MY LOVE LIFE

MY NAME IS DELIGHT

My name is Delight.

And for as long as I can remember, I’ve been called many things: “the quiet one,” “the pretty one,” “the one with the soft voice.” But deep inside, I’ve always just been a girl trying to figure out what it means to feel loved without breaking herself in the process.

I was born into a home that felt like a castle and a prison at the same time. My parents were strict loving, yes, but tightly wound with rules and expectations. Being the only daughter, and the last born, I was both treasured and controlled.

I had two older brothers, David and Daniel, twins. Loud, protective, and annoyingly obsessed with “saving me” from every boy who dared to breathe in my direction. They monitored my every move like I was a diamond the world was trying to steal.

My dad had a favorite line: “A girl must be kept like gold.” He said it with pride, but it came with a long list of don’ts.

Don’t talk to boys.

Don’t stay outside too long.

Don’t wear anything “too noticeable.”

Don’t even think about love.

Love, in my house, was a f*******n subject especially for me.

But how do you tell your heart not to beat fast when someone says your name gently? How do you silence the butterflies when someone smiles at you like you matter?

I first discovered the sweetness and danger of love in junior secondary school. That was when I started noticing the way boys stared at me longer than normal. At first, I was confused. Then I began to understand: my face, my soft voice, the way I walked… it made people notice me, even when I didn’t want them to.

Girls whispered around me. Some wanted to be my friend. Others assumed I was proud. I wasn’t. I was just scared, scared of getting in trouble, scared of breaking rules, scared of my own emotions.

But everything truly changed in SS1.

His name was Michael.

He was quiet, respectful, and always had this calm energy about him. Unlike the others, he didn’t whistle or shout when I walked by. He didn’t force conversations or try to show off. He simply… noticed me.

One afternoon, he passed me a folded note during Literature class. My heart raced as I opened it.

"Hi Delight. You probably don’t know me, but I think you’re amazing. If you don’t mind, I’d like to be your friend."

Friend. That word was safe. I smiled.

And just like that, a door opened.

We started exchanging notes daily, silly questions, class jokes, little compliments that made me blush. Slowly, those notes turned into conversations, and conversations into something deeper.

Michael made me feel seen. Not just as the “pretty girl” or “the quiet one,” but as someone with thoughts, fears, and dreams.

We never dated officially. We didn’t even call it love. But I would wait for him after class, look for him during break, and smile at my phone like a fool after every late-night text.

Of course, I kept it all hidden from my family. Especially David and Daniel.

But secrets, no matter how sweet, never stay secret for long.

And that’s when the real story began.