You're not the only one.

"Freshly married and barely a week into living at my in-laws’ house, I got my period. Naturally, I had to ask my mother-in-law where I could dispose of my pad. She showed me the place, and then casually added, Oh, now there’s no need for all this period business anymore.Translation: You’re married now. Time to start making babies. I was too stunned to respond, so I just pasted a smile on my face, disposed of the pad, and walked away."

Chechi replies

Oooh just one week in, ah! Well, all I can tell is you that I have been there. And trust me, that's not a comment about periods, that's an announcement about what she expects your body to start doing, because that's what happened with her as well. And yes, you might lament over why she wants the same for her DIL, that's an answer we don't have yet, maybe not even her. And the smile you pasted wasn't you being weak. It was you doing quick math, no standing yet in that house, nowhere safe to push back, so you just got through the moment. That's not failure, that's instinct. But don't let it disappear just because you smiled through it. File it. The next time someone in that house drops a line like this, you don't need a speech and you don't need silence either. Just a flat "we'll decide that ourselves" and then walk off, same as you did with the pad.

— Chechi

"I was seeing someone earlier this year and when she came back from a work trip, I told her I'd missed her, genuinely, nothing dramatic about it. She laughed a little and said aww, don't be so needy like it was cute but also like it was a bit much. I laughed it off too in the moment but it sat with me for weeks. I haven't said anything like that to anyone since, not even close. Now I catch myself waiting for the other person to text first, deleting messages before I send them if they sound "too into it," basically running a filter on myself at all times so I never come across as needy again. I hate how careful I've become. I used to just say things."

Chechi replies

Eda, one woman laughing at your feelings is not a verdict on your feelings, it's information about her comfort with intimacy. You took it as information about yourself instead, and now you're editing your whole personality down to a size that protects everyone else's fear of closeness except your own need to be honest. Missing someone and saying so is not needy. What you've done since, running every text through a filter, deleting the honest version before you hit send, that's the actual damage sitting in this story. That's you punishing yourself for something she flinched at. You don't owe anyone a smaller version of yourself to make loving them feel safe for them. Say the thing next time. If someone laughs at it again, that's still their answer about themselves, not homework for you to fix.

— Chechi

"My dad has this way of saying "beta, ab settle ho jao" that makes it sound like a checklist I forgot to finish. Get the promotion, get the flat, get the wife, in that exact order, like a level in a video game. I make good money for my age but not "put a down payment on a 2BHK in GK" money, and every single wedding conversation eventually turns into a quiet conversation about my CTC and my EMI capacity. Last week an uncle asked me straight up what my "take home" was before he asked what I actually did all day. I felt like a loan application getting reviewed, not a person someone might want to know. I keep wondering if I'm supposed to want the flat and the timeline as much as everyone assumes I do, or if it's just easier to nod along."

Chechi replies

Eda, "settled" was never a feeling in this country, it's a spreadsheet with your name in the header row and everyone else's fear typed into the columns underneath. You've clocked that already, which puts you ahead of most men who don't clock it until they're forty and still measuring their worth against a flat they never actually wanted. A man who's actually settled knows what his life is for. Not what his salary slip says, not what his EMI eligibility looks like on some uncle's mental spreadsheet. You can build the flat and the rest of it eventually, sure, on your own timeline, for your own reasons. But if you let the EMI write your love life's schedule, you'll end up marrying whoever fits your father's spreadsheet, not whoever fits you. Tell your dad the flat can wait a year. Tell yourself the same thing first.

— Chechi

"I had a rishta call last week and the guy's mother spent the first ten minutes asking about my complexion, whether I do something to keep myself "fair" and if I'd done my schooling in a convent, and what all I know how to cook. Not one question about what I actually do for work, even though I run a whole team now. My mother sat next to me nodding along like this was normal, like it was a fair question to ask a grown woman on a video call. Later that night I found myself scrolling through old photos deciding which one looked "fairer" for the next round. I have an MBA. I closed a six figure account this year. And I was picking a photo based on lighting like I was fifteen again. I hate that some old aunty's checklist still has this much power over how I see my own face."

Chechi replies

You didn't fail here. You got handed a checklist written before your mother was even born, and for ten minutes you tried to pass it anyway. That's not weakness, that's conditioning working exactly as designed. Here's what that checklist is actually measuring: whether you'll be easy to control. Complexion, convent, "homely," none of it is really about you, it's about how much of yourself they think they can shrink before you notice. You noticed. That's the whole win. The next family that asks about your shade before your work is telling you everything about the marriage you'd be signing up for. Let them ask. Then let them go. Send the photo where the lighting is bad and you're laughing anyway.

— Chechi

"I told someone I was okay with casual because I thought I could handle it. At first it felt cool. No pressure, no labels, just fun. But now I wait for their texts. I get jealous when they mention other people. I pretend I am chill, but inside I am calculating everything. How fast they replied. Whether they used a heart. Whether they want to meet on a weekend or only randomly. I feel stupid because I agreed to this. Can I change my mind now or is that unfai?"

Chechi replies

Changing your mind after your feelings change is not unfair. It is honest. You agreed to casual with the information you had then. Now you have new information: your heart has entered the chat wearing slippers and holding tea. You cannot pretend it is not there. Casual only works when both people are genuinely peaceful inside it. Not performing peace. Not crying after the auto ride home. Not checking whether they are online and calling it “just curiosity.” Actually peaceful. If you are now attached, jealous, anxious, or waiting, the arrangement is no longer casual for you. That does not make you weak. It makes you human. Tell them clearly: “I thought I was okay with casual, but I have realised I want more than that. I do not want to continue this unless we are moving toward something clearer.” Then let them answer. Do not dress it up as a joke. Do not say, “Haha I think I caught feelings, silly me.” No. Stand beside your own truth like a grown woman. If they want the same thing, you can talk. If they do not, you leave. Not because they are bad. Because staying would mean pretending to be cool while slowly becoming smaller. Also, please do not keep accepting the arrangement just because you “agreed in the beginning.” Consent to a dynamic is not a lifelong subscription. You are allowed to cancel when it starts costing your peace.

— Chechi

"I am 29 and my parents have started full marriage pressure. Every other conversation is about settling down. They keep showing me profiles and then get irritated when I say no. If I say I do not like someone, they say I am too picky. If I say I want emotional maturity, they say these things come after marriage. If I say I want attraction also, they look at me like I have committed a crime.I am not against marriage. I just do not want to marry someone because everyone is tired of waiting.How do I say no without becoming the villain at home?"

Chechi replies

Parents sometimes treat marriage like a train you must board before the platform closes. They worry about age, relatives, safety, society, and their own fear of “what will happen later.” Some of that worry comes from love. Some comes from pressure. But none of it means you should hand your life to someone just because the family WhatsApp group is restless. You do not need to fight every profile like it is a court case. Say this: “I am open to meeting people. But I will not say yes to someone just to reduce pressure. I need basic compatibility, respect, emotional maturity, and attraction. If those are missing, I will say no.” Then stop over-explaining every rejection. When you explain too much, people start negotiating. “But he has a good job.” “But his family is nice.” “But attraction will come.” No. You are not buying a sofa where colour can be adjusted later. Make your criteria boringly clear: “I am not rejecting marriage. I am rejecting this match.” Repeat that line. Soft voice. Steel spine. And yes, they may call you picky. Let them. Better picky now than quietly miserable later while everyone says, “Adjust, mole, adjustment is marriage.” Choosing the wrong person and then calling your sadness adjustment is not wisdom.

— Chechi

"It feels blah. I thought he was into me, then I realised maybe he's just into the idea od having a plus 1."

Chechi replies

It's okay da. Move on.

— Chechi

"It's been a while since we did the deed, you know. And I have reminded him and told him outright that I want to. But he's just not picking up any cues."

Chechi replies

Oh honey. First of all, kudos to you for initiating it, and I hear you. Maybe instead of saying let's do it. Plan a sexy night. Set the mood, make him feel and not said.

— Chechi