Belva Mälik

I recently bought a glass pot on Amazon, one of those sleek, transparent ones that lets you see everything bubbling and brewing inside. Today, I decided to use it for the first time. As someone who loves coffee, I will admit it has been a bittersweet journey transitioning away from it. Acid reflux has a way of nudging you toward better choices, and for me, that meant saying goodbye to caffeine. But in giving up coffee, I found something else. Tea. Not just any tea, but an entire world of endless possibilities and creative decaffeinated concoctions.

What I love most about tea is its versatility. You can make it as simple or as intricate as you want, tailoring it to your mood or the moment. Since embracing tea as my daily ritual, I have created more recipes than I can count. Yesterday, I kept it simple with green tea and a few drops of vanilla flavoring, a subtle, soothing blend that felt like a gentle hug in a cup. But today, I decided to go all out. I reached for a hibiscus tea bag, threw in a handful of cloves, a few cardamom pods, and a stick of cinnamon. As the ingredients swirled and simmered in my new glass pot, the vibrant colors and rich aroma filled the kitchen with a warmth that felt inviting and comforting.

Watching the tea come to life, a thought crossed my mind. Just like tea, your life is not meant to please everyone, and that is okay.

This reflection brewed as slowly as the tea in my pot. Just like the spices I carefully selected to create the perfect balance of flavors, each of us is a unique blend of traits, experiences, and quirks. Not everyone will savor what we bring to the table, and that is not a reflection of our worth. It is simply a matter of taste. Some people will prefer coffee, bold, assertive, and straightforward. Others may not crave anything at all. But none of that changes the essence of who we are. Just like my tea, simmering and unfolding with its unique character, I remain myself whether or not someone appreciates the flavor I offer.

It is a lesson I have had to learn over time, one that came with a mix of bitter moments and sweet revelations. Growing up, I often felt the pressure to fit into molds that were not mine, to be liked and accepted by everyone. But trying to be everyone’s cup of tea is exhausting. It is like diluting the rich, vibrant notes of hibiscus just to make it taste like something it is not. In the process, you lose the very thing that makes you unique.

As I poured the tea into my favorite mug, its ruby red hue shimmering in the light, I realized how far I have come in embracing this truth. Not everyone will understand your flavor, and that is perfectly fine. What matters most is that you honor your recipe and stay true to the blend that makes you you. Whether it is the warmth of cinnamon, the spice of cardamom, or the tang of hibiscus, your essence will find its way to those who truly appreciate it.

Sipping my tea, I could not help but smile. This glass pot, my new tea ritual, and the journey I have taken to find comfort in my own blend all feel symbolic. Life is like a pot of tea, rich, layered, and deeply personal. Some will love it, others will not, but your value does not change based on their preferences. It remains steady and intact, just as it always has.

So here is to brewing a life that feels authentic. Here is to savoring your own flavor, even when it is not everyone’s favorite. Because at the end of the day, your worth is not determined by who drinks the tea. It is found in the joy of creating it.

– Aisha Belva Mälik