“I Don’t Need Anybody, I Have Family!”

Children and teens, like adults, can benefit from counseling. Therapists help kids and families cope with stress and a variety of emotional and behavioral issues. Counseling children involves helping them develop a positive attitude toward life, recognize their strengths, and express themselves. It does not involve making decisions for the child, imposing beliefs, or preaching to them.

It’s 6 a.m., and I don’t want to wake up. Still, I leap out of bed, as though my body can trick my mind into believing I want to face the day. Rubbing my sleepy eyes, I mechanically pack my bag. My chemistry book goes in, and my library book comes out. Today is a long day—Tuesdays have no free hours. I don’t mind the length of the day; it’s just that I can’t take their taunting anymore.

They snigger at me, and it hurts to know people don’t look beyond outward appearances. I have to walk that path to reach school. They know very well that I hear them insulting me, and yet I have to walk that distance pretending I don’t hear a thing.

I have learned to watch out for myself. No, I won’t allow people to get close. They can all stay in their little cliques and entertain each other. I don’t need friends; I have family! And yet, I can’t deny how much it hurts to be alone at school. All I can think about is what they are thinking about me. I wish they would stop laughing behind my back. I wish…I wish I could be one of them. But I don’t stand a chance.

That day at school, a counsellor came in and gave us a brief talk. Counselling? That’s the last thing I need. Another reason for them to laugh at me—a clear sign that I’m helpless. It would break the image I had so carefully built up. I, Timothy Kumar, am smart, and I don’t need a band of followers to make me feel better. “I don’t need anybody, I have family!” — my mantra, my shield.

And yet…the idea appealed to me. Someone I could talk to. Someone who would keep what I said confidential. Anne said that listening was her job. She was trained to listen, and together we could find ways to understand life better and live it well. But what if she thinks I’m making it all up? And if I tell her I spend all my time worrying about what others think, she will think I’m crazy. No. I don’t need anybody, I have family!

But this week, I made up my mind. I saw how Vidya, the topper of our class, bravely went to the counsellor. If she could go, maybe I could too.

I entered Anne’s office, my heart pounding. What would I say? Where would I begin? But as we started talking, she made things so simple. She explained clearly that she wasn’t there to judge or advise, but to help.

“I don’t know what to say,” I mumbled.

“Just start with what brought you here, Timothy. There is no fixed pattern or right way,” she said gently.

And so, in bits and pieces, I poured out my story. The need to maintain a façade of being normal. The fear that everyone would discover the truth—that my father was an alcoholic who couldn’t hold a job. It wasn’t like Dad hadn’t tried to give up drinking, but he was helpless.

It felt like it was on my shoulders to protect our family’s reputation. Mum made sure we dressed neatly, uniforms always pressed, faces never revealing the struggle within. “I don’t need anybody, I have family!”

The counsellor’s words reflected my own—they felt like a mirror. It dawned on me that in trying so hard to appear normal, I had actually made myself stand out. I kept my shirt spotless and my shoes shining like mirrors. My face showed no emotion. I was a picture of perfection…and loneliness.

“Timothy,” Anne said, “you have been carrying a lot of responsibility. You’ve tried your best to protect your family’s reputation. Beneath everything, you recognize your dad’s helplessness and how hard your mum works to help you and your sister face the world.”

I nodded, choking back tears. It had been such a burden. Too heavy. Images of Dad, Mum, and Reena—my little sister—filled my mind. They were my family. Not perfect, but mine.

“Tim,” she continued softly, “letting others see the real you does not mean you hate your family. As a teenager, it’s normal to want friends. Your need to relate to others makes you human.”

I smiled through tears. I had spent so long holding myself together that I had forgotten who I really was. No wonder those classmates had so much to say about me.

My session with Anne ended with my heart lighter than it had been in years. Hope flickered within me—hope that I could finally embrace life more freely.

Anne handed me a small assignment on a sheet of paper. Two tasks:

1. Tell my parents how much they meant to me.

2. Reach out to someone in my class this week—as myself.

    

As I stepped out, I bumped into Vidya.

“Timmy!” she exclaimed, surprised. “You seem…really happy!”

“Yes, Vidya, I am! I really am!” I called out, grinning as I ran up the stairs to class.