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A born screamer !

 Today’s Writing Prompt: When was the last time you screamed and why?

This blog is going to be in 4 parts. 

Part 1, 

(It was inspired by a post by one of my friends, The Life enhancing Life, asking her readers to open the gate, let all the emotions out. I had written this particular blog but never posted it.)

Hmm, that’s not a hard one to figure out.
I scream a lot — several times a day, in fact.

People often say I don’t have an indoor voice. Being loud is the first thing people notice about me.

I’m always loud. I laugh loud, I argue loud, I cheer loud. I suppose I was born a screamer.

But when I really think about it, maybe it’s not just about volume. Maybe it’s about who I am — and where I come from.

I was born a girl in the 70s, in India. Societal constraints dictated that I be quiet, submissive, agreeable. But I wasn’t. And that’s because my father wouldn’t allow it.

He raised me to have a voice — not just a whisper, but a roar when needed. He told me never to be shy, never to be afraid of anyone. Speak up. Be loud. Let the world know you’re here.

So, when was the last time I screamed? 

Yesterday, the day before, last year, a minute ago…. 

At my kids, husband, mom, dad, sisters, family, friends. 

Because I love them, because I was mad at them.

 I was yelling at the top of my lungs at a family gathering because laughter and stories deserved to be heard.

I was screaming in the stands cheering for my children .

I was yelling at my mother for not taking her pain medication.

I was screaming at someone...

Screaming is my LOVE language .

My screams are not always of anger or fear — they’re my way of claiming space, of refusing to be muted.

I was born a screamer. And I plan to keep screaming — for myself, for those who can’t, and sometimes, just because I can.

I’ve learned that my voice — loud, unfiltered, unapologetic — is a gift I owe to the little girl who refused to be silenced, and to the father who taught her how to roar.

May my screams remind others that it’s not only okay to take up space — it’s necessary. May they echo for every girl who was told to hush, for every story that deserves to be heard.

I was born a screamer. I’ll stay one. And I hope you find your roar too.

 


 

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