A personal journey through growth, healing, and emotional maturity
I have always been a fan of personal development topics. Human behavior fascinates me, and I’ve spent years reflecting on my personality. I’ve often admired women who carry themselves with finesse, grace, education, and a worldly sophistication. I would see them from afar, secretly wishing I could be one of them.
The idea of being a “woman of the world” has always captivated me. But given my background, upbringing, environment, and even what I believe are inherited behavioral tendencies, it often felt like an impossible dream. Still, deep inside, I whispered to myself, Why not try? If nothing else, it could be a fun and meaningful journey.
As a child, I always felt like I was different. I lived in my little world. I was introverted, but I quickly realized that to make life easier, I had to learn how to function in a world that didn’t always align with my energy. So, I read books about personal growth, self-improvement, and character development. I took numerous personality tests, but the MBTI test provided me with the most closure. I am an INTJ (introverted, intuitive, thinking, judging), which helped me make sense of the logical yet chaotic way my mind works.
Even so, the most challenging part of growing up and becoming who I am has been dealing with people. I struggled to understand even my own family, let alone the rest of the world. I never really said anything out loud. I had many acquaintances but only a few close friends. And the friends I did have were often just as unconventional as I was. I gravitated toward the creative, the misfits, and the flamboyant souls. Even those relationships were not always easy. I’ve always had my standards, my inner rulebook, and ideas that didn’t always align with what others considered “normal.” At times, I truly felt like an alien in a human suit.
However, I’m also aware that I’m not perfect. It’s my responsibility to grow, soften, and evolve not just for others, but for myself. That’s what personal development is: the commitment to become better, even if it’s uncomfortable. I’ve come to believe that this constant work on myself is the very path toward becoming the version I want to be.
I was fortunate to marry a mature man who focused on my positive qualities and understood the wounds I was carrying inside. Navigating a partnership has not been easy, especially since I wasn’t fully healed when it began. I’ve tried to grow along the way, but there have been painful moments. I wasn’t entirely ready when I said “yes” to this journey, but I have shown up for it, fulfilling my obligations and honoring my commitment to the best of my ability.
I have always desired a partner who is older, supportive, and emotionally intelligent: someone seasoned by life and able to understand me in ways most people can’t. It takes a particular kind of insight to see someone like me truly. But I also know I must become the kind of woman who deserves such a man. And the truth is, it has been hard. It is even harder now as I begin to face the biological shifts that come with the onset of menopause. The emotional intensity, the unpredictability. It’s like meeting a new version of myself daily.
In moments of reflection, I am lucky to receive some reinforcement from my husband, who shares quotes, poems, or literary pieces to help me achieve comfort and clarity. Recently, I received a piece that resonated deeply with me. This poem gave me insight, not only into relationships but into my behavior as a woman growing through different seasons of life.
Marriage Is Not for the Immature, Explosive, or Destructive Woman
by Kata Mutiara
Let’s stop sugarcoating madness.
Some women never grow up.
They age. They work. They even marry.
But deep inside?
They’re still toddlers in makeup.
And marriage to them feels like babysitting—with a ring.
Let’s break it down:
If Her First Language Is Tears, She’s Not Ready for Marriage
You can’t reason with her.
You can’t talk without drama.
Every conversation turns into a sob-fest, a scream, or silence.
She doesn’t express her feelings—she weaponizes them.
She doesn’t communicate—she performs.
And when emotions become threats?
You’re not in a relationship.
You’re in emotional hostage negotiation.
She Breaks More Than Plates—She Breaks Progress
One “no” and she’s smashing things.
One disagreement and she’s packing bags.
One unmet demand—and she’s burning the peace.
This isn’t passion.
This is poison.
A woman who throws tantrums to get her way doesn’t just break gifts.
She breaks men.
She breaks marriages.
She breaks homes.
“The wise woman builds her house, but with her own hands the foolish one tears hers down.” — Proverbs 14:1
Meditate on this before you choose her.
Her Husband Walks on Eggshells—In His Own Castle
He doesn’t breathe deeply.
He doesn’t sleep soundly.
He doesn’t speak freely.
Because every word might light the fuse.
Every move might trigger a meltdown.
Every mistake might become a full-blown earthquake.
That’s not love.
That’s psychological warfare.
And no man can build legacy in a war zone.
She’s Not a Wife—She’s a Full-Time Crisis
She demands a lifestyle you can’t afford—then cries when it’s delayed.
She wants constant attention—but none of the responsibility.
She abandons her duties over mood swings, skips her roles when upset, and ruins your days just to prove a point.
She thinks punishment is power.
She thinks emotion is logic.
But she’s not running a home—she’s running a soap opera.
And you, dear husband?
You’re just another extra in her drama.
Tantrums Aren’t Love Languages—They’re Warning Signs
She’ll call it “just being emotional.”
She’ll say “you don’t understand women.”
She’ll hide behind phrases like “I’m sensitive” or “this is how I cope.”
But the truth is?
She’s not overwhelmed.
She’s undisciplined.
She never learned control—because no one ever called her out.
So now, she ruins grown men with childish storms.
You Can’t Build a Future With a Whirlwind
Today she wants roses. Tomorrow she wants space.
This hour she wants your help. The next, she screams “you’re smothering me.”
She’s a tornado in a dress.
No consistency. No calm. No clarity.
Just chaos with lashes and lipstick.
You’ll spend your years fixing what she broke—while she blames you for not being “understanding enough.”
Final Word:
Marriage is not for the immature, tantrum-throwing, emotionally volatile woman.
It’s not for the girl who never healed.
It’s not for the woman who thinks feelings are facts.
It’s not for the emotional arsonist who sets fire to peace—and calls it passion.
If you need to tiptoe in your own home, that’s not marriage—it’s survival.
And if every day feels like a crisis?
You didn’t marry a partner.
You adopted a problem.
So choose peace.
Choose purpose.
Choose a woman who’s healed enough to build with you.
Because marriage is not therapy.
And you’re not her father.
The poem presents stark truths, uncomfortable but necessary reminders that some women, including myself at times, carry emotional volatility that does not serve growth, peace, or partnership. The verses touch on the dangers of emotional manipulation, the impact of tantrums, and the silent wars fought in homes where communication breaks down. I read it with a mix of discomfort and recognition.
This isn’t about glorifying our partners or submitting blindly. This is about holding a mirror to ourselves. It’s about recognizing our emotional patterns and acknowledging when we are not operating from a place of maturity, healing, or love.
The truth is, I don’t want to be a burden to the people I love. I don’t want to live a life shaped by distorted idealism or emotionally reactive behavior. I want my growth to inspire peace, not provoke conflict. I wish to offer clarity, not confusion. And if I ever hope to embody the elegance and inner stability of the women I once admired from the sidelines, I must continue doing the work.
Let our personal development not be a burden to our relationships, but a light that shines through them. Let it guide our partners, not exhaust them. Healing is not a linear process, and growth is not always graceful, but both are achievable. And in the process, we just might become our version of a “woman of the world.”
Featured image © Eldar Einarson
