A letter to those who Know me.

(I’m writing this so I can breathe)

This is A.V.
An INFJ and a Virgo.
A person not built for the noise of society—because the presence of people, their gazes, their questions, their expectations, all seem to press in too close. Human closeness doesn’t comfort him—it freezes him.
He shies away from small talk, the way one avoids the cold touch of metal on a winter morning. Words spoken without depth feel like static in his ears. He rarely meets eyes, not out of disrespect, but because looking too closely feels like peeling away skin—too raw, too much.

He needs meaning—always. He can’t move without reason, without purpose. Every action must have a soul behind it. His heart doesn’t race at gold or applause—it flutters quietly at the sight of wild blue skies, of dew settling into green leaves, of rain on windows.

He recharges in silence, in stillness, alone.
He can go deep—so deep it might surprise you—but only in the soft privacy of one-on-one conversations. Put him in a group, and he fades into shadow, not from weakness, but from choice.

I am not like the beating drums or the dazzling fireworks—those bold and brilliant things.
No, I am like the hush of the summer breeze, the hush that makes you pause. Like the first drizzle that kisses the earth, gentle and soft. I don’t need to be loud to be felt. I carry my presence quietly, like a secret.
(Okay... maybe that did sound a little self-important. But it’s the truth as I know it.

So, the past year has been… strange. A little tangled.
After school ended, I joined PW.
(Physics Walla Vidyapeeth)
To study for NEET. 

It felt like the natural thing to do.
Feeling left behind, as friends moved onwards to college, the company of aspirants felt comforting. There was solemn in the shared struggle, the common goal, the quiet competition no one spoke about.
Met new people, some kind, some cutting,
And in those early months, I was glowing. My eyes had a certain shine. 
My wings—white and strong—felt ready to take me anywhere. 
I had reasons to become a doctor, so many. 
And I genuinely loved losing myself in study. It was like entering a trance where I didn't have to be
anyone else. 
It felt like I could win the world a dozen times over.
I wrote poems, I explored, I studied, I talked.
(And, yes—I ate dosa, probably too often.)

But somewhere along the way... something cracked. 
It wasn’t sudden, more like a slow fading—like colour washing out of a painting. 
The reasons I once clung to, the purpose that once felt so solid, began to feel like someone else's. 
It’s strange—how something that once felt so clear can start to feel like a story you memorised, not a truth you believed.

I realised it all a lot late.
And I suffered for that.
In oblivion of what I want, I treded the path of what others expected of me. Because of what I said in the past.
My wings darkened. My eyes lost their shine. 
Studying became hollow—like forcing a flower to bloom in winter. 
And in that quiet torment, my own mind turned against me. 
The pressure to pretend was louder than the will to push through.

Now I look back and see, I think it was because I saw death, that's why I wanted to be a doctor. For
others sake, not for mine. 

It took me a long time to admit that to myself. 
And only a month before NEET, I understood what I really wanted. 
Psychology. 
Not just as a subject, but as a language—one that finally spoke to all the quiet places inside me.
I talked to some teachers, some close friends. 
But family? Others? 
How do you explain a change of heart when they’ve only ever heard one version of your dream?

It’s hard. 
It’s hard opening messages filled with hope and expectation,
It’s hard knowing people are rooting for a version of you that no longer exists.

I don’t have all the answers. 
But I know what feels true.
To those who love me—I’m still me.
Just a version of me that’s finally listening to her own voice.
So if you ask me what I’m doing after NEET... 
’ll say: I’m finally starting.
A.V