Don’t Beg, Take

Growing up Indian American — one of my past lives

This is going to sound harsh, but some of us, particularly women, turn ourselves into martyrs. I’ve been there myself.

When I read articles about women who are taken advantage of by inconsiderate spouses, clingy children and domineering parents, I remember my own past lives. You see, I was a good girl.

There seems to be an unspoken social contract. If you are a good girl, then you are valued and cared for. But the reality? Good girls internalize rage, frustration, stress.

Good girls ask for what they need and often don’t get it. They ask for bread but must be satisfied with crumbs. Why? Because they value others and others’ opinions more than their own inner voice.

I didn’t start off as a good girl. I was a bold, happy child. My mom remembers me that way, as a toddler in Bombay, India (now Mumbai but it was Bombay when I lived there almost half a century ago and that’s what I still call it in my internal thought stream).

Mom would take me to the Queen’s Circle park in Bombay. I was such an outgoing, friendly child. If I saw an interesting stranger, I’d go over to say hello. I might walk off with them. This made life difficult for my mother, as she had to keep a sharp eye on me!