The girl who still trying

My name is Meera Sharma. I am 27 years old and I live in Mansarovar, Jaipur. From outside, my life may look normal. I have a family, a decent education and everything a person needs to live. But there was a time when I felt completely lost. I honestly thought my life was over. It all started with a breakup. His name was Arjun Mehta. We were together for almost four years. He was a big part of my life. We used to talk about everything—our careers, our families, marriage, even the kind of house we would have one day. I really believed he would stay with me for the rest of my life. But sometimes the person you think is your forever becomes just a chapter of your life. Arjun left me in January 2022. There was no cheating or any huge fight. One day, he simply told me, “Meera, I don't think we can continue this relationship.” I kept asking him, “Why? What did I do wrong?” But he had no clear answer. I cried a lot. I called him many times. I sent him long messages. I kept thinking that maybe he would realise his mistake and come back. I waited for months. He never came back. The breakup was painful, but losing myself after the breakup was even more painful. At that time, I was preparing for government exams. I had completed my studies and wanted to build a good career. I wanted to become financially independent and make my parents proud. But after the breakup, I just couldn't focus on anything. My books were open on the table, but I couldn't study even one page properly. I would sit for hours just thinking about him. Sometimes I would check his social media and make myself even more miserable. Slowly, my studies started getting affected. I missed opportunities. I failed exams. And with every failure, my confidence went down. My mother, Sushma, used to call me from our hometown near Ajmer and ask, “Beta, how are you? Everything is fine?” I always replied, “Yes, Mummy, I am fine.” But the truth was completely different. I was not fine at all. My friends were also moving ahead with their lives. Some got jobs, some got married and some moved to different cities. Everyone seemed busy with their own life. I didn't blame anyone, but there were many nights when I badly wished I had someone to talk to. At 27, I started feeling that I was too late. I used to compare myself with other girls all the time. “She is younger than me and already has a job.” “She is married.” “She has a successful career.” “And what am I doing?” I had no answers. I felt like I had failed in love, failed in my career and somehow even failed as a person. Then came 5 February 2025. That evening, I went to Jal Mahal alone. I don't know why I went there. Maybe I just wanted to get out of my room. I sat quietly and watched the water for a long time. Suddenly, I started crying. Not because I missed Arjun. Not because I failed my exams. I was crying because I was tired—tired of pretending that I was okay, tired of comparing myself with everyone and tired of feeling sorry for myself. That night, for the first time, I spoke to myself honestly. I said, “Meera, enough. You have already lost so much time. Don't lose yourself also.” That one thought changed something inside me. I decided to start again. I didn't have any big plan. I was still confused. I was still scared. But I started studying again, even if it was just for two hours a day. I updated my resume, started applying for jobs and tried to learn new skills. I also started going for evening walks at Central Park. Nothing changed overnight. I still had bad days. I still cried sometimes. I still remembered the past. But slowly, I started feeling better. Today, I still don't know exactly where my life is going. Maybe I will get a government job. Maybe I will work in a private company. Maybe I will do something completely different. But one thing has changed. I no longer think that being 27 means my life is finished. I have lost a relationship. I have lost important years of my career. I have lost people I thought would always stay. But I have not lost myself completely. I am still here. Still trying. Still learning. Still hoping. And maybe starting again at 27 is not a failure. Maybe it is just another beginning.