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More Than Just a Name: Untangling ‘My Neha’ and the Romantic Storylines We Write for Ourselves

If you’ve been following my blog, you know I’m usually careful with names. But today, I want to talk about the elephant in the room (or rather, the beautiful, complicated woman in every other thought). This post is about “My Neha”—not just the real person, but the version of her that exists in my head, and the romantic storylines I’ve built around us for years.

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I still call her “My Neha” sometimes. But the definition has changed. She’s not my future girlfriend. She’s not my “one that got away.” She’s the friend who teaches me that real intimacy isn’t about fantasy—it’s about showing up for the messy, unscripted, unpredictable reality.

I remember Neha walking in 10 minutes late, no apology, holding a chai that was definitely going to spill. It did. Not on me—on her notes. Instead of getting flustered, she just laughed, looked at me, and said, “Well, those regression analyses were dead to me anyway.” More Than Just a Name: Untangling ‘My Neha’

We all have that one person in our story who doesn’t just walk through a scene—they rewrite the entire script. For me, that person has always been Neha.

[End of blog post]

She smiled. That real, crinkly-eyed smile. And then she said, “I’d love that. As friends, right? I’m kind of seeing someone.”