To Apoorva Mukhija, With Love and Endless Pride

Hey apoorva,

it’s 2am and i don’t know what kind of courage it takes to go through hell and still show up on the internet, but whatever it is, you’ve got it. and not just a little of it, but the loud, honest, shatter-the-room kind. i just finished watching your latest video and honestly, i’m overwhelmed. happy tears, proud heart, all of it.

i don’t know if you’ll ever read this, but i wanted to say it anyway – thank you, Apoorva Mukhija. thank you for not disappearing. thank you Apoorva Mukhija for coming back. thank you for sharing what no one should ever have to go through, let alone out loud.

I’ve been following you for a while now, and seeing your feed go blank… it hit differently. because it wasn’t just a social media moment, it was real. a woman deleting everything, unfollowing everyone, going silent—not for drama, but for survival. and still, people had the audacity to call it an overreaction. but those of us who know how the internet treats women? we knew. we felt it.

Apoorva Mukhija, the internet was never built to protect you. not me. not any of us, really. it was built for speed and numbers and visibility. not for safety. not for boundaries. not for the quiet kind of violence that slides into DMs and replies and threatens to swallow you whole.

but you? you stood up in the middle of that storm. you didn’t just speak, you screamed the truth. and the part that broke me the most was when you posted the screenshot of those threats and said, “this is not even 1%.” that sentence alone carries more weight than most people will ever understand.

the internet can feel like a war zone for women who dare to exist too loudly, too freely, too honestly. and watching you reclaim your space after everything – they’ll call it a comeback, but i know it’s a resistance. Apoorva Mukhija, you didn’t owe us your pain, but you still shared it. and that’s not weakness. that’s power. real, undeniable, breathtaking power.

and listen, i’ve read a lot of strong captions and notes online. but the way you just stood there, soft but unshaken, like “i’m still here” that’s something else. you reminded me that survival doesn’t always look like fighting back. sometimes it’s logging in again. posting again. breathing again. and for that, i’m so proud of you.

i think about how easily people say “just block them” or “don’t let it get to you.” but what they don’t understand is that every time we post, we’re calculating risk. we’re wondering, is this too much? too loud? too real? being a woman online is like walking through a minefield barefoot, hoping today isn’t the day someone decides to blow everything up.

and even with all of that, Apoorva Mukhija, you chose to stay. to speak. to turn pain into purpose. that’s the kind of bravery that lives in your bones. you didn’t just survive you gave the rest of us permission to breathe a little easier. to feel a little less alone. to maybe, one day, speak up too.

so here’s what i want to say, like a late night message from someone who gets it: i’m proud of you. not the “good job!” kind of proud. the crying quietly in bed at 2:17am kind of proud. the “thank god she came back” kind of proud.

thank you, Apoorva Mukhija, for reclaiming your voice, for not letting the darkness swallow it whole. you turned fear into fire and silence into story. and i know that wasn’t easy. i know it still isn’t. but please know that what you’re doing matters.

i want to remember the line that stuck with me most: “it’s surviving in digital spaces that were never built to protect you.” god, that hit hard. because it’s true. and yet you’re still here. still showing up. still choosing to be seen.

i hope you never underestimate the impact of that. i hope you know that your words have already wrapped around so many people like a warm hug. and if no one has told you today—Apoorva Mukhija, you are changing something. even if it’s just one person at a time. even if it’s just me, crying at 2am, writing you this.

i don’t care if this blog never goes viral. this isn’t for clicks. this is for you.

thank you for not letting them break you. thank you Apoorva Mukhija for reminding us we’re allowed to take up space. thank you for being proof that softness is strength.

proud of your heart. proud of your courage. and always, always rooting for you.

with love, someone who needed to hear your voice that day 🤍

So here’s to you, Apoorva Mukhija.

For not just surviving but choosing to come back.
For using your voice, even when it trembled.
For standing tall in a world that tried to shrink you.

You’ve reminded us that healing is not linear, that courage isn’t always loud, and that softness can be the fiercest form of strength.

Your story didn’t just reach us it moved us.
You gave so many of us the permission to speak, to feel, to breathe a little easier.

Thank you for being exactly who you are.
Unfiltered. Unbreakable. Unapologetically real.

We’re listening. We’re learning. We’re proud.
And we’ll be right here, cheering for you – always. 🤍