Heartbreak in Bloom: My Love Story Too ‘Abnormal’ For a Florist
I remember feeling so light, so full of joy that day. It was a special occasion, and I was picking out a bouquet for my boyfriend at a small, fragrant flower shop tucked away in our local market lane. The air was thick with the sweet scent of jasmine and roses, and I was already picturing his smile.
An older aunty, who seemed to run the shop, came over, her initial smile warm and inviting. "Aww, beta, are these beautiful roses for your *saheli*?" she cooed, her eyes twinkling. Usually, I'd just offer a vague nod, avoid the discomfort, but that day, something felt different. I felt a surge of courage, an urge to simply be honest, to own my truth. "No, aunty," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady, "they're for my boyfriend."
The change in her demeanour was instant and chilling. Her smile vanished, replaced by a harsh frown. Her eyes narrowed. "Boyfriend?" she scoffed, as if I'd uttered something utterly perverse. "You're far too young for *all this*. This isn't normal." The words hit me like a physical blow. A sudden flush of heat rushed to my cheeks – a mix of anger, shock, and a deep, mortifying shame she was trying to inflict. "How am I too young for a boyfriend, but not a girlfriend, aunty?" I challenged, my voice trembling despite my best efforts. Her face hardened further, attracting the hushed glances of other customers. "I won't sell to you," she declared, her voice loud enough to carry. "This isn't *sanskari*. Get out!"
Being told to leave, treated like an outcast, while the vibrant colours of the flowers blurred before my tear-filled eyes, was utterly humiliating. All I wanted was to buy a simple bouquet, a gesture of love, and instead, I was made to feel like my very existence, my love, was an offence. It’s a constant, aching battle, isn't it? Just to exist, just to love openly, without judgment. My heart still aches from that sting, a raw reminder of how much acceptance we still have to fight for, every single day, in every corner of our lives.
Anonymous confession. Share yours at Tell It There.










