Hey! Confession: My name isn't really Priya.

I know, I know. We just started this thing, and I've already lied to you. Sort of.

My legal name isn't Priya, but it's the name I was given when I lived in a Hare Krishna temple that summer I was, like, seven or eight. I also have a Chinese name. What, why? I'm part-Chinese (it's such a small fraction, I don't even know why I brought it up!), and I went to a Chinese school for a couple of years.

I like my 'real' names (I have three because in my culture who doesn't have a minimum of at least two first names?), but I also like the name Priya. Wikipedia says it means "dear, beloved." My biological mother told me it means "love". That was one of the last times I talked to her, well, Facebook messaged.

I'm reading this post over and thinking it sounds really convoluted and made up. Like, wow this girl really wants attention. I guess I had a colourful childhood.

Like...

When I was around four, my bio mom Sachi (who at the time was not yet Sachi) ran off with me and my infant brother. We lived in the slums. I remember sleeping on a thin plastic mat on concrete. I also remember feeling free.

When I was five (I think I was five), I was playing with our landlord's daughter. By then, my dad had lost all his money but had gotten a respectable job. She told me if I couldn't catch the balloon she tossed up, creatures would take over the world. I lunged for it... and missed. I listened to her detail how monsters were taking over, and my dad was struggling to get us to us. How he died. I cried.

Later, my dad picked me up. I don't think I played with her again. (Children are cruel.)

When I was seven...

Huh. Not sure why I'm sharing all of this. It's not that interesting.


Um. My name is Priya, sort of. I'll go by Priya for this blog. I guess I'll talk about my life, corsets, TV and whatever else I can think of. Mostly I'll talk about me.

I'm not sure why I started this blog. (Lie.)

I guess I want to talk about myself to someone who wants to listen. (True.) I don't want to talk to a counsellor; they never care. I don't want to talk to my parents. I don't feel like talking to my boyfriend. I don't really open up to my friends anymore.

Maybe I do want the attention. But I wouldn't lie. I'm too tired all the time.

Welcome to my lifestyle blog! There isn't much, but I hope you get a kick out of it. Even if it's only a teensy tiny bit.

xx Priya

P.S. The title? It's totes a throwback to that Camp Rock 2 song.

P.P.S. First image edited from Unsplash by Caleb Thal. Second image is from my webcam.