Two years ago, when I first joined this chaotic, bustling government hospital in Mumbai, I was just a fresh graduate, a ‘baby nurse’ as they called us. But my journey here truly began even before that, in a different department, observing. Observing everything, really. Especially the women, the nurses who ran these wards like their own homes, sacrificing so much. And observing how little of it was ever truly seen, truly appreciated. My heart ached for them, a familiar ache. Because, not long before, my own heart had been broken by a similar lack of recognition in a relationship I’d poured my soul into.
My Anonymous Acts of Love: Healing Past Wounds, One Smile at a Time.
Published Anonymously
Submitted by a real person and published with their consent. Identity is never revealed.