Here’s how a conversation between me and 5-year-old Kashmala, my niece, went a few weeks ago.
Kashmala ❤
Kashmala, as we were face-timing: Let’s watch Youtube songs! Can you pleeeeeeeeeeeeease put on that song “Beautiful”? It’s my faaaaaaveeerite!
I’m doing a whole bunch of thinking about myself lately, so expect more of this kind of blogs. I try to keep away from sharing personal reflections in my blog, but to hell with it all now; I’ll write about whatever I want and whatever needs to be said. This particular matter is about what exactly “be yourself, be you” (sometimes “Girrrl, be you, do you!” I like both, whatevz) actually mean.
Everyone tells us to be ourselves. (Hell, even this patriarchal society that’s the bane of us women tells us to be yourselves – but then it goes around and says, “No, not that way.”) But for once, I’m not going to talk about the shitty 
lies that society tells us (women) about how to be and how not to be. I’m talking about when our closest friends, our loving family members, our mentors advise us kindly not to worry about what everyone else thinks and says but to just be ourselves and just be happy with who we are.
This semester, I’m taking some awesome dance workout classes – to maintain my sanity. Most of the classes have been amazing and insanely therapeutic so far, but the one I was actually most looking forward to–belly dancing–has been a disappointment. And after much thought and frustration, I’ve decided to quit it. There are two main reasons.
Freedom from the Forbidden 