The One With The First Birthday

We are 5 days late, but still.

Happy Belated 1st Birthday, Just Writing Stuff down, thank you for giving me a platform that I truly call my own, thank you for making me realise that writing is one of my better suits, thank you for making me a better thinker, better reader, better listener and a better person all in all. I truly am grateful for every word I've had the chance to write, every emotion I've had the chance to express, and every praise I've had the chance to cherish and every discussion I've had the chance to publish. 

I take this moment to thank my parents for always having my back for anything I may write about, my masi for telling me how much she loves my flair for writing, forcing me to keep going, to my grandparents for always feeling proud of me and telling me repeatedly that I have a "gift" , to Kaajal Aunty for commenting on every single post of mine and telling me how amazing she feels each time she reads a blog, and finally I thank me, for taking that one step and writing down that one blog last year!

23rd April 2026 marked one whole year since I started writing, and I don’t think I’ve processed that properly yet because in my head this still feels like something I “just started randomly one day.” But it’s been a year. A whole year of having too many thoughts, too many opinions, too many things to say—and finally having somewhere to put them without someone interrupting me mid-sentence or me overexplaining myself into a corner.

And I think that’s the biggest thing. I found my voice.

Not in some dramatic, movie-like “this is who I am” moment, but slowly, awkwardly, in paragraphs that didn’t always make sense and opinions that I wasn’t fully sure of yet. But I found it. And once I did, I don’t think I ever really stopped.

I always say this, but it’s true—I found my voice after the 2025 Pahalgam attacks.

Because that was the first time I felt too much and nothing at all at the same time. I remember just sitting there, reading everything, feeling this weird heaviness, and not knowing how to talk about it without sounding performative or completely off. It felt like one of those moments when you’re supposed to say something, but nothing you say feels right.

So I didn’t say anything. I wrote.

And that one impulsive decision—opening a document and just typing whatever came to my head without thinking, “Is this good enough?”—changed something. Because for the first time, I wasn’t trying to sound smart or correct or balanced. I was just trying to be honest.

And turns out, that works better. Since then, I have quite literally written about a million things.

And I mean that.

I have had thoughts on everything. On Instagram and how fake it gets. On friendships that break in ways you don’t expect and don’t fully recover from. On changing schools and feeling like you have to rebuild your personality from scratch. On exam seasons that make you question your intelligence, your worth, and your entire existence for a solid two weeks straight. On late nights, when your brain decides to bring up things from 2019 for absolutely no reason. On music from my dad's generation. On my love for cars.

On people who hurt you. On things you didn’t say. On things you said and wish you didn’t. And then on the most random things ever.

Like what actually makes a good outfit a good outfit. Or why some days you feel amazing, and the next day you feel like a completely different person. Or what makes chole bhature actually taste like chole bhature and not just… chole and bhature thrown together with bad vibes.

Because that’s the thing about me—I have thoughts on everything. Important things. Stupid things. Deep things. Completely unnecessary things. And for the longest time, all of that just stayed in my head. Now it doesn’t. I am, in the truest sense, Chandler Bing. On a regular day, I go through a million such thoughts in my head after reading something funny, hearing someone say something, or watching a reel.

And the best part? This never started as one of those “I need something for my college CV” projects. Never.

There was no strategy. No plan. No, “this will look good on applications.” If anything, it started at the worst possible time, in the most emotionally confusing way, with absolutely no guarantee that anyone would even read it, and frankly, I didn't ever do it for views. I did it because I needed a place to vent my feelings.

It was impulsive. And weirdly satisfying.

Like, there is something very addictive about putting your thoughts into words and going, “okay, this makes sense now.” Or even, “this doesn’t make sense, but at least it’s out.”

Over time, though, things started happening that I didn’t expect.

My writing got published in the school newspaper. I got selected for things like TED talks.

And I’m not saying this to show off—I’m saying this because it genuinely feels a little unreal that something that started as me just sitting and typing. After all, I didn’t know what else to do… turned into something that people actually read, actually relate to, actually value.

And I don’t think I’ve said this enough, but I’m really, really grateful for that.

Because not everyone finds a space where they can just… be honest. Without filters. Without trying to sound like something they’re not.

And I somehow did. Also, let’s address the inconsistency because we’re not going to pretend I’ve been writing every single week like some disciplined content machine.

It’s been almost two months since I last wrote. Do I have an excuse? Not really.

Life happened, yes. It was my birthday, the results were coming out, and Grade 12 started, and I just kinda lost myself in it.

So this blog isn’t some grand “I’m back” moment. It’s just me reminding myself why I started in the first place and how grateful I am to each and everyone who has pushed me to do better, to write more and keep this blog post going.

Writing, for me, has never been about having perfect clarity. Half the time, I write because I don’t understand what I’m feeling. I start with confusion and end with slightly less confusion.

That’s it. And I think I’ve made peace with that.

Because I don’t need every blog to have a strong conclusion or a powerful message or some life-changing takeaway.

Sometimes I just let it say, “This is what’s been sitting in my head,” and let it exist. And I think that’s what I’m most grateful for after this one year.

Not the recognition. Not the opportunities (although I am very grateful for those, too).

But the fact that I found a way to understand myself better.

To sit with my thoughts instead of running from them. To express things I wouldn’t say out loud. To be honest, even when it’s messy, even when it’s slightly uncomfortable, even when it doesn’t make me look the best.

Because at the end of the day, I didn’t start writing to impress anyone.

I started writing because my brain gets too loud sometimes.

And this is the only thing that quiets it down a little.

And I don’t think I’d trade that for anything.

So happy birthday to Just Writing Stuff Down, to me and to everybody who reads my blogs! See you stronger this year!

As ever,

Ambika