Skills No One Teaches You

I knew someone once.

He built a story around an exam he never took.

A degree he never earned.

He claimed it, untill…

Lying comes naturally.

So does the calm face that hides it.

Survival is instinct.

Not just in the forest. In the crowd, the office, the family table too.

The moment your dignity takes a hit.

Something inside quietly takes over.

We fake anger like flipping a switch.

We summon sadness when it serves us.

We forget things on purpose.

We even stammer just to buy time.

Some smile through tension.

Some crack jokes.

Some disappear into their phones.

No rehearsal. No stage.

Yet performed with quiet perfection.

Embarrassment is almost certain.  

But the urge to escape is stronger.

We all play this game.

What’s your survival move?

I explore these quiet shifts on Instagram. 

Catch me👉 @myteega

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The Space Between

I almost punched a classmate once, over a pen.

My teacher stopped me.

He pointed to the board:

"The pen is mightier than the sword."

He asked: "See the space between the two words  ‘pen’ and 'is’?  Without it, what would be the meaning?"

I was just ten.  Years later, I understood:

Space matters.

We don't write much, anymore.

We type.  We tap.  We post.

Handwriting once forced space between thoughts and words.

Ink slowed us down long enough to shape what we actually meant.

Now everything runs together.

We no longer write to think.

We type to respond.

I don't own a pen anymore.

Not because I lost it.

Because I stopped needing one.

A doctor friend once told me:

Children who write by hand score higher on comprehension tests, because they slow down to think what they are writing.

Yes, the pen thinks.

The keyboard reacts.

Somewhere in between we lost the space that made meaning possible.

I explore these quiet shifts on Instagram. 

Catch me👉 @myteega

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When Mind Freezes and Body Fails to Respond

The gate creaked open.

Her golden retriever, desperate for affection, leapt from the second-floor balcony.

A heavy thud.

She froze.

She wanted to run to him. Her legs wouldn't move.

She wanted to scream. No sound came out.

Someone had pressed pause on her life forcing her to watch every painful spasm.

This is helplessness.

Not weakness. Not cowardice.

Just the mind meeting something too huge to process.

Your brain doesn't shut down because it's failed you.

It shuts down because it's unable to process.

The body goes still.

The soul steps back.

And you stand there - fully present, yet completely absent.

The worst part isn't the freezing.

It's watching yourself freeze.

Knowing. Wanting to move. Yet unable to move.

Maybe that's what helplessness actually is.

You aren't alone. 

Others have been here before, and have moved on.

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