If home is not a safe place

“She Was Afraid of Light… And No One Asked Why.”

I entered the hostel carrying a suitcase full of clothes and a heart full of fear.

Home had become a war zone.

I just wanted silence.

Books. Music. Peace.

I was the quiet one—introvert, lost in pages, numb more than sad.

Fate first placed me with two lively, happy biotechnology students.

For the first time, I felt light.

I laughed. I belonged.

Then one day, the warden came.

Room changed.

New roommate—an Ayurveda student.

My classmate.

The first month was normal.

Then slowly, things changed.

She feared even the smallest sounds.

Bright light hurt her eyes.

She stopped talking.

She withdrew… completely.

I didn’t understand.

I didn’t know what was happening inside her.

Hostel food became unbearable.

Nine of us shifted to a paying guest accommodation.

She couldn’t adjust to the crowd.

Her health worsened.

Severe headaches.

Hospital visits.

Even then—her parents stayed distant.

Emotionally absent.

One day, during my house surgency, she came running to me.

Smiling.

Happy.

She hugged me tightly when she heard my marriage was fixed.

I was shocked. Later, I learned her story.

A home filled with conflict. Constant fights. A brother groomed to be an MBBS doctor.

All attention. All pride. And her?

Invisible. Unheard. Unprotected.

This post is not to blame parents. Many parents love deeply.

But let me ask you something— Do you express that love at every age?

Stop comparing your children. Stop shouting for small mistakes. Yes, glasses break. Yes, expensive things get damaged.

But tell me— Who is more valuable? Your child… or that object?

Be gentle—especially at home.

Because outside, your child will face: Comparison. Criticism. Ego clashes. Harsh words.

If home is not a safe place… Where will they go to feel safe?