Hello, my name is Nadin I’m from Gaza. I’m a graphic design graduate. I’m a wife. And now — I’m a mother.
I finished my design studies just before the war began.
I had dreams of starting a small design studio, of making art that told stories. I used to think about colors, fonts, sketches. I used to think about the future.
Then the war came.
And the future became something we tried to hold onto, moment by moment.
On October 22, 2023, I was pregnant when a missile destroyed my husband’s family home.
25 members of our family were killed — his mother, his siblings, his nieces and nephews, children. Entire branches of a family tree gone in seconds.
We were displaced twice after that.
Everything we had disappeared — home, safety, routine, rest.
A few weeks later, I gave birth to our daughter.
There was no crib. No stillness. No celebration.
But she came into the world quietly and beautifully.
And in her eyes, I saw something I hadn’t felt in weeks:
life that still wanted to grow.
Now, I spend my days holding her and trying to build a world around her that doesn’t shake with explosions.
We don’t know what comes next.
There is no clear path. We are walking toward the unknown, step by step — with our daughter in our arms and hope as our guide.
🧡 How You Can Help
This is why I’m asking for support. Not for comfort — but for survival.
To help care for one baby girl who entered the world after everything else collapsed.
My name is Nadin, and I’m a mother from Gaza.
If you can spare anything, it will help us:
Cover basic needs, so we can breathe and heal
Support a path toward even the smallest stability in a place that has none
My husband manages the donations securely through a U.S.-registered Stripe account.
Everything is converted to USDT and exchanged here in Gaza.
The rates are difficult — $100 becomes only 195 shekels (July 2025) — but we use every shekel carefully, with full transparency and documentation.
🎨 Sharing a Piece of Me
I want to share more than my need.
Over the next few weeks, I’ll begin posting some of my graphic designs from before the war.
They are pieces of who I was — and who I still am.
They may not be perfect, but they hold something real:
my story before the silence, and my belief that beauty can still live alongside survival.
If you’ve made it this far, thank you.
If you can give — thank you.
And if you can’t, just sharing this post is a form of support I will never forget.
2087
vaporwave
ellievsbear
