For ages, I felt—"Who would be interested in my tale?" I was merely a Lucknow woman baking from home, dealing with orders, family, and self-doubts. It didn't seem like something special.

But whenever I gave a little bit of my story—the mess of late-night baking, the way my family cheered me on, or the satisfaction I felt when a customer smiled—something clicked. People connected. They recognized themselves in my struggles and cheered for my small victories as their own.

I recall a customer one day messaging me about a chocolate cake that I had baked for her son's birthday. She said it wasn't only good, but reading the caption I posted on my first attempt cake made her laugh and reminded her to continue trying on her own little endeavors. That message lingered. It told me that sharing my experience—even the tiny, messy moments—could truly impact someone else's life.

Stories aren't about being grand or flawless. They're about being honest. And when you open yourself up, you remind people that they're not alone in their struggles or aspirations.

So yes, your story counts. Mine does. Yours does. Sometimes, the most basic story—the one that's authentic, imperfect, and genuine—is just what someone else needs to hear.