I Grew. The Room Didn't

A woman once looked me up and down and laughed:

“Send a barking dog after her—make her run.”

I didn’t explode. I didn’t cry.

I said—calmly—“I live alone. I need to look strong. And I’m happy in my body.”

I Did the “Right” Things and I Still Feel Wrong

I healed. I grew. I stayed soft.

So why am I still the one feeling the air thicken, the weight in my chest?

Everyone moved on. My body didn’t.

My chest stayed tight for hours, like I’d swallowed a fist.

That’s the thing about words: they leave the air quickly—but they stay in the body.

I’ve been on both sides of the scoreboard.

As a kid, hospital-thin with liver issues—people “joked” about my scrawny frame.

Later, after moving countries, scraping by as a vegetarian, surviving long hours and constant stress—I gained weight.

And the jokes didn’t stop.

Different body. Same shame.

I’ve worked in minus-30 winters. Learned new skills. Paid my own bills. Kept going when no one clapped. This body has carried me.

And here’s the part that stings: I know I’m not the only one. Maybe you’ve felt it too. Doing everything “right,” carrying yourself through storms—then one room makes you feel like you don’t belong.

You healed. You grew. You stayed soft.

So why are you still the one carrying what isn’t yours?

Because it was never about your effort.

It’s not you—it’s the environment. Some spaces are designed to keep you small, no matter how much you’ve grown.

When you stop playing by old rules—people notice. That knot under your ribs isn’t proof you messed up.

It’s proof you no longer fit the role they expect you to play.

When you feel this heaviness, remind yourself:

• Tension in the room doesn’t mean you did something wrong. It means your growth just collided with someone else’s comfort zone.

• That’s not evidence you’re broken. That’s evidence you’ve changed.

Awareness is powerful—but awareness alone isn’t enough. When the room gets heavy, you need more than awareness. You need a plan.

It’s not that you’re too much. It’s that they’ve built comfort around you being less.

Fast Reframe

Tension ≠ you did something wrong.

That knot in the room is just your growth brushing up against someone else’s comfort.

That collision isn’t proof you’re broken—it’s proof you’ve changed.

What to Do Right Away (When the Tension Hits You)

1. Name it (silently): This discomfort is the room’s story—not mine.

2. Breathe it out: Inhale for 4, exhale for 6. Repeat 8 rounds. (Longer exhales tell your body you’re safe.)

3. Anchor your body: Plant both feet on the ground. Unclench your jaw. Drop your shoulders. (Signal: you’re not in danger, you’re in choice.)

4. Set one clear boundary (say it once, calmly):

   • Body: “I don’t discuss my body. Let’s keep that off-limits.”

   • Work: “Please tell me the exact issue so I can address it.”

   • Family: “I’m not available for comparisons. New topic?”

   
   

5. Exit if needed: “I’m grabbing water—be right back.” (Movement breaks the freeze response.)

   
   

Remember: This isn’t about winning the moment. It’s about not abandoning yourself inside it.

Aftercare (so the knot doesn’t follow you home)

Walking away doesn’t mean the weight leaves right away. Sometimes the tightness travels with you—into your car, your kitchen, even your bed. Here’s how to shake it off so it doesn’t unpack itself in your chest:

• Remind yourself of the truth: Write or say one line: “Here’s what I stood for. Here’s what I refuse to carry.”

• Move it out of your body: Roll your shoulders, shake your wrists, stretch your face. 30 seconds. Doesn’t have to look pretty. Just move.

• Thank the part of you that held you up: “Thank you legs, for getting me through today.” “Thank you voice, for speaking up.” Be specific, not cute.

Reality check: Did you actually betray one of your values? If no, then drop the shame—it isn’t yours.

Healing isn’t about never feeling heavy again. It’s about not letting other people’s weight live rent-free inside you.

Boundaries You Can Actually Use

Boundaries don’t have to be complicated or “perfect.” They can be simple, short, and direct. Like this:

• Redirect: “That’s not helpful. What is helpful is…”

• Close it down: “I already answered this. If there’s something new, email me.”

• Name the pattern (lightly): “This keeps coming up. Let’s set a clear standard.”

• Hard stop: “No.” One word. A full sentence.

Every time you say “no,” you’re not being difficult—you’re shutting the door on an old story that no longer fits you.

If You’re Still Spiraling

Sometimes, even after you leave, your mind won’t quit replaying the moment. That doesn’t mean you’re weak—it just means you’re human.

When you catch yourself spinning, try this:

1. Ask: Is this even mine to carry?

2. Act small: Is there one action I can take right now? (Send the text, eat the meal, leave the room.)

3. Find a witness: Message someone safe: “I don’t need advice, just a witness.”

Spirals break when you stop carrying them alone.

Tiny Practices That Actually Help

Big change comes from tiny daily shifts. Not flashy—just doable.

• Clothes: Wear what your body can breathe in today, not what you’re saving for “when you’re better.”

• Food: Don’t starve all day only to fight with yourself at 7pm. Feed your body earlier.

• People/places: Spend more time where you don’t have to defend your right to exist.

  
  

Healing isn’t a glow-up. It’s building a life where you don’t have to apologize just for being in the room.

Scripts for When You Freeze

Sometimes you need the words in your pocket before the moment hits. Use these, copy/paste them, make them yours:

• Body comment: “I don’t take body feedback. Let’s talk about something else.”

• Work vagueness: “Can you send specifics or an example? I’ll handle it.”

• Family/wedding pressure: “We’re keeping it simple on purpose. If you want to help, here are two options.”

• Repeated prodding: “Asked and answered. Moving on.”

Scripts don’t make you fake. They make you free.

You did the work.

You’re not just softer—you’re stronger.

And if the room tightens the moment you refuse to shrink?

Let it.

Because that heaviness doesn’t belong to you. It’s theirs.

And for once—you don’t have to carry it home.

About Me:

My name is Anjla , and I’m a life and career transition coach.

I’m not here to fix you. I’m here to help you see what’s been draining you, gaslighting you, and keeping your nervous system in overdrive. I work with sensitive, smart, soulful people who are tired of spiritual bypassing and want grounded transformation. If this hit home — you’re not alone, and you don’t have to keep white-knuckling through it.

📬 Want support?

Let’s talk. (514) 970-7077 or Sidhu.anjla@gmail.com