Lessons School Didn’t Teach Me About Guilt, Boundaries, and Finding My Voice
The most important lessons school didn’t teach me had nothing to do with textbooks. They surfaced later through lived experience, difficult realisations, and the quiet courage to rethink what I once accepted as truth.
The Silence I Learned Early
My convent school shaped the early definition of virtue. Teachers admired quiet girls. In fact, we were told ” Girls should be seen, not heard”.Strong opinions rarely received encouragement. The message was subtle yet consistent: a well-brought-up girl does not speak too much.
Fear reinforced that conditioning. Even small lies carried warnings of divine punishment. Guilt followed naturally. Whenever mistakes happened, the chapel became the place to seek forgiveness. I was always given the Good Conduct badge, and I was the teacher’s favourite.
Over time, silence became instinctive rather than intentional. That training did not disappear after graduation.
When Guilt Became My Default Setting
Adulthood carried the same patterns forward. I spoke gently, avoided confrontation, and apologised before anyone demanded one. If I withheld information to protect myself, guilt surfaced. If I asserted a preference, anxiety followed.
Because approval felt safer than disagreement, I gave freely. Time, emotional labour, and energy flowed outward without calculation. Generosity felt virtuous; depletion felt private.
Eventually, exhaustion forced reflection.
I began to notice how often I sacrificed comfort to maintain harmony. I also noticed how easily people accepted that sacrifice. The more available I remained, the less visible my limits became. That realisation changed everything.
What Life Taught Me Instead
Experience proved to be a far stricter teacher than school. Disappointment revealed an imbalance. Overgiving exposed emotional cost. Gradually, I understood that kindness without boundaries invites quiet resentment.
Once I began protecting my time, dynamics shifted. Clear limits created clarity in relationships. Fewer apologies reduced anxiety. Honest conversations strengthened self-respect.
Life taught me that goodness does not require self-erasure. Compassion does not demand self-neglect. Strength can exist without harshness.
Those insights never appeared in any curriculum.
How Travel Expanded My Perspective
Travel added another layer to this education. Exposure to different cultures disrupted the narrow definitions I had internalised. In some communities, women expressed themselves without hesitation. In others, faith is centred on celebration rather than fear.
History offered context. Geography fostered humility. Language revealed identity.
Through travel, I realised that many beliefs I once considered universal were simply local traditions. That awareness loosened the grip of guilt. Perspective replaced fear. Curiosity replaced judgment. The world became larger, and my inner world expanded with it.
The Most Valuable Lesson of All
Among all the lessons school didn’t teach me, one stands above the rest: my voice does not diminish my virtue.
Today, I remain generous, but I measure my giving. I care deeply, but I protect my peace. I speak thoughtfully, yet I no longer silence myself to appear agreeable.
Education gave me structure. Experience gave me resilience. Travel gave me perspective. Life gave me discernment.
@wordsmithkaur
@wordsmithkaur
