Adulting 101: Building and Maintaining Healthy Relationships

Relationships matter. People say this all the time, but it’s easy to miss what it actually means. Your relationships, be they friends, family, colleagues, or romantic partners, are the background noise to your adult life. They affect your mental health, stability, and your ability to get through rough patches. No one gets through life alone, but plenty end up feeling alone. Why? Sometimes, people don’t learn how to build or keep healthy relationships. This isn’t taught in most classes. If you’re a university student or just starting work, understanding this can help you navigate adulthood. Let’s go deep and keep it real.

Knowing yourself first
People often talk about communication skills and boundaries but rarely start with the most basic truth: you need to know yourself. If you aren’t clear about your own values, likes, dislikes, and limits, you can’t expect others to treat you right. If you’re not sure what you want out of a friendship, a relationship, or any connection, it’s easy to end up in situations where you feel lost or taken advantage of.

Getting to know yourself means figuring out your emotional triggers, your needs, and even your flaws. Sit with the discomfort of not liking every part of yourself. You don’t have to be perfect, but you do have to be honest. The more you’re able to express who you are, the less likely fake connections will happen. It’s tempting to fit in by acting differently, especially when starting out. And sure, everyone adapts, but losing yourself in any relationship leads to resentment. It’s not your job to blend in. Be yourself in every relationship, even when it’s hard.

Relationships are built, not found
Don’t fall for the myth that healthy relationships just happen. They are built. That means work. No partnership, friendship, or family connection survives long-term on autopilot. You need to show up. That can mean checking in with a friend, showing respect to your partner, or setting aside time to talk with family. Putting in the work isn’t glamorous. Sometimes it means apologising when you’re wrong and not making excuses. It means making small choices daily to show you care. Take time together seriously, whether that means having a meal with family, sending a message to a friend, or asking your roommate how their day went. People appreciate effort, even if they don’t always say so. Make showing up a habit. If you don’t, even good relationships fade.

Boundaries: The lines that matter
Healthy relationships stand on boundaries. If you can’t set limits, relationships can drain you. Boundaries help everyone understand what is and isn’t okay. But boundaries aren’t just walls; they’re rules about what you’ll accept and what others can expect from you. If you say yes to everything because you’re afraid of disappointing people, your relationships won’t last. Setting boundaries means being clear. You might say, “I need alone time on weekends,” or, “I don’t feel comfortable talking about politics at dinner.” These aren’t selfish; they’re honest. Setting boundaries isn’t about controlling others. You don’t get to dictate how someone acts; you can only control your responses. If someone pushes against your boundaries, take note. And don’t ignore the digital side. Tell friends you unplug after work hours. It’s fine to limit messaging or step away from social media.

Communication: Not just words, but actions
The most basic advice is “talk it out.” That’s not wrong, but it’s incomplete. Communication breaks down when people only listen to respond, not to understand. If you really want to build solid relationships, listen more than you speak. Try to understand where someone is coming from, even if you disagree. And don’t play games with how you communicate. If you’re upset, say so. If something feels off, talk about it. “When you say xxx, it makes me feel yyy.” Simple sentence starters open up hard conversations. People aren’t mind readers, and most bad relationships crash because people hide their feelings until things explode. Non-verbal cues matter too. Notice when someone is withdrawn or seems tense. Don’t wait for conflict to get big. Address issues early and calmly.

Honesty matters more than comfort
Many shy away from speaking the truth in relationships. People think white lies keep things smooth, but dishonesty is toxic. Small lies grow into resentment. If you aren’t honest, trust dies. Trust is the core of any relationship. If you say you’ll do something, do it. If you mess up, admit it. Don’t cover up parts of yourself to fit in or avoid conflict. The best relationships allow you to show up as you are, even when you’re not at your best. If you’re in a relationship of any kind where you constantly hide, rethink it.

Navigating conflict without drama
Conflict is inevitable. The goal isn’t to avoid conflict, but to handle it without drama. Start by warning the other person: “I’d like to talk about something tough.” This helps them prepare. When arguments get heated, pause and revisit later. Walking away is not the same as giving up; it’s often the mature choice. Compromise is not surrender. Sometimes, finding a solution means both sides give a little. Respect differences; you can’t always agree. In families, you see this all the time: argue, cool off, then come together for dinner. Keep it simple: debate without destroying each other.

Affection and appreciation: Don’t take people for granted
Relationships can get routine. People forget to show appreciation. It’s common for couples, friends, and families to get stuck in habits. This is when relationships start to feel empty. Combat this by showing affection and gratitude: hugs, high fives, and saying “thanks” or “I appreciate you” matter. Schedule time together where you’re not multitasking. Turn off phones during meals or catch-ups. Find shared interests: a sport, hobby, or show you can enjoy together. Even ten minutes of honest conversation changes the mood.

Make relationships a priority, but not an obsession
It’s easy to let work, study, and stress take over your life. Relationships need time, but don’t turn them into your whole world. Set limits at work or in school when you can. Learn to say no to things that rob you of energy for your people. Balance means scheduling time for friends, family, partners, and yourself. You can care about people, but don’t feel guilty for having interests or needing space.

Self-esteem and social confidence
A lot of young adults struggle with low self-confidence when forming new relationships. If you’re shy, you’re not alone. Social skills can always be improved, but you need to practice. You don’t have to match the most outgoing crowd on campus. Find people who vibe with where you’re at right now. If confidence is tough, get help. There’s no shame in counselling; most schools offer free sessions. Learning how to have uncomfortable conversations or handle social situations is a skill. The earlier you start, the more natural it becomes.

Dealing with anxiety, awkwardness, and failure
Not every relationship will succeed. Some will fade, some will end badly. You might feel awkward or anxious, especially when starting university or work. Don’t pretend everything’s fine if it’s not. Accept that relationships come and go. What matters is not being stuck in regret, but learning from it. Failure in relationships is normal. The key is not to avoid risk but to build resilience. Each time something goes wrong, ask yourself what you could do differently, then move on. You’re allowed to outgrow people. And yes, you’re allowed to walk away from relationships that hurt or make you small.

Family isn’t always easy, but it’s worth the effort
Family relationships are complicated. If your family is loving, keep showing up for them: meals, outings, or just hanging out. If family is rough or distant, decide how much time and energy you want to invest. You’re not forced to tolerate disrespect or neglect, but cutting off family is a big decision. Try for small acts of connection first: texts, calls, and shared activities. The ordinary things, like meals without screens, walks, and hobbies, build positive connections. Don’t force deep talks if it’s awkward. Trust grows from shared time, not just big gestures.

Letting go of control
Here’s a hard truth: You can’t control people. You can only control how you act and react. Don’t try to change others. Don’t chase people who drift away. Save your energy for people committed to showing up in your life. If you find yourself obsessing over why someone doesn’t call back, step back. Focus on your own growth. People change and drift, and so do relationships.

Recognising red flags and walking away
Sometimes, you need to end relationships, even ones you care about. Red flags include lack of respect, constant criticism, dishonesty, or feeling unsafe. Don’t stick around hoping things will magically get better. If someone is toxic, manipulative, or only connects when things go well, you need to rethink your place in their life. Listen to your own instincts. Healthy relationships make you feel safe and respected, even when things are tense. If you’re always anxious or walking on eggshells, it’s time to consider leaving.

What adulting really means in relationships
Growing up means realising relationships take work, honesty, and flexibility. It means moving past drama and embracing awkwardness. The truth is, anyone can learn to build and keep healthy relationships; it’s a skill, not a matter of the draw. Stay true to yourself, set boundaries, communicate openly, and don’t sweep issues under the rug. Accept failure, give second chances, but don’t let others mistreat you. Relationships are always changing; the goal is to keep adjusting with truth and respect at the centre.

In My Hands Today…

Hello World: Being Human in the Age of Algorithms – Hannah Fry

When it comes to artificial intelligence, we either hear of a paradise on earth or of our imminent extinction.

It’s time we stand face-to-digital-face with the true powers and limitations of the algorithms that already automate important decisions in healthcare, transportation, crime, and commerce.

Hello World is indispensable preparation for the moral quandaries of a world run by code, and with the unfailingly entertaining Hannah Fry as our guide, we’ll be discussing these issues long after the last page is turned.

Short Story: The Summer Holidays

In the late eighties and early nineties, summer did not arrive alone in Tirunelveli.

It arrived with families.

It came with rope-tied suitcases, steel trunks dented by railway platforms, and parents who crossed the threshold and quietly became younger versions of themselves. It came with children who had grown taller since last year and adults who pretended not to notice.

The house on North Car Street sensed it first. The neem tree stood still. The red oxide floor was scrubbed until it caught the light. The kitchen smelled of coffee and spice long before anyone arrived.

Paati had been ready for days.

The first family came from Chennai.

The elder son stepped out of the hired Ambassador, already loosening his collar, the long drive still clinging to his shoulders. His wife followed, adjusting her pallu without thinking, her eyes moving carefully over the house she knew well but never loosely.

Their son, Arjun, fifteen and all angles, jumped out last.

“Too much heat,” he said.

“It was hotter in our time,” his father replied, already sounding less like a man from Chennai and more like a son from this street.

Inside, Paati did not look up from the garlic she was peeling.

“You’ve come,” she said.

The daughter-in-law bent to touch her feet. The gesture was practised, precise. Paati’s hand rested briefly on her head, then withdrew.

“Wash your hands,” Paati said. “Help.”

The knife was placed in her palm before she could respond.

She moved into the kitchen, uncertain whether she had been welcomed or assigned, and began chopping as if the motion itself might clarify the difference.

Much later, when Meera arrived from Delhi and learned to read the house properly, she would remember this moment without having seen it. She would notice how her aunt’s shoulders always relaxed once she had work to do, as if usefulness was the only language that made the house fully intelligible.

The rest arrived in waves.

Delhi brought noise and opinions. Mumbai brought stories and twins who ran everywhere. The last daughter arrived from a town whose name changed often, her husband shaped by transfer orders, their children hovering uncertainly.

Paati gathered them all in with the same sentence.

“This is your house.”

The daughter-in-law from Chennai heard it from the kitchen. She paused, knife hovering, unsure whether the words reached her too.

Mornings settled into rhythm.

The kitchen filled with women. Daughters moved freely, laughing, arguing, interrupting. Daughters-in-law worked more quietly, exchanging glances, correcting themselves before being corrected.

Paati supervised without hovering.

The Chennai daughter-in-law watched everything. How rice was rinsed. How sambar was tasted without flinching. How vessels were placed back exactly where they belonged. She mirrored these movements without realizing it.

Meera noticed. She noticed how her aunt never sat unless told. How her voice softened automatically around elders. How she laughed most easily with the children, as if they required no performance.

The men occupied the verandah. In their parents’ house, their authority thinned. Thaatha read the newspaper with ritual precision.

“Don’t bring work home,” he told his elder son one evening.

The son nodded, chastened.

The daughter-in-law poured coffee, placed the tumbler beside her husband, stepped back.

The days unfolded.

Cricket matches with arguments. Mango raids. Afternoon naps enforced by Paati’s stare.

Evenings softened the town. Walks with Thaatha. Ice melting down wrists. One television, one antenna, one version of the world.

During power cuts, everyone moved to the terrace.

Adults talked in small circles. Children lie on mats. Stories surfaced carefully. About ageing parents. About distance. About how cities swallowed time.

At some point, the Chennai daughter-in-law spoke.

Just once.

“It’s hard,” she said, not looking at anyone, “when children grow up where neighbours don’t know their names.”

There was a pause.

Then Paati said, “That is why they must come here.”

The sentence was not directed at her. But it stayed with her.

The defining moment came three days later.

It was mid-afternoon. The heat had settled heavily. Most people were resting.

In the kitchen, Paati was alone, sorting lentils slowly, methodically.

The Chennai daughter-in-law entered, unsure why she had come. Perhaps to check something. Perhaps because the house felt too quiet.

Without being asked, she sat on the floor opposite Paati and reached for another bowl.

For a while, they worked in silence.

Then Paati said, without looking up, “You add too much water to the rice.”

The daughter-in-law froze. She waited for instruction, correction, judgment.

Instead, Paati pushed the bowl toward her.

“Tomorrow,” she said, “you make.”

It was not a test. It was not praise.

It was a transfer.

The kitchen, for one meal, was being handed over.

The daughter-in-law felt something tighten in her chest. Not fear. Something closer to responsibility.

“Yes,” she said.

That night, she barely slept.

The next morning, she woke early. She washed the rice the way she had watched Paati do it. She measured water by feel, not cup. She cooked slowly, deliberately.

When she served it, she stood waiting.

Paati took a mouthful. Chewed. Swallowed.

“Correct,” she said.

Nothing more.

Meera saw it all. The waiting. The stillness. The quiet approval.

She understood then that in this house, love did not announce itself. It assigned work.

After that, something shifted.

The daughter-in-law moved differently. Not louder. Not freer. Just steadier.

She corrected Arjun without glancing at her husband. She laughed once, openly, when the twins spilt rasam. She sat down without asking.

Paati noticed. Said nothing.

On the final day, when suitcases reappeared and the house began to empty, Paati handed food parcels wrapped in newspaper.

When the daughter-in-law bent to touch her feet, Paati held her hand.

“Don’t forget,” she said, finally looking at her, “this is also your house.”

The words landed fully this time.

Meera watched her aunt blink once. Then nod.

After the others had left, the house exhaled.

Paati sat down heavily. “Too much noise.”

Thaatha folded the newspaper. “They came.”

In the kitchen, the daughter-in-law rinsed the last vessel. She ran her hand once over the counter, switched off the light, and closed the door without hesitation.

Years later, Meera would remember that moment.

Not the cricket. Not the mangoes.

But the day her aunt stopped asking where she belonged.

2026 Week 21 Update

Today’s quote is by American philosopher and psychologist William James, one of the founding thinkers of modern psychology and a leading figure in the philosophical movement known as pragmatism, which focused on the practical consequences of ideas and actions. The quote is a simple but powerful reminder that our actions matter, even when the impact is not immediately visible. Many people underestimate the effect they have on others and on the world around them. We assume that change only comes from grand gestures, major achievements, or people in positions of power. William James challenges that idea directly.

The quote encourages intentional living. The way we speak to someone, the kindness we show, the effort we put into our work, and the choices we make every day, all of these create ripple effects. A small act of encouragement can change someone’s day. A moment of patience can prevent conflict. A decision to keep going despite discouragement can inspire others quietly, without us ever knowing. There’s also a deeper psychological truth here. When people believe their actions matter, they tend to live with greater purpose and responsibility. But when they believe nothing they do makes a difference, they can become passive, detached, or hopeless. James reminds us that meaning is often created through action itself. By showing up fully and acting with intention, we participate in shaping the world around us.

Importantly, the quote does not promise immediate results. Sometimes the impact of what we do may not be visible for years. But that does not make it insignificant. Every action contributes to the atmosphere we create around us — in families, workplaces, friendships, and communities.

Today’s verse from the Bhagavad Gita, verse 18.66, is the culminating instruction of the Gita. Surrender here is not negligence. It is relinquishment of egoic ownership. To take refuge is to recognise limitation without losing dignity. The instruction “do not grieve” is not dismissal. It is a protection offered. Devotion reaches maturity when control is released. Not abandonment of action, but abandonment of self-claim over the result. There is freedom in refuge.

This week was very productive, what with my work and personal work being on fire! The week was like one of those in-between spaces: not dramatic, not particularly loud, but quietly full. The days moved quickly, with small wins and checking off my to-do list, as well as moments of reflection. The world outside continues to move at its relentless pace: politics shifting, conflicts unfolding, technology racing ahead, headlines changing by the hour, and yet everyday life still asks the same simple things of us: to show up, to keep going, to care for the people around us, and to hold on to some sense of meaning amidst the noise. Perhaps that’s what this week really felt like: learning how to stay grounded while everything else keeps moving.

That’s all I have for this week. Stay calm, stay happy, and keep smiling!

In My Hands Today…

The New World: 21st-Century Global Order and India – Ram Madhav

Are there enduring patterns in history that can shed light on today’s shifting power dynamics and the struggle for a new international order? What lessons does the past offer for the present—and the future?

As the old world order fades and a new one slowly emerges, humanity stands at a pivotal crossroads. This period of transition presents a rare opportunity for rising nations like India to play a decisive role in shaping what comes next.

In The New 21st-Century Global Order and India, Ram Madhav offers a sweeping and influential exploration of the rise and fall of great powers and the international orders they create. Tracing the story of the liberal world order established by the West about seventy years ago, he examines the possible form of the emerging new order. He adopts an interdisciplinary approach as he delves into the most urgent concerns facing our global the rise of China and its challenge to the United States, the decline of global multilateralism and the emergence of multipolarity, the transformative impact of artificial intelligence and other frontier technologies, and the challenges posed by demographics and climate change, among others. He also envisions India’s emerging role in the evolving balance of power within the global system.

As always, Madhav presents his ideas with vivid clarity and accessibility, guided by unwavering principle and sharp insight. Free of heavy-handed jargon, he offers a clear perspective on modern civilization and where we are headed.

The New 21st-Century Global Order and India is a comprehensive resource for anyone seeking to understand the more representative global order that is less asymmetric and more diverse.