LETTER TO SELF Archives - Sweta Leena Panda

Life’s “Priorities Vs Cost”

Life doesn’t come in a book. It is a matter of time. Time rewrites your priorities. “ I find myself thinking a lot during quiet times, such as when the house is still, the children are sleeping, or the phone has finally stopped buzzing. In those moments of silence,

A Story of Lessons, Not Just Loss

“Love your partner with all your heart, not just your head. Because logic is the foundation, and emotion gives it life. “ Many people ask me, “Why aren’t I married yet?” It’s as if marriage were just another thing to cross off your list. Life has taught me to

The Story of a Woman in Her 30s

“Life may not always give you choices, but you can always choose how to live it.” I am in my 30s and live alone with purpose and peace. My journey was not blessed with privilege or constant support. It’s mine. Raw. Real. Resilient. How do you manage to do everything by

My Freelancing Journey: From Dreams to Reality

Everyone knows my name and the work I do, but few know the real story behind my journey—the struggles, the failures, and the moments that shaped me. Today, I want to share that story with you. EDUCATION The Early Days – A Life of Constant Change

Dear Destiny, Why Did You Choose Me?

I ask, Destiny: Why Did You Pick Me “The Whisper of the Unseen“ She stands on the shores of an ocean, toes buried in the sand, the wind bringing with it endless possibilities and rhythmic waves crashing onto shore like something whispering secrets only she can

An Unwritten Romance: Living Fully in the Absence of Love

“Perhaps love was never meant for me; maybe it is best appreciated from afar–like an exotic bird who never visits my garden.” Teenage Years (15-19): The Quiet Observer You were sitting by the window at school, watching your friends exude excitement over crushes with blushing cheeks

A Letter to Me Who Stayed Strong Too Long

Dear Me, You have been an unyielding fortress, indestructible, unmoving and withstanding every storm with silent resilience. You are the oak tree standing firm while winds howled around it, the mountain that withstood time’s erosion, the river that carved its path through stones unrepentant. But even