I am Pema & This is the way I am
From bullied schoolchild to celebrated fashion designer, Pema’s journey is one of heartbreak, resilience, and love. A touching tale of transformation, identity, and finding joy on one’s own terms, culminating in a powerful moment of self-acceptance and queer pride.
I first met him when I was in school—sixth standard, I think. My mother had just given me a disastrous haircut. I remember sobbing all afternoon, mourning the loss of my beautiful hair. The new style was short, uneven, and awkwardly framed my chubby cheeks, making me look even plumper. I walked to school the next day with dread in my heart and humiliation written all over my face. I am Pema and this is my story.
As expected, my classmates had a field day. The teasing was relentless. Their laughter echoed in my ears, cutting deeper than any words could. I’d sneak into the washroom during breaks and cry silently, washing my face in hopes no one would notice. It was just outside the washroom that I first saw him.
Well, not quite. My eyes were still watery, so I didn’t really see him—but he saw me. He offered me a Dairy Milk chocolate—my favourite. I looked up, startled, to find a handsome senior holding it out. It was none other than Ajay Mukhia, our school captain.
To be handed a chocolate by the Ajay Mukhia? I was floating on air.
I walked back to class with a smile sneaking up my face, only to be met by a swift slap from Mrs Das for being late. No questions asked, no explanations given. The classroom erupted in laughter again. That was my life in sixth standard—overweight, timid, and heartbreakingly vulnerable.
The bullies didn’t stop there. One of them even physically assaulted me on my way back from the canteen—spilled my drink, boxed my ears, and kicked me for no reason. The physical pain was bearable. It was his cruel words that truly wounded me.
When I returned to class, my teacher, Miss Gyatso, was horrified by my condition. She took me straight to the Principal. But I didn’t tell them who did it. I knew better. The teachers couldn’t protect me—my bullies were everywhere. In every classroom. Even at home.
Yes, even at home. My father, relatives, neighbours—all had something to say about the way I looked, walked, or talked. I began to believe them. I’d look in the mirror and see the most miserable, unloved twelve-year-old in the world.
________________________
Last night, those memories came flooding back in a dream.
This morning, I woke up nearly late—but it was a big day. My big day.
Today, at forty, I’m no longer that broken child. I’m Pema, one of India’s leading fashion designers. My label, Pema’s Creations, is worn by stars from Hollywood to Bollywood. And today, I was launching my new line—Pema’s Casuals—affordable, accessible fashion for the everyday person.
“You’ve come so far, my love,” said Ajay, pulling me into a tight embrace. His voice still had the same calm warmth that comforted me so many years ago, outside that washroom.
Yes, Ajay . The boy who offered me chocolate that day. He was seven years my senior, the school captain. But more importantly, he was the first person who ever saw me—truly saw me. Through the years, we grew close. He became my safe space. My flight, my anchor. My everything.
I had long cut ties with my toxic family. Today, Ajay and a handful of loyal friends were all the family I needed. We lived together in Mumbai, where he worked as a high-fashion model. We built our lives—quietly, bravely, and on our own terms.
After the show, we were celebrating at a posh restaurant. Laughter and congratulations were in the air. That’s when Ajay suddenly dropped to one knee.
He proposed—with his mother’s ring.
Gasps. Applause. Whispers. A few scowls and disapproving stares too. But I no longer cared. These people didn’t pick me up when I broke down. They weren’t there when I hovered on the edge of despair. They didn’t matter.
I said yes.
Ajay kissed me, and the crowd watched like we were beings from another planet.
Just then, a tall girl approached us. “Ma’am, you’re an inspiration,” she said, taking my hand. “I’m gay too. I’m here with my girlfriend. We follow your journey—we hope our love story turns out just as beautiful.”
She hugged me. Kissed me on both cheeks.
And I nearly cried. Because I knew—I knew—the journey ahead for her wouldn’t be easy. But I also knew this: when love is real, and when your partner truly sees and accepts you, life eventually surrenders its cruelty.
So here I am.
A forty-year-old, proud, successful, attractive man. About to marry the love of his life.
I no longer seek your approval. Your judgement doesn’t register. You don’t pay my bills, and you weren’t there during my lowest moments. You simply don’t exist.
I’ve been through betrayal, heartbreak, and years of ridicule. But I survived. I endured. And now, I thrive.
I’ve built my own world. On my terms. With love, resilience, and unapologetic truth.
And I wouldn’t change a single thing. Because I love who I am.
Just the way I am.
What's Your Reaction?
