Nidhi Pitkar · Writing
Nidhi writes about grief, adolescence, consent, and the invisible weight of difficult relationships. Her work has appeared in eShe, SafeSpace.sg, and other publications. She writes the same way she works in the therapy room — directly, without softening the parts that matter.
Nidhi writes personally about losing her father during the COVID lockdown — discovered unresponsive on a video call, unable to reach him, the rituals of mourning made impossible. A clinical account of Prolonged Grief Disorder written from the inside.
“Grief resembles an infected wound — it prevents normal healing. Recovery meant accepting it would not move in a straight line.”
Smartphones compress attention spans. Academic pressure is higher than ever. And when a teenager fails, well-meaning adults rush to reassure rather than reflect. Nidhi writes about why validation comes first — and why hollow comfort teaches young people to avoid difficulty rather than move through it.
“Resist the urge to say 'it will be better next time.' Instead, ask what they think went wrong. That question teaches more than any reassurance.”
When we snatch things away or override a child's no, we teach them what power looks like — and they use that model later, in friendships, in relationships, at work. Nidhi draws on Seligman's PERMA framework to argue that real autonomy is something children need to practise, not just be told they have.
“Actively negotiating with a child teaches the skill of reaching collective agreements — rather than passive-aggressive compliance.”
Consent doesn't end when a relationship becomes serious. Nidhi examines the grey areas — coercion through ultimatum, shame disguised as persuasion — arguing that the ability to say no without consequences is the foundation of any real intimacy.
“Consent is a living, breathing, evolving phenomenon in a relationship — not a one-time checkbox.”
A Punjabi Hindu married to a Maharashtrian Christian. A brother-in-law who married a Muslim woman. No common language, religion, or food — and yet a family that works. Nidhi uses her own extended family as a case study for what actually holds people together.
“The very fact that we don't have anything in common but still manage to stay in one house and cherish each other — that is what makes us Indian.”
A personal essay about grief and the paradox of longing for a difficult relationship. Nidhi reflects on the unresolved tensions between her and her mother — a traditional Punjabi woman who expected something different — and what loss finally revealed about how much she needed that friction.
“Parents don't prepare their children for their passing. And perhaps we don't let ourselves be prepared either.”
Work with Nidhi
If something in her writing resonated, the first 30 minutes with Nidhi is always free — no forms, no intake paperwork.