everyone knows a version of you

and somehow, they're all a little right.

Funny how one person can exist in so many different ways in other people's minds.

To your parents, you're one person. To your siblings, you're someone else entirely. Your friends know a version of you that might never make an appearance at home. And the person you are when you're alone? Well, that's a whole different story.

Strangest part is that none of these versions is necessarily a lie. They're all you. Just not all of you.

At home, you're the rebellious one. The "isko toh bas apni marzi karni hai" kind of person. The one who questions things, disagrees, and wants to do things her own way. Your siblings might see you as immature, someone who still needs advice but is somehow expected to know better when things go wrong. And then there are your friends, who know you as bindaas, the one who laughs loudly, makes stupid jokes, and seems to have everything figured out.

In those moments, you really are happy. You really are rebellious. You really can be immature sometimes.

But being one thing doesn't mean you can't be another.

The person who argues with their parents might be the same person who spends hours worrying about whether they've disappointed them. The person who seems dependent on their siblings might be figuring out more things on their own than anyone realises. And the bindaas friend who makes everyone laugh might be the same person who goes quiet at night, replaying conversations and trying to make sense of things they haven't told anyone about.

None of these versions cancels the other out.

You can be confident around your friends and uncertain when you're alone. You can want independence and still need reassurance. You can make your own decisions and spend hours wondering whether you've made the right ones.

Toh kabhi kabhi you learn to deal with things privately. Not because nobody cares, but because you don't want to bother anyone. Everyone has their own problems, their own responsibilities, their own lives. So you tell yourself you'll figure it out. You'll deal with it tomorrow. It's not worth worrying anyone over.

And you do figure it out, most of the time.

You sort through your feelings, make peace with things, and carry on with your day. When someone asks if you're okay, you say yes because explaining everything feels exhausting, or because by then, you've already dealt with it yourself.

People see you moving on. They don't always see what it took.

Shayad that's where the misunderstanding begins. People get so used to one version of you that they forget there's more to discover. If you're always joking, they might not realise when something is bothering you. If you're known for being stubborn, they might not see the thought behind your decisions. If you're usually the one who manages on your own, people might assume you never need help.

But you don't blame them entirely, either. How can someone understand the parts of you that they've never seen?

We do the same thing to others. We mistake someone's confidence for certainty, their silence for indifference, or their independence for never needing anyone.

We forget that everyone has a life happening beyond what we get to witness.

That's why it's so weird to grow up while people already seem to have decided who you are. You're still figuring yourself out, but the labels have arrived before you have.

The rebellious one. The immature one. The funny one. The responsible one. The one who always knows what to do.

Between all these versions, you might find yourself wondering which one is the real you.

I guess that's the wrong question.

The person who laughs with her friends is just as real as the person who cries over something nobody else would understand. The person who makes independent decisions is just as real as the person who needs advice. You really are a little immature in some ways and surprisingly mature in others.

You don't have to be one consistent person to be a genuine one.

People know you through the moments they share with you. Your parents know you as their child. Your siblings know you through years of growing up together. Your friends know you through the laughter, the conversations, and the parts of yourself you feel comfortable sharing.

Their versions of you aren't necessarily wrong. They're just incomplete.

And you are allowed to be more than what someone has come to expect from you.

You don't have to correct every assumption or explain every contradiction. You don't have to prove that you're more mature than someone thinks, or pretend to be carefree just because that's the version everyone knows.

You're still growing. Still changing. Still discovering parts of yourself that even you don't completely understand yet.

The people who know you best aren't the ones who can describe you perfectly, but the ones who leave room for you to surprise them.

Because everyone knows a version of you.

And none of those versions has to be a lie for there to be so much more to your story. 🫶