible.
Personally, I have had a fair share of setbacks in life, as we all do. But I know this for a fact now: every time I am heartbroken or shattered, I find comfort in my own thoughts… or, as I call it, my creativity. I have created an updated version of myself every single time.
It was around 2017 when I decided that I wanted to write and put things online. Even though I knew how messy and chaotic my thoughts were, I still went ahead and bought my first domain—aninditarath.com. I cannot even explain how much of a struggle that phase was. I searched through hundreds of websites, trying to understand how things worked. No one around me even knew about this space, and I had no one to ask.
So what did I do? The internet gave birth to a newer version of me.
And I started writing.
Sometimes I feel writing is my therapy. People may judge me, and honestly, I judge myself too—very often, and very harshly. But I have realized one thing: it’s better to do something and be judged than to do nothing and just sit.
And then came 2020.
Another vulnerable phase. Another version of me trying to figure things out.
That’s when I bought my second domain—scrambledwriter.com.
I didn’t have everything sorted. I didn’t suddenly become confident or fearless. I was still figuring myself out, still healing in ways I didn’t even understand fully. But this time, I made a quiet decision—to build myself, one day at a time.
Not perfectly. Not consistently. But honestly.
I started putting pieces of myself out there, my thoughts, my experiences, my questions, my chaos. Slowly, I started writing not just about what I felt, but also about who I am… or at least, who I was becoming.
And somewhere between all those words, I wasn’t just writing anymore… I was understanding myself.
So I write my thoughts, and I put them out into the universe.
And now when I look back, do I think about what I went through? Not really. I think about what came after… what that pain made me do. And honestly, it led to good things. I learned to discard the bad thoughts and focus on the ones that helped me grow.
Being an introvert, or maybe an ambivert now, i don’t easily share what I am going through. Not until I truly believe I can be vulnerable in front of someone.
I’ve been told that I don’t express enough or that I don’t communicate well.
But honestly, when there are ten thousand things going on in your mind, sometimes the best thing you can do is sit with yourself and talk to yourself. Because not everyone is your friend, and not everyone can understand you the way you can understand yourself.
You are responsible for yourself. For what goes on inside your head. For how you choose to deal with it.
I go back to my pain,
my lessons,
my breaking points, only to realise that I did the right thing at that time. Even when I was breaking, I didn’t let my pain turn me into someone who would hurt others or pass that pain on to someone else.
I call those phases chapters of my life that once felt like tragic endings… but now feel like beautiful plot twists in the story of my life.
And now, as I slowly begin working on my next book, I realize something even deeper—every version of me that broke, rebuilt, and survived… is quietly writing it with me.
I am yet to complete this book of my life… but I can already tell it will be worth rereading.
Because sometimes, the pain that once broke you… becomes the reason you finally meet yourself.
Here’s to our broken selves.
Anindita Rath
@scrambledwriter
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