Reflections with Pain — Time

Journal, Personal

A few months ago, I wrote about time healing all wounds. I kind of regurgitated the concept without considerably breaking it down as one does — or as I do.

I thought about what it was about time for me, that “healed” because I couldn’t bear the thought of just waiting out the metaphorical blood of agonizing flashbacks and little promises. Then a few weeks passed and details of my pain started to fade a little — I slept a little better, and began to dismiss some of those markers or triggers that would all of a sudden have me in tears as if I was back there again, experiencing it all over again.

After a few more nights, the intense emotions attached to the memories also began to fade and it hit me — time didn’t heal anything, I was just starting to forget how painful everything was. And as the details faded out of my memories, my body and conscious were finally finding ease. I was “healing” — but I was just actually forgetting.

You know, I don’t recall ever learning about the concept of forgetfulness with any positive connotation, but after that little reflection I must say — to forget is to be happy, or happier I think. Because you enter this “new day new life” phenomenon and start to feel like the sun’s going to shine tomorrow and all of those witty lyrics of encouragement. They’re only real because the pain dissipates in intensity from our memories, not because pain ever goes away.

I don’t know, maybe a few months down the line I won’t have this opinion about time and healing. Maybe there is something about experiencing hardship that rips up the tissue of life stability only to rebuild them into stronger and more guided muscles.


How have you been with pain these days?

Self-Pity and Healing


It isn’t a secret that time heals our emotional wounds. It isn’t a discovery or jaw opening concept at all. But as you are experiencing the pain, very fleeting knowledge of that concept ever surpasses my consciousness. It’s like I can’t or won’t believe anything for the time being, until I’ve used up all the self-pity I can get for myself.

Why must I think of all the hurt again? Replay it as if I am living in it again. And whilst in it, I did not think or behave or even feel that much pain — it is only after safety that my mind swirls back to depths I don’t want to remember. I’m okay now, shouldn’t that be enough?

Is self pity a part of healing? Or does it elongate the process?

Scared of Romance

Journal, Personal

I’ve been on an impromptu research quest the past week trying to break down successes or failures of romantic relationships. I discovered a lot of dynamic and not exactly relative to any age groups. Some things work together and some don’t. But when it comes to my story, I’m just not sure if being sucked into the idea of a love story blinded me, or if me throwing away my self worth let me tolerate things I didn’t have to.

I found a lot of couples bonding over certain things, fighting, loving and attaching. Others couldn’t handle other things, just drifted apart without sound. It got me thinking about how a conclusion should be extracted, or whether there should be one at all.

I know this is a lot of thought but I’m just throwing down things probably not in order. I got married six months ago. I’m also getting divorced. I am thinking a lot.

Yesterday I was having a conversation with a friend, whom I didn’t know was going to be so incredibly understanding of my divorce, and she was discussing her last relationship with me. She told me it’s okay to discover someone who was so good to not be so good. He had cheated on her then confronted her about it. It was strange for me to swirl around that concept. But they trusted and loved each other with their lives! Then this awfulness, this unfaithfulness, this hurt — when I told her my relationship was toxic I expected her to talk about my “choice” of spouse but she just nodded her head, “yeah, I get it.”

I have to be honest that freaked me out. Not that bad people exist or that we experienced bad relationships but that it can spring up on you like that.

I’d like to think I was raised in a community of bubbled sheltered Fantasia, where everything and everyone was good all the time. It sucks I didn’t get to conceptualize badness at a young age because as a young adult now, “bad” hits me like a storm.

I keep thinking to myself — I don’t really want to be in a romantic relationship again. And I realize it’s probably in consequence of the shock and will lessen in intensity with time but the thought feels so uncertain now. Like, how do you “know” anymore if this guy will be good? Just plain “good”. When my husband was my fiancé he was fantastic. Humble, kind, active and even charming — then really strange portions of him manifested into what my child inside sees as a scary little monster under the bed. How do you get over something like that?

And don’t get me wrong, I’m a dreamy girl, with romance floating around in my head since I was 8 — it’s the first time I’ve ever felt alright with never being in a romantic relationship again. And I’m not sentencing myself, only simply expressing some feelings post a break up in process. I don’t know if people usually have it together but too many things feel confusing at this point.

I suppose that makes me scared of relationships — afraid to ever allow someone to be with me again like that.

What’s after that?

About A Year Ago


It’s been about a year since my first post on this blog. It’s gone through renovations, breaks and confusing days. Perhaps I’ve lost a lot of what I wanted this platform to be for me on the way — all through my phases of creating and deleting websites in an effort to prove to myself that I was wiser and more independent. But the truth is, I was never dependent on a creative outlet to feel better — just engaging in that catharsis was in fact something that helped make me feel better.

A lot has happened this year. Just as a lot would always happen in the previous years. But with love, loss and grief, it is not so much the events I care to share or even remember. It is the parable that lied within every event that I hope to retain, not just for my future, but to be able to be grateful.

Grateful today — for everything.

So, I wonder if I live on a few years from today, will I look back and find solace? Will I choose to forget all the good and pain? Will I dive into more knots and dismiss what could have saved me?

About a year ago, I planned certain plans and wanted certain wants. If someone had told me I wouldn’t be wanting half of them a year from that day I wouldn’t have believed it. I wanted to get married so badly and start a family. Today I want to get divorced so badly and run away.

Who knows what I’ll want tomorrow, right? I just pray it all counts for something — even if I can’t see or feel that now.


I thought this featured photo could symbolize the quite cold abyss of dramatic life choices and events. It’s also a paradoxically relaxing photograph for me to look at. Solve that poetic mystery.


Journal, Personal

On understanding and recognizing the importance of validation!

As my emotions and sufferings are validated there is a lifting by the Mercy of Allah of sadness and anger,

I am happier,

more in control.

What a blessing to validate and tell you your pain is real.

Sit with the pain, love your anxiety Fatimah, you are who you are and that’s as beautiful as you’ll get.

But your heart can lift you to the heavens to be the most beautiful so fly with your worship up high!

Learning about Love

Journal, Personal

On the subject of self compassion yesterday was the biggest emotional turning point in my life.

That’s all I have written for that note. I think I remember accepting and loving a huge portion of my faults I never thought I needed to love to be able to grow. That’s it’s okay to not succeed in this or that, that I can still be worthy if I’m not loved by him or her. I still hold value and uniqueness. Love thy self to make thy self important.

It was a reflection I raised many eyebrows with. I would see those who didn’t work nearly as hard as I did to climb up a constructed social ladder and didn’t have nearly as many skills or potential talents or beauty spots…but they were mysterious, accepted, desired and even chased after. The answer was in them. It is they who hold themselves at a certain esteem that define their worth to the world…the world in turn must accept their value, for no other definition is provided except for that confident one.

I am worth people’s time, energy and love.

Featured photo is my own photography

Notes #1

Journal, Personal

These are collections of reflective thoughts I’ve been gathering the past few months. They aren’t posted in any significant order, they are only things I know I don’t want to forget. Remember with me.


Feeling a novel sense of gratitude for just being. Perhaps being in the moment. Thinking of how I got to this moment, then knowing I’m here today. I could have been somewhere else but today I’m here. I could have not arrived to this place at this time safely the way I did, but because of Allah’s blessings and protection I’m here. And I feel safe, calm, comfortable and ready to worship. I feel liberated, soothed and ready to worship. I feel grateful, blessed and ready to worship. I’m grateful for today and for every day passed. For the first time I don’t think I would change any of it. I’ve never felt that before. For the first time I don’t need closure or a processing or an analyzing; I am just here.

It’s nice to be here.



featured photo is my own photography©

My Cups of Tea


I didn’t realize how much I missed blogging until I opened up one of my old pages and was splashed with something that felt almost the way petrichor feels… humming quite and damp feet, not a winter nor a summer’s evening — but the start to a night just right.

I used to do it and look at the stats and reads and the views. But I’m back today for me, I think. I want to share my reflections, drink my tea (and nascent admiration of coffee), and listen to what you have to say, if you have anything to say… if you want anything to have to say.

This is a short post, and it’s the first one. The featured photo isn’t mine but they’ll start being mine in future posts, God Willing. I’ve recognized a maturation (not in my writing) in my thinking disease. I think I’ll do it better this time around.

I don’t think I will be categorizing any upcoming posts as of now, but I see myself branching out into other subjects. A little less personal, a little more universal.

But for now here are some muffins and a cup of very delicious-looking coffee. I like a start with a vintage feel.