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Posts by Nayla Mitha

Nayla Mitha is a writer and artist who also happens to have a day job, a brain that won’t quit, and a long-standing fascination with what it means to be human. Raised across two continents and four countries, she brings the texture of a deeply lived life to her creations. Nayla’s writing and artwork invite you to stop hiding what doesn't "fit" and start seeing it as richness, trusting that you can hold multitudes and still be whole.

Nayla Mitha's Website

How Getting Dressed Became a Love Letter to Myself

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“Style is a way to say who you are without having to speak.” ~Rachel Zoe

I didn’t set out to find myself.

I just looked in the mirror one day and thought, “Wait, when did I stop looking like me?”

It was after a breakup—the kind that leaves you foggy, emotionally threadbare, trying to make sense of where you lost yourself.

There I was, standing in my bedroom, wearing something functional, outdoorsy, and… completely not me.

Not that there’s anything wrong with cargo pants and fleece. If that’s your style, it’s beautiful.

But I’m a woman who grew up in …

The Truth About Repressing Emotions: Lessons from a Child’s Meltdown

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“Cry as often as you need to. It’s the all-purpose healing balm of the soul.” ~Karla McLaren, The Language of Emotions: What Your Feelings Are Trying to Tell You

A few years ago, a good friend invited me to his six-year-old daughter’s birthday party.

As I walked through his front door, I was greeted by the cheerful sound of children running around, their tiny feet pounding on the hardwood floor as they expertly avoided the table full of gifts in the living room.

Their parents looked just as excited, many enjoying the opportunity to finally have adult conversations (even …

How to Love Yourself into Speaking Up When You’re Frozen in Fear

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“Always speak the truth, even if your voice shakes.” ~Unknown

You may not want to admit this to others, but I know the truth about you.

You freeze, clam up, and shut down when tensions rise and your spidey-sense detects a hint of conflict in the air. You run for cover during the storm, and when it’s over, you judge yourself for not having delivered the perfect soliloquy in the heat of the moment to convey your point and get what you need and deserve.

And then you collapse into a hot mess of blame and shame.

I get it. …