The Hero of The Story

I've been writing on a diary/journal since I was eight. Now I'm eighteen, and sadly I'm out of touch with my journal and myself. Here, I'll let internal thoughts be external!

[journaldefafa]

Bye bye my Choukie

This year didn’t end the way I imagined, but honestly, it didn’t even begin that way either. I started the year broken, both figuratively and literally, having just recovered from a health scare that affected my spine and left me bed-ridden for the last 3 months of last year. I was stuck in a job that drained the joy out of me, surrounded by an environment that felt hollow and misaligned with who I was becoming. No matter how hard I tried to leave, grow, or make it work, it slowly became clear that this was not where Allah wanted me to stay. So, I decided, let this be the year I finally gave dating a fair chance. I entered a relationship that became a beautiful distraction from a life I had always wanted to escape.

While it was happening, I didn’t realize how much work I was doing on myself. My focus had shifted away from pressuring myself and moved toward the relationship – something that felt safe at first but wasn’t. But without noticing, I grew through it. I became better physically, mentally, emotionally, and even professionally. I found the courage to quit my job with nothing lined up, and less than a month later, I landed another one. I learned how deeply I can love, how much I’m willing to give, and where I need to stop. I learned to trust my instincts – the quiet voice that tells me when something isn’t right. I learned that I’m beautiful inside and out. I learned that my vulnerability is my greatest strength, and that unhealed hearts sometimes try to belittle what they don’t know how to hold… and I learned not to lose myself in their confusion. I learned that I am brave, and that leading with my heart is not something I need to unlearn.

And above all, I learned that Allah has always been there guiding me gently. I found Him in both light and darkness, even in moments where I felt too ashamed to look up. He met me with acceptance, peace, and love – lifting me every time I thought I couldn’t rise again.

There was a moment when I believed I had lost everything. I feared I would have to start over, that the life I had tried so hard to escape would come rushing back to consume me once again. But when I finally stepped forward, I realized I was standing in a different world. One where I’m at peace, content, and already whole. I have a family I can depend on, friends I can trust, and Allah.

[journaldefafa]

Somehow always back to square one

I wish I came to you baring good news. I wish I came to you with something new even. It can be considered new as an “object” but the subject has been the same for years.

It’s only right to write about Choukry. Technically, he is the most worthy one to be written about compared to the rest. He was the realest, the truest, the closest, and the most painful of them all.

100 days have passed since our last chat. No goodbyes were said for almost a year of being together and knowing each other, and planning a future together. Yes, this one was that close. Families were involved and we were only one week away from our Fat’ha.

Unfortunately, I can’t seem to write the pain I’m going through. This one is truly so hard to explain. And I can tell that because my body is screaming what I am unable to say. The first two months I was coping relatively well - perhaps too well for Fadwa. And then my body started fighting me again. Why do you do that to me Fafa’s body? Why do you come and haunt me in the form of bad health?

I am suffering from Alopecia and my self-esteem has plummeted to a place that is beyond reach. Like always I am genuinely unable to see the light at the end of the tunnel. All I see is black.

Choukry was there last year when I just came out of another health scare. At that time it was my spine. He was a sweet distraction or dream that I thought was possible. 2025 (except December) was a year where I felt the most beautiful, the most feminine, the most confident, and the most capable to live this world and conquer it. And I hate that I needed a man to feel that way. But I did. And I think, I still do. I don’t see myself feeling this way unless it’s with a man. It’s like I’m wired like that.

While I was in it, I tried to snap out of it. It became serious and real too fast that I couldn’t believe it. This train of misfortune has followed me everywhere I go. How come it didn’t catch up to me yet, here (or there)? It eventually did.

I started writing here when I was 18, it’s still in my bio. I’m 28 now. I hate this age so much. I don’t know what to make of it anymore. 2026 was the year I become a bride and a wife and live in my happy home. But it’s so shocking how that is so far away from what’s happening now. We’re in a war right now, but this time it’s a USA-Israh*ll vs Iran and we’re stuck in the middle.

I hope next time I write you I am in a better place, I really do. Please Fafa from the future, tell me it gets better. Thankfully, this has made me go back to Allah stronger and with more steady faith. I don’t ever wanna lose that for anyone. Allah and Islam is my end goal. This is my end. I do everything for Allah and al Jannah. I don’t see anything exciting in this world anymore, everything is finite. Nothing on this earth impresses me nor shocks me anymore. No more Dunya living, I’m here for the Akhira.

I know I wrote something for 30 old Fafa, but I hope I come back sooner than that with good news. Also, I know you are clueless about Choukry, so I will post in my next post something I wrote to him that I was planning on posting so that he would read it but ended up removing him from my socials and never posting what I wrote.

I love you Fafa, even when you think it’s hard to do so. Cause it’s not hard at all. Your pain, your vulnerability, it’s what makes me fall for you even deeper. It’ll be okay.

لا تحزن ان الله معنا

[journaldefafa]

My Room of Many Colors

I think now more than ever in my life; I’m accepting the idea of being alone. I really don’t mean it in a sad way, even though there are tears running down my face as I’m writing this. Wait, let me explain, but in order to do so let me go back a little to the month of May — and what a month it was.

I was planning on writing about this guy who came in and out of my life in a span of a month and a half. Since I always wrote about the guys that passed through my life. I knew this was somewhat an important milestone to jot down. But I couldn’t find the words. Till I realized that I always write when I’m sad and hurt. When I have so much that is unsaid and writing is my only outlet. But with his case, I am not upset, not hurt, not disappointed — I am wholeheartedly grateful.

I left this 1-month relationship knowing full well that it was the right thing to do. If I was desperate enough I would’ve convinced myself to let that relationship happen. I would be doing a lot of compromising and turning a blind eye… “but hey Fafa, someone actually likes you and sees you for who you truly are, who’s putting an effort and wants to see you everyday and showers you with love, compliments, and touches.” But it’s not enough. I realized that I want something much greater than what I have ever imagined. And I understand the heaviness of this all. I know that this is dense and it might scare the next person. That maybe I’m asking for too much. But what I finally figured out is that it’s not impossible because I’m already giving it to myself — apparently!

Marwen has switched on the light to what I thought was a dark and gloomy room inside of Fadwa. Maybe he had magic hands or an anime-like sword that cut through every superficial layer of my being and revealed my inner gem. I really don’t know what happened but once he walked into my figurative room in my head, it was suddenly illuminated! What a wonderful room I have curated all for myself and by myself! There’s beauty everywhere— me everywhere. Colors all around, happiness in every corner, laughter in the room. I was healed, I am healed! I worked on myself and reached to a place of self-love and acceptance. I am proud of who I am. I strive for growing and making sure I’m learning and become a better human. I’m not perfect; never claimed to be. But I have love dripping from my fingers. I am just so pure. I love the world, and the world loves me back. And I know that’s Allah. He always has my back, even when I falter, even when I make a fault, and even when I completely fall. He’s always there — my omnipotent God. I should love my life. I should love myself — Look! Look how I’ve taken care of her! I have designed a being ever so kind, ever so gentle, ever so loving, ever so sweet.

Thank you Marwen, believe it or not, I didn’t know I reached to this level of self-love and self-healing. And though it aches me to admit that this was all realized through our juxtaposition, yet that was the reason you were sent to me from the start I’m afraid. To learn that I am that valuable of a person and that rare. I’m a gem, I’m a treasure, and I understand that not everyone deserves me.

Which leads me to my first point, maybe I won’t find someone who deserves me. And I am little by little accepting that. Of course, I’d like to have The Man in my life, but unfortunately it feels harder and harder everyday finding him. I’m not losing hope, and maybe miracles still happen in this day and age, but I just wanted to write this as a little tap on Fafa’s back and tell her that: “You don’t need anyone to color your room, it’s already a work of art — divinely colored.”

[journaldefafa]

We live and we learn

We always hear the saying "People Change", and it always seemed to me that it is a natural phenomenon - that change is only human. It is part of the human biology, we grow, we learn, and we change. Now of course, the question is change for the better or worse? But it's not as simple. The human change can fall anywhere in the good-and-evil spectrum, some changes can even be neutral, falling right in the middle of the spectrum. Neutral in a way were it's not good, it's not bad, but this change is still foreign and unfamilliar to us.

Unfortunately that's how I am feeling towards my best friend of almost 14 years. I love here deeply and forever. She is my soulmate and my true love. And she knows that, and I try to show her / tell her that every chance I get. But regrettably, she is not the same best friend that I admired and love in the very begining. Of course not! She grew older, matured, changed, had many different life experiences that shaped her into who she is today - and I respect that.

But there is a certain light or spark that she had that I cannot find in her anymore. I feel selfish writing this down. Nonehteless, I realized that I was dependant on that light. Her positive energy was my safe haven. Always running to her to wash my self with some of her light, helping me reduce my anxiety, and clear out my mind.

However nowadays, I feel like she pushes me away, dismisses my feelings, barely gives me her time, and shallowly listens to me. These are things I would never, never do to her. I always go above and beyond to bring back positivity in her life and I try to lighten up her mood, but sadly with no results. She became very dark, pessimistic, and withdrawn. Everytime I open up to her, and talk to her about what's bothering me, I find myself regretting it immediately afterwards. She makes me feel like I overshare things with her, that my problems are miniscule and unimportant.

Here I am, once again, making an oath with myself to stop oversharing things with her and with people in general. Thati f I want to look for answers, I should look from within only. I should know how to comfort myself, no? I know myself very well. I should be able to do that. When I'm feeling overwhelmed like the walls are closing on me and I can't breathe, I should know how to remind myself how to breathe, right? I should know that.

I can be my own best friend. Basma is still my best friend. But I can also be my own.

[journaldefafa]

A Letter to Who Could’ve Been

I don’t want to sound crazy nor seem desperate for reaching out to you after one week of no contact. I know this is already an answer from your behalf. I understand that this is an unspoken answer, albeit a cowardice one. But I want a spoken one. An answer that would give me closure even if it would hurt a little. So would you be so kind to just give me an answer to my question?

What happened?

I know it was just a one date, but please bear with me when I tell you that this has been a long one-sided interest that has been simmering on a very low heat for a while. And after we met, that’s when it started bubbling, and now I’ve reached my boiling point. My molecules are just jumping all around frantically waiting for your answer, before they turn into mere nothing, just air.

I’m disappointed by myself, I won’t lie to you. I wanted to take this experience as another learning lesson to help me grow when it comes to dating and men in general — ’cause God knows I really suck when it comes to that subject. I wish I can learn how to become the type of person who has pride and ego when it comes to love (big word I know, but just go with it). To meet people and not be attached to their story and to the dream of what could’ve been. But I still find myself doing the same “mistakes” I always seem to do. And I put mistakes in quotes because I no longer want to view them as such. This is my nature and this is who I am: emotionally-driven, deeply flawed, and passionately compassionate. You take those mistakes away from me and I lose my essence. Everyone around me wants to help me “grow” and overcome this character flaw in me, but I intrinsically adore it. It’s the only mistake I romanticize blindly and deliberately guide myself to fall into.

So all of this to tell you, I know, this will sound crazy, I know that you might not see it the way I do. I understand that, I am a logical human being too… Believe it or not! But what I am not, is someone who’s afraid to show realness and honesty. So just be honest, please don’t play games, please don’t ghost, and more importantly please don’t say anything you do not mean. And this advice is not for you to use with me, because what’s done is done, but please do use it with the next person to come. I’d like to think I can read people well, and I am pretty sure your intentions were never to hurt someone. And I also have a rough idea for what could’ve lead you to take this route of “silence”. Hence I forgive.

I'm actually quite grateful that you're somewhat of a stranger still, so the second-hand embrassement over my own fits of passion won’t be as sickening. Or at least, I hope. And maybe with the “virtual rose” you’ve received, you get an extra side of prose with that too.

I really don’t expect an answer from you anymore, and I’m still not sure if I will share this with you or not, cause thankfully I let go of a lot of steam already while writing this, and I’ll probably go back to my liquid state very soon.

[journaldefafa]

Free as a Bird?

I was raised like I was not enough. I was raised that all the good things in life will only come to me “if I …” there was always a condition. Good things don’t come to me out of nowhere, or from kindness, or from pure intentions. I have to strive for them, be perfect for them, be obedient, and look pretty. As a woman, today, I feel undeserving of love. Because I was systematically fed by my mother that I am not enough. That I still didn’t reach the level of perfect that makes me worthy of love. Or worthy for someone to even look at me. And today, I completely believe it. I don’t know what my good traits are because for years they’ve been clouded by my worst traits. My bad traits that remind me every day why I am the despicable version of myself till now. The ones that shame me everyday for ever dreaming I could escape this. Escape what seems to be written for me… a life so mundane.

I’m lazy, I don’t cook, I don’t clean, I rarely look good in the house, I’m fat, my hair’s a mess and it keeps falling, my skin is bad, my ugly tattoos, stretch marks and cellulite that mama keeps saying she only got when she was pregnant (unlike me, I got them when I was 13), I don’t know how to talk, I’m not eloquent, my laugh is loud and cheap, my words are rough and unfeminine, I’m too sensitive.

I know I’ve missed plenty still. I feel delusional trying to reassure myself that one day prince charming will come and he’ll swoop me away. And I go somewhere far away. And maybe never come back. I hate that I write this with so much guilt. I hate that I have this huge responsibility of being obedient. I can’t seem to break it, and even when I only crack, I get a heinous reaction from my mom that just makes me feel like I can never truly tell her how I feel. I can never tell her how hurt I am because of her, how she has controlled every aspect of my life, that she’s the reason I am who I am today.

She really cut off my wings, and now I feel like I am her prisoner. She says she can’t live without me, she can’t be far away from me, and she keeps me locked up and grounded. That I feel like if the day ever did come, where I do find someone, she’ll be the one tying me down so that I don’t fly again.

[journaldefafa]

Letter to 30

I have always wanted to do this -- where I talk to my future self. But somehow I always felt lazy to do so. Especially in video form. So here I am, a 25 year-old Fafa (one month before turning 26, shhh ;p), writing to 30-year old Fafa a sincere letter.

Hey Fadwa, not sure where to begin or what to say. So I'll start by stating where I am now, and where I would like to be by then. Today, I am in a good place in my life mentally. All those self-loathing, depressing thoughts are close to non-existant. I don't overthink like before, but I still have those occasional anxiety attacks. Unfortunately, if there's one issue that I am still not able to surpass is my body image and body dysmorphia. Especially the past few months, where I found myelf gaining weight and surrounded by people who are really triggering in terms of body image and body expectations. But whenever I feel like I'm about to spiral down into a rabbit hole, I'm able to just take a deep breath and trust the process. I introduced EMS to my life which makes me feel stronger and healthier. And I try, as much as I can, to control my food. Hopefully, I do see an improvement in my body soon. I have to add that I am still struggling with the idea of "what if my tattoo doesn't go away" and I hope that whatever results we get in the next 5 years, we are satisfied with it. So tell me, am I content with my body now?

Today marks my 4th month in this new Epson job. It still feels like a gift but I keep looking to the other side of the fence. I feel like maybe this isn't for me? It feels very boring. It is definetly a good way to make money, and there's room to grow, but am I passionate about it? Am I really invested in whatever I'm selling? No, I'm not. I still don't know what's my calling or what I want for myself. And I'm in no rush. I acknowledge that I have something good in my hand, and I am willing to follow through with it until it unfolds. But it would be nice to know that I got an opportunity later on to try working in a different country for a little while. Or eventually do Master's abroad -- eventhough I don't have the slightest clue what program will I go to. So tell me, am I doing something that speaks of who I really am?

Love... ahhh to love! Please tell me you've found the one. Please tell me that you're in love and happy. And that he's everything you wished for and more. As you know, there's no action whatsoever in the love department in my life. But I am eagerly waiting. I am in a place where I am ready for the big step and even slowly (very slowly) changing my perceptions on children. When I imagine myself head over heels in love with someone, I can't help but imagine the beauty of having children to share with each other. Let's see, I am hopeful. Eventhough I do get evil thoughts sometimes whispering to me that I will never find someone and that I'm not worthy of love. But so far, I've still won over these whispers. So tell me, is he right there next to you?

And finally spirtuality, I have been consistent with my relation to Allah. I haven't missed a prayer since mid of March. I feel purer, cleaner, and in peace. I hope you're maintaining the very hard work I am doing right now and doing even more. Getting closer, removing bad habits, introducing better practices in your life.

I'm too afraid to ask about our family... I hope they're all doing well and happy and alive. Just know starting recently, I am trying to improve my relationship with Papa. Since he came back from Gaza, I have reached a realization of how much he means to me, and that I want to salvage whatever we have left and even build on it. I just really hope everyone's happy. I hope Mama's health is great. And please tell me we got her the house of her dreams. You know how much I love Mama, I love her ظالمة او مظلومة, she is my purpose. So I hope you have good news for me here Fadwa.

And that's it Fadwita! Tell me, I want to hear from you. But for now, I am taking it one step at a time. And trying to be patient, cause I have a feeling that good things are about to happen and they're just around the corner!

[journaldefafa]

فصبر جميل

Hello Rolly? Is that your name or is this my old green diary’s name? Anyway, hi!

It’s been a while (again), and if I keep apologizing and giving out reasons onto why I haven’t written, I’ll just end up losing any momentum to write. So let’s go straight to the point.

I’m currently at work (in my new job) and I felt like reading some of my recent writings here on Tumblr. And boy am I grateful! I have only read the two recent posts; actually barely finished the second one.. due to the extreme CRINGE feeling I had! Oh God, it’s not like I am currently in love or anything to tell you that whatever I was feeling for that silly boy is not love, but because with the grace of God I have grown up a few years and matured enough to know that that was not it! I will not strip away those innocent and loving feelings from younger Fafa and I will not throw her under the bus, because at the end of the day that was in fact what she felt. But I am here today writing to tell you that it gets better. And that patience is a virtue and it is so beautiful. So many changes have happened in my life lately and most of them are just internal. But I have reached a level of peace that younger Fafa wouldn’t be able to grasp. The peace that she feared. The peace that she wasn’t willing to surrender to. But thankfully, I am strong enough to have surrendered for it. I just let go.

The beauty of the Arabic language is that the word peace (salaam / سلام) and surrender (istislaam / استسلام) come from the same root (s-l-m / سلم). And that’s exactly how I feel. I accepted my deliverance and surrendered to God. I decided not to be afraid of being close to Him and just let go. And He was patient, and more importantly, He was giving. I found God, not when I needed Him the most, rather when I felt like I needed Him the least! In February, I got this new amazing job, which felt like it was heaven sent. It was just too kind? It was too good for me that I couldn’t understand, why me? Why me after all what I’ve done? What’s so special about me? I kept saying that I must’ve done something good somewhere in my life to have been granted such gift. But little did I know that this gift was another concealed test from God. He gave me another chance to come closer. Heartbreak didn’t make me repent, nor pain, nor feeling lost. It was His kindness. How could God give me all these gifts with nothing in return from my side? I started counting all the gifts he has given me that I didn’t even know were gifts. I can walk, I can talk, I am currently breathing, I have my family, I have a house, I have my health, I have a job, I can travel, I can drive, I can go to the cinema, I have my beautiful voice, I am beautiful -- All these gifts that I never sat down and thanked Him for! 

Just like that, I started my journey with being a better person. Of course I started with praying, but then the pure little nuances started happening -- where I found myself being kinder to others and trying to put a good fingerprint into the world. I am not going to tell you that this journey was smooth. Unfortunately, I had to lose some dear people in my life in order to truly commit to my peace and what I want for myself. I am still trying to understand what I’ve done and whether it was a mistake or not! Maybe I’ll come back to you in a year and let you know... but for now, trust me when I say that I am in true bliss.

[journaldefafa]

Set me free

One year and half has passed by and I'm no different from where I was the day you left.

This was the realization I had yesterday: That every day that has passed since that lonely night in December, I have thought of you. Not one day in the past 556 days, I haven't thought about you. And this fact felt so heavy.

It's not that I couldn't believe it, because I knew it.. you were right there while I was thinking about it. It's just that it hurts, Amer. It hurts to know that I still think about you even when I've "partially" moved on. It's like you have burned your fingerprints on my skin and now my life is never the same.

I've been trying to see new people… and NOT to my surprise, it’s not working out. I compare everyone to you. Not like you were perfect, but at least you were perfect for me.

Everything in my life is a sign that we need to talk again. The Scorpions playing as the first song when I click shuffle is a sign. The Tiktok with the Tarot readings is a sign. The initial AC found anywhere is a sign. I look for you everywhere.. even though you're not there and these aren't signs.

Those are not divine interventions from God nor subliminal messages from the dark side. I force you into my everyday life, even when you no longer want to be part of it. I force you in my head and remind myself that you exist and what a tragedy it is that you're no longer there.

Yesterday I couldn't stand the pain of knowing that I might even be sabotaging many potential relationships just because they do not compare to you. You have me by the neck Amer and I can't seem to let go of your grasp. I don't want to let go actually.

I keep thinking of going into some sort of sorcery — where I can cast a spell on you so that you’d come back. Or a more peaceful direction — where I can see my future and for my own solace know whether I will ever move on.

Like yesterday I was making stupid vows to myself where I was telling myself that I'll never love anyone but you and that I'll wait for however long it takes. How do I know that this is love? How do I know that you're the one? What type of spell have you cast on me? It doesn't seem like I'm the witch, it's you! You're the sorcerer who have changed the trajectory of my life. My life is never the same.. What have you done? Stop this witchcraft you have cast upon me.

Give me back my life, give me back my peace, give me back my freedom, give me back myself.

[journaldefafa]

A Letter to You:

It’s December – which means all the memories are stampeding in my head, since it’s their anniversary. Two days ago, was our first date, today? It’s our first kiss – my first kiss. I don’t know if I feel silly or bold for writing this down, but these emotions better go somewhere… so here we go! I was asking myself the other day if “remembering” was a blessing or a curse? In the grand scheme of things, I believe it is a blessing. But having a vivid memory is also my eternal damnation in a way because there are no rules to what you remember, no filters! What you remember is what you remember, and those memories can either make you or break you. A good memory can turn to a bad one after time. A bad memory can lose its gravity with time. You can remember using all of your senses. A memory can be ignited by a certain smell, song, and touch. I’m grateful for the memories you gave me… I really am. Because they came in a point in my life where I thought I was undeserving. I couldn’t believe that I too, can have beautiful things and happy memories. Happiness always seemed so out of reach; I was always destined for a life of melancholy. I even started believing that this is my essence as a person – my sadness. It’s the only thing I know how to do, matter of fact, I excel at it! Give me a good memory and I’ll turn it into a sad one immediately. Anyways, that’s beyond my point. Though this period of “us” was brief – oh so brief, yet I would still like to thank you. Because man I’ve got some memories stored up that’ll put a smile on my face for years of hibernation. I know to you this is nothing, was nothing, just nothing – but to me? To me it was my revolution, my awakening, my epiphany. Thank you for making me see that I deserve nothing but beautiful things in my life. I’ve lived many years believing I’m unworthy of that. Lived many years believing these innocent moments would never belong to me – as I’m not privileged enough for this type of happiness. My past and background does not allow me to strive for such beautiful memories. I thought I was born to live in misery… because I came from a miserable place, a miserable love, a miserable family. But you showed me unintentionally, I assume, that this misery doesn’t have to be inherited and carried on. That I can break the cycle and just love. Believe me that if I loved you less, then I would’ve been able to send you this letter. I am that hopeless of a romantic; this is who I am in the most - authentic, real, put my heart out on my sleeve - kind of way. But just like all the dreamers out there, we eventually get crushed by the cruelty of the world. And in my case, your cruelty (and the world’s also!). Nonetheless, I will thank you again, and hopefully for the last time, because I want to stop dwelling on this… occurrence? Situationship? Whatever you call it! These memories have to stop being dwelled upon. I will always remember all the details of all the days I’ve had with you. And I will accept fate’s sly game of giving me just enough of good to make me want to live again. Because hand-to-god Amer, I never felt more alive than the days I were with you.

[journaldefafa]

Don’t utter his name

Currently my only refuge is to write, it has been officially 4 months since that day and I still find myself hurt, crying, and just mad. I don’t know if I’m mad at them or myself more? I have become so fragile that even words that carry the same initials as theirs trigger me. I can’t believe someone who was worth nothing to me before, was able to make me feel so worthless and disposable. Every time I try to pick myself up and brush off all the damage caused, I fall back again and way deeper than before. This toenail of a man has had me feeling so alone in this world and worth not an ounce of love. I feel so amazed that I ever felt worthy of love. I am not special. I feel like this time, someone has genuinely ruined me. And their traces are permanent. I feel like I can’t tell anyone because I will only make myself seem weak and naïve as everyone already thinks I am. I fear that people around me dismiss my experience because it has been so brief. I am ashamed that all of my heartbreaks happen in a blink of an eye, where there wasn’t really something concrete for me to hold on to. Because of him, I realized I have got attachment issues, and recently fear of being alone. I want to recover. I will recover. But maybe I’m just the type of person who takes the letting go process very personally and deeply. But until the day I no longer feel shivers running through my veins, my stomach churning, or my guts dropping, please don’t say his name to me. Please use any of the pseudonyms I gave him, they’re plenty. Do not humanize him because he wasn’t human. Do not sympathize with him because he didn’t sympathize with me. Don’t utter his name. His name burns me, shames me, laughs at me, ridicules me, and buries me under all the hurtful things he said and made me feel.

[journaldefafa]

My Love Manifesto

I’m not saying she was a saint, and I am pretty sure she made mistakes in her life. But through her, I’ve learnt what it is like to leave a legacy. That’s what I want to leave in this world — a legacy as the person with the kindest heart, the reincarnation of love. I don’t believe I have ever hurt someone intentionally... and if I did, I’ll be the first to apologize.

I am not one to flaunt (believe me because if I did I wouldn’t be insecure about the most beautiful gifts God has granted me), but I believe that God loves me so much. In whichever god you believe in, yes that one, that god... he loves me. I find him when I’m lost and I still find him when I’m found. My God, the one that’s between my lips when I whisper to him, and the one above me, when I hold my hands up high and talk to his universe in its entirety.

I am grateful for life, I am grateful for love, I am grateful for family, I am grateful for the lessons, I am grateful for the pain, and I am grateful for Fadwa — the girl who never fails to astound me. I learn new things about her every day and I drown deeper and deeper into her sensibility and get reminded of the beauty of being human. I always believed I was different, and I genuinely don’t care if people don’t see it or believe it. I was born to make a difference in the world, no matter how small. I have changed everyone I’ve known into a better person. I have always put my heart on my sleeve and was true to everyone.

I believe I am a messenger, and I am just waiting for my prophecy to descend.

[journaldefafa]

Where do I go from here?

It is kinda hysterical for me how the last thing I posted in 2020 seemed to be about losing my job. Oh God, if only you knew the chaos, that followed me (or rather the world) after that post. The world has gone into shambles and all we could do was stand by and watch... with our masks on.

This was technically my birthday week, so a “happy birthday” is in order. It was a good day, I turned 23. I spent it with the people I love, and I received lots of love and affection. I wished for a job, very desperately. I am starting to lose hope (kinda like already lost it). And I am already thinking of alternative plans like migrating and doing my master’s. Deep down, I know I am not up for the challenge. But truthfully, that’s why I want to do something as “wild” as that. I feel like if I don’t start now doing what I always thought I’d ought to do, to become my “adult self.” That life would slip through my fingers and I will find myself with nothing.

I am scared of being ordinary, but I am slowly learning that I am. Maybe this is my insecurities talking, but I cannot see myself doing great things anymore. Somehow my many job applications, interviews, and one nasty work experience has led me to believe that I am not special. I am just a set of brain and hands that does anything on command and employers are looking for so much more now. Oh yes side note, I am shaping up into a very dedicated communist-marxist-leninist. With all what’s going on, I am no longer able to overlook and unfeel how capitalism is exploiting all of us. And I am falling in love with Che Guevara, as I am reading his book.

Anyway, back to the depressing shit, these past 6 months, have had me reassess how I think of myself, but in a bad way. I always thought I was different from everybody else (wow what flattery) at least different from the environment I’m surrounded in (mostly because of my over-flowing emotions). And I somehow convinced myself that I will do great things. Maybe this is me pressuring myself, because I have grown in a generation where kids get famous at 15 and become millionaires at 19. But it’s not really about fame or money and more about my lifestyle and how I wanted to live my life. I wanted to “stick it to the Man” and live my life freely “and suck out the marrow of life.” And yes, although I am only 23, I feel like it’s almost too late now (IT’S NOT FADWA, it’s not). And when I think of it in a more vast way, what DO I really wanna do in my life? Because working in a company as a “marketing person” is truly not who I am. But then again, ya girl gotta earn some dough.

So I go back to the age-old question, asked by none other than Pocahontas herself (for context: she is my dp on this blog and I just emotionally understand her): “Where do I go from here?”

[journaldefafa]

Reality Check

Hi All, *drama time*

I don’t want to say too much or not say enough.

All I can say is that, God gave me one of his hard tests — a reality check.

After graduation in one month, I was lucky enough to get a job with a really good salary, benefits, place, and experience. And I know this post should be on LinkedIn, but fuck that shit, I hate LinkedIn.

The only downside was the people I worked with (and I’d like to thoroughly apologize to my friends and family, for listening to me while complaining about this for the past 7 months).

I thought I was able to handle them, but I couldn’t. Even though the majority of the “advice” were to “grow a thicker skin”, “this is work life, deal with it”, “you need to be diplomatic”, and all that condescending kind of shit. I failed.

I failed to let my heart turn into stone and throw away everything I stand for and believe in. I’ve spent years cultivating and understanding myself. Not to come to a job, and be forced to strip away my values, identity, and self so that I become “professional”.

The reality check is as follows... my whole life I surrounded myself with the people I love, with my circle. Anyone who hurts me or does not fit in within the circle is simply out. Unfortunately, I couldn’t control my circle at work. I had to work with the circle they have given me, and accept the many times they have hurt me because we are a “team” and we need to be diplomatic with each other. Today I have learnt that I am not immune to bad people. Today I got hurt, really hurt. Not that I trusted them and the shock of their betrayal hurt me. But the fact that I genuinely believe that I do not deserve to be hurt by hypocrites like them... from now on I will have to be in circles that are not compatible with who I am. And that’s just one of the many reasons why life sucks sometimes...

[journaldefafa]

نهاية العشرين

بكرة عيد ملادي و زي ما وعدتكم رح اكتبلكم إشي قبل ما اصير واحد و عشرين. بعرف إنو غريب عمبكتب بالعربي العامي بس صراحةً، أنا حاسه انو هاي أفضل طريقة أعبر فيها عن نفسي. فا لو حسيت إنه بدي إحكي إشي بالإنجليزي رح اكتب بالإنجليزي!

أنا كنت حاكية إني مش عارفة كيف ألخصلكم شو صار معاي تقريباً بهاي السنة الي فاتت و انا حالياً مش جاي عبالي انكد عليكم و لا على حالي فا رح أختصر كتير.

أولاً، هاي السنة كانت صعبة عليّ عشان مرضت كتير، و نوع المرض إلي أثر بشكلي الخارجي بس مو مرض خطير أو هيك و الحمدالله على هذا. أنا مرضت من ناحية بشرتي و صرت أشوف حالي بشعة و ما أحب شو عم بشوف بالمراية. يعني لإلي، لما كنت تسعطاش، كنت أخيراً بديت أحب حالي و أحب شكلي و أشوف حالي حلوة. بس صراحةً عمر العشرين كتير صعب. عشان إضطريت أعيش مع شخص، إلي هي أنا، بس ماكنت أحسها بتمثلني. إكتشفت قديش مظهري الخارجي مهم إلي، مو بس عشان الناس، بس عشاني. بحب أشوف حالي بأفضل صورة و للأسف ما صار هيك هالسنة و لا حتى حالياً، مع إني هلّه عم بحاول اني أكون صبورة و أستنى.

و هذا بيوصلني للفكرة التانية، إني أنا مو صبورة. لما بدي إشي بدي إياه هلّه! ما بقدر أستنى، و هذا أظن إحدى أعراض الكمالية أو الperfectionism. الحل مو موجود، غير انه فعلاً لازم أصبر.

شو كمان؟ يعني أحكيلكم عن العادات السيئة الي عندي إيها؛ بقارن حالي بالآخرين، ما بحب حالي، مش واثقة من نفسي، عندي خوف لما أضطر أعمل public speaking، ما بقدر مهراتي، ما بصلي، و لسه كتير...

بس أنا عنجد بدي أتغير و احسن نفسي بس مش عارفة من وين أبدأ. هيني عم بحاول أرجع للصلات تدريجياً و نشالله خير.

أنا هلّه حلمي و أملي لفدوى تاعت الواحد و عشرين، إنو تشتغل على نفسها حتى تصير إمرأة قوية، ناجحة، ذكية، جميلة، واثقة من نفسها، شجاعة، طيبة، حنونة، كريمة، مستقلة، مسؤولة، مثقفة، و أهم إشي إنه تكون مستعدة.

[journaldefafa]

Old drafts section

Hello. Ouch, I know. It has been more than 7 months! How cruel and disrespectful! So much has happened but yet again so little. I was planning on writing about so many things that has happened this week in my internship (see how I threw a life update in there so smoothly?), but I feel like it’s not the right time. Hopefully I’ll write a proper update of how the half of the year 2018 has been to me pretty soon. Let’s say September (nshallah). But just so you know, 2018 and the year 20, hasn’t been good to me and it’s NOT my year. Too many challenges and yes, too many loses. But for now what I did is post some of my old drafts that I left here that were created more than two years ago! I’ll put in the exact date of each post/draft, just so you (my non-existing beloved audience) will know that these are not my current emotions, but they are still valid, beautiful, and important to me. Have a nice read!

[journaldefafa]

Casualty of love

Draft 3 -- JUNE 3, 2017 (12:13 PM)

Please remind me to never fall in love ever again. It stripped away my dignity. Belittled my pride. Plus, it made me lose the little of what’s left of my confidence. After him, I realized that I was never capable of loving anyone. I never loved anyone without being vain and selfish. With him, I became selfless, he was what I woke up for and what I slept on. He became my god. I’m afraid of being by myself. I’m not letting myself be alone with my thoughts. Somehow I always occupy myself with people and things, because if I don’t, you show up in my head (you always do) but this time more vigorously and apathetically, you strip away all what I have left of my sanity and leave me with bits of madness that I try to shelter away and hide. Every time I’m by myself, the fear I feel is indescribable. I get the same feeling I felt on every first day of school, my stomach drops and my guts churn. And I start to cry, not because of you, but I’m just scared of how alone I am.