A seat at my table – Diaries of a Deep Soul

Betrayal.. The Knife That Knows Your Name..

How apt that my article for ST resonates so well, I had to share..

Betrayal does not come from enemies.

It comes from people who had access.

Access to your trust. Your time. Your vulnerability. The parts of you that you do not hand out easily. That is what makes betrayal cut differently, it is not forced entry, it is invited in.

Let me be honest about it.

A stranger can hurt you, yes. But they cannot betray you. Betrayal requires proximity. It requires familiarity. It requires someone looking you in your eyes, knowing what matters to you, and choosing to violate it anyway.

That is not an accident.

That is brutal intention wrapped in disguise.

Because betrayal is rarely loud at first. It is subtle. Quiet shifts. Small inconsistencies. A change in energy you try to ignore because you want to believe the person you trusted would not cross that line.

But they already have.

And the moment you see it clearly? That is when the damage lands. Not just because of what they did, but because of who they revealed themselves to be.

See, betrayal does not just break your heart.

It rewires your perception.

It makes you question your judgment. Your instincts. Your ability to read people. It forces you to sit with the uncomfortable truth that someone you defended, someone you stood by, someone you made excuses for… Was never who you thought they were.

And that realisation?

That is the real wound.

Because now it is not just about losing, it is about rebuilding yourself. Relearning what trust even looks like. Deciding whether to stay open or to close off completely.

And here is where most people get it twisted.

They think betrayal makes them weak.

It does not.

Staying after you have seen the truth, that is where weakness creeps in. Ignoring red flags. Accepting disrespect. Shrinking yourself to maintain a connection that already violated you.

That is not loyalty.

That is self-abandonment.

Because real loyalty is mutual. It does not require you to bleed just to prove you care. It does not ask you to tolerate what breaks you just to keep someone comfortable.

Betrayal exposes imbalance.

It shows you exactly who benefits from your silence, your patience, your forgiveness. And once you see that, you have a choice… Continue the cycle… Or break it.

And breaking it?

That is where your power is.

Because walking away from betrayal is not just about leaving a person, it is about choosing yourself over the illusion of what you hoped they were.

NOW LET ME ADD FUEL TO IT…

Betrayers always have reasons.

They will say they were confused and had no-one else to turn too. They were being Hurt. Misunderstood. They will twist narratives, soften their actions, and try to meet you halfway with half-truths and convenient regret. Worst of all at times they make you feel guilty for asking for what rightfully belongs to you… And then sadly unnatural entities are also a very large part of being de-frauded and do not allow that no to leave your lips. That too works against them in a court of law…

But understand this clearly…

An explanation is not an excuse.

And remorse after exposure is not the same as integrity before the act.

If they could look you in your face and still choose to cross that line, then what they are capable of is already proven and far beyond your imagination. No apology can erase that, it can only reveal how they respond once they are caught.

So do not get lost in their words or fall for fake promises, that is what hurt my mom the most.

Watch patterns. Watch consistency. Watch what they do when they think you will leave.

Because betrayal does not end when it is discovered.

It ends when you decide you deserve better than what it offered.

AND NOW LET ME BRING IN THE LEGAL BLADE…

Because if you think betrayal and deception end in emotions alone, think again. You may bribe deceptive greedy people who are corrupting the system… But the system itself cannot be bribed, no amount of money can change the law.

In South African law, fraud does not just stain your character, it follows you into courtrooms. It becomes a matter of record. A charge. A claim. A consequence that no amount of storytelling can talk its way out of.

Fraud is both criminal and civil… Meaning the State can come for your freedom, and the victim can come for everything you took. Contracts collapse. Money gets clawed back. Damages are calculated down to the last cent. What you thought was smart becomes evidence. What you thought was hidden becomes documented. The truth always resurfaces and at the right time.

And perjury? That is not just lying… It is lying using and under oath, where truth is not optional. The law treats it as an attack on justice itself. You may not always be sued personally for the lie, but make no mistake, the system does not ignore it. It marks it. Records it. And when that lie causes real harm, it does not stand alone… It feeds into something bigger, something actionable.

Because in the end, the law does not care how convincing you sounded.

It cares about what can be proven.

And once proof enters the room, the narrative you created starts to collapse, piece by piece, until all that is left is the truth you tried to outrun and hide from. Never forget the law has long arms.

Now widen the lens, because this is not just local, it is global.

Across the world, fraud is treated for what it is, calculated theft with consequences that escalate fast.

In the United States, fraud can carry decades in prison depending on scale, wire fraud, bank fraud, identity fraud, they stack charges until the weight of it buries you. Financial penalties do not just hurt, they wipe you out.

In the United Kingdom, under the Fraud Act 2006, even the intention to deceive is enough. You do not need to succeed, you just need to try. That is how seriously the system treats dishonesty.

In United Arab Emirates, fraud is not just legal trouble, it is life-altering. Jail time, heavy fines, and for non-citizens, deportation. One act can cost you your livelihood and your place in the country.

In Saudi Arabia, fraud and theft are treated with absolute seriousness under both Sharia law and state legislation.

The Anti-Fraud Law (Saudi Arabia) criminalises financial deception, misrepresentation, and unlawful acquisition of assets. Offenders can face…

Imprisonment (up to several years depending on severity)… Heavy financial penalties. Full repayment of what was taken.

And where theft meets strict Sharia thresholds, clear proof, intent, and specific conditions, the consequences can escalate significantly, reflecting the system’s zero-tolerance approach to dishonesty.

Because in that system, it is simple…

Fraud is not just illegal.

It’s a violation of trust, morality, and accountability, on every level.

And across many jurisdictions, one thing stays consistent…

YOUR NAME IS STAINED IN WAYS YOU CANNOT IMAGINE AND IT NEVER RECOVERS EASILY…

A fraud conviction does not just punish you, it brands you. It follows you into job applications, financial systems, travel restrictions. Doors close before you even knock, because your record speaks before you do.

Because globally, the message is the same…

Fraud is not smart.

It is very costly.

And that is the Final Cut…

Sometimes the closure you are looking for is not an apology.

It is the clarity that you were dealing with someone who never had the capacity to value you correctly in the first place.

And once you accept that?

You stop bleeding for people who were never worth the wound.

“I Am the Proof”

There is a common belief people grow up holding onto. That life is a kind of fair exchange system. You give kindness, you receive kindness. You show loyalty, you are rewarded with loyalty. You love, and love finds its way back to you in equal measure. It is comforting, almost mathematical in its simplicity.

But life, as you have begun to recognise, does not operate on such clean equations.

What we give does not always return.

Not because what we gave lacked value, but because the world is not a mirror, it is a collection of hearts, each at a different stage of understanding, healing, and awareness. You may pour sincerity into someone who only knows how to take. You may offer patience to someone who only understands urgency. You may give love to someone who has not yet learned how to hold it without breaking it.

And so the return does not come, not in the way, or from the place, you expected.

But that is only half the truth.

Because what we give is always what we are.

This is where the real depth lies. Giving is not just an action, it is a revelation. It exposes the unseen architecture of your character. When you choose honesty in a moment where lying would be easier, you are not shaping the outcome, you are revealing your integrity. When you choose kindness in the face of coldness, you are not guaranteeing softness in return, you are demonstrating the softness within you.

Your actions are less about transaction and more about testimony.

They testify to who you are when no one is keeping score.

This shifts the entire perspective. Because if giving is not about what comes back, then it becomes something far more powerful, it becomes identity, not investment. You are no longer giving to get. You are giving because that is who you have decided to be.

And that kind of giving cannot be wasted.

Even when it seems like it disappears into the void, it does something profound. It builds you. It refines your character. It aligns your actions with your values. It strengthens your ability to remain consistent in a world that is often inconsistent with you.

There is also a deeper, almost spiritual dimension to this.

Not everything given is meant to return through people.

Sometimes what you give returns as growth. As clarity. As protection from what could have been worse. As unseen rewards that are not immediately visible, but quietly shaping your path. What you release into the world does not vanish, it transforms, redirects, and returns in forms that are often beyond your immediate perception.

And sometimes, it does not return at all in this life.

That is a difficult truth to sit with, but also a liberating one. Because it frees you from the exhaustion of expectation. It allows you to give without attaching your peace to someone else’s response.

It teaches you a different kind of strength, the strength to remain good in a world that does not always reward goodness in obvious ways.

But this does not mean you become naive or allow yourself to be used. There is a difference between giving from your character and giving without boundaries. Wisdom lies in knowing when your giving is a reflection of your values, and when it is being taken advantage of.

You are allowed to protect your energy while still preserving your essence.

So the real lesson in your thought is not resignation, it is elevation.

You rise above the need for immediate return.

You anchor yourself in who you are, not how others respond.

You understand that your giving is not a gamble, it is a declaration.

And in that, there is something incredibly powerful.

Because in a world where many people give based on what they hope to receive, the rare ones give based on who they have chosen to become.

And those are the people who, even when life feels unfair, never lose themselves in the process.

LEAP OF FAITH..

The house was just a house, they said. But when Dad passed, it became a mausoleum of memories, every corner echoing his absence, every room whispering his voice. Losing him felt like losing half of myself, my heart, my compass, my best friend. I stayed away more than I lived there, trying to escape the hollow ache, but the emptiness followed me like a shadow I could not outrun.

Then Mom slipped from this world in my arms. Her final breaths, heavy with worry and unspoken pain, tore my soul in two. I saw the love behind her tired eyes, the silent battles she fought in trusting the wrong people, the scars of giving her heart despite betrayal. And when she left, I returned to the house again, my supposed safe haven, now a cage. Each room held memories that suffocated me, walls that bound me in grief, chains forged from loss and sorrow.

I got sick in ways that shook me to the core. I suffered loss after loss. My back broke under the weight of loneliness, taunts, and betrayal. I was mocked for my grief, laughed at for my vulnerability, slandered in ways I could never answer. I watched as whispers spread like poison, strangers in familiar faces turning against me, accusing me of faults I never carried, judging me for pain I never chose. Every day became a battlefield of silence and hostility. I carried burdens no one saw, suffered injustices no one acknowledged, and bore humiliation with no hand to hold me.

At forty-four, I became an orphan, not just in title, but in the rawest, most shattering reality of solitude. Mom and I had both extended blind trust to someone who turned out to be a professional thief, a wolf in familiar clothing. I was scammed, betrayed, and done down by someone I believed was my own. Every act of kindness, every gesture of trust, was twisted against us. Yet in that moment of ultimate loss, I found clarity. I refused to let naivety and manipulation dictate my life. I took back my control, even when it meant facing the cold, harsh truth of who was really for me and who was there only to profit from me.

And profit they did, until the money ran out. Then, the smiles vanished, the words of comfort turned to silence, and the fake love dissolved into nothing. I had seen it all, the opportunists, the fair-weather allies, the ones who stood only when it suited them. But I had also learned something far more valuable, that true support is rare, that loyalty is priceless, and that I could survive even the deepest betrayal because Allah had never left my side.

Yet in the darkest nights, when every human hand had withdrawn, one Presence never left me. Allah was my strength, my courage, my unwavering support. In the silence of my despair, He whispered hope. In the weight of my grief, He carried me. In the emptiness of my soul, He became my refuge.

Today, I need no one but Him. He is my courage when fear threatens to swallow me. He is my anchor when storms rage around me. He is the quiet strength that allowed me to take the leap of faith, to leave the pain behind and step toward the life I am meant to live.

For every tear I shed alone, He was there. For every moment I thought I could not go on, He lifted me. And in losing what I loved most, I found what I need most.. Him, and Him alone.

Accountability, Integrity, and Restorative Apology..

“IF YOU ARE GOING TO APOLOGISE, MAKE SURE THE APOLOGY IS AS LOUD AS THE DISRESPECT WAS!!!

There is a certain weight carried in the statement, “If you are going to apologise, make sure the apology is as loud as the disrespect was.” It speaks to a universal emotional truth, harm that is done loudly cannot be healed quietly. Disrespect often echoes. It reverberates through trust, dignity, and the emotional fabric of a relationship, whether romantic, familial, or professional. And when an apology comes in whispers, in half-hearted gestures, or behind closed doors, it fails to align with the magnitude of what was inflicted. This thought is not about revenge or dramatic reactions, it is about the balance between injury and repair, the integrity of accountability, and the human need for emotional fairness.

Disrespect rarely happens softly. It may be delivered through harsh words, public humiliation, betrayal, neglect, or actions that leave lingering emotional bruises. When someone disrespects you, it is not just the behavior that hurts, it is the message behind it. Disrespect says, “I did not value your feelings in that moment.” When the wrongdoing is public or loud, the impact magnifies because the shame, hurt, or embarrassment is amplified by visibility. And so, when the apology comes quietly, in private, or without real effort, it can feel like the person is trying to remedy the harm without owning it. It is an attempt to erase the act without confronting its full shadow.

A loud apology is not necessarily about volume, it is about sincerity, ownership, and equal energy. It is about ensuring that the effort to heal matches the effort that caused pain. The disrespect was delivered boldly, therefore, the apology should be delivered courageously. Loudness in this context means clarity, no excuses, no minimising, no shifting blame. It means taking responsibility with the same force that the original action carried. It is a declaration that the person understands the gravity of their behavior and respects you enough to heal the wound with intention rather than convenience.

There is also an element of justice woven into this idea. When someone disrespects you in front of others but apologises in private, the damage to your reputation remains unaddressed. The world heard the insult, but only you heard the remorse. That imbalance leaves the emotional ledger incomplete. A loud apology seeks to restore not only your heart but also your dignity. It repairs the story that was broken. It says to the world, “I was wrong, and they deserved better.” In that, the apology becomes more than words..

It becomes restoration.

Moreover, a loud apology requires emotional maturity. It requires humility, vulnerability, and the courage to face one’s own flaws. Many people find it easy to disrespect but difficult to take responsibility because accountability exposes ego. To apologise loudly is to confront oneself honestly. It is a sign of growth and a testament to the value placed on the relationship. It honors the person who was hurt by acknowledging that their feelings matter just as much as one’s own pride.

On the other side, demanding a loud apology is also an act of self-respect. It is a refusal to accept half-measures or quiet attempts to sweep things under the rug. It is a declaration that your heart is not a place for hidden repairs, if the damage was bold enough to shake you, the healing must be bold enough to steady you. It rejects emotional crumbs and insists on sincerity, accountability, and clear effort.

Ultimately, this thought is a reminder that healing requires balance. Wrongdoing and apology must carry equal weight. Loud disrespect requires loud redemption. When people match their apologies to the magnitude of their actions, relationships stand a chance of being rebuilt with honesty rather than resentment. And when they do not, silence becomes another form of disrespect.

A loud apology is not just a correction, it is a commitment. It is an active promise that the mistake will not be repeated, a visible and heartfelt effort to restore trust. And in a world where it is easy to hurt others and harder to be accountable, insisting on equal energy in apology is a powerful act of self-worth.

BECAUSE IF THE DISRESPECT ECHOED.. THEN THE HEALING MUST ECHO TOO..

Part Four.. Healing, Boundaries, and Faith.. Reclaiming Life After Psychological Warfare

Exploring how healing begins when survivors learn to protect their peace, honor their wounds, and anchor their hearts in faith.

Living with Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (C-PTSD) often feels like surviving a war that the world never saw. The battlefield may be invisible, but the aftermath is very real. The body carries memories, the nervous system remains alert, and the heart learns to move carefully through a world that once felt unsafe.

But survival is not the final chapter. At some point, the journey begins to shift from simply enduring trauma to reclaiming life after it.

Healing does not mean forgetting the past or pretending the wounds never existed. Instead, healing is the gradual process of teaching the body, mind, and soul that life can be lived again without constant fear.

Healing Is Not Linear.

One of the hardest truths about healing from complex trauma is that it rarely follows a straight path. There are moments of peace, clarity, and emotional strength, followed by days when old memories, triggers, or emotions resurface unexpectedly.

For many survivors, this can feel discouraging. It can seem as though progress has disappeared overnight.

But healing does not move backward. Even when retraumatization occurs, the awareness gained along the journey remains. Each moment of reflection, each boundary set, each prayer whispered in a moment of distress is part of rebuilding safety within the self.

In Islam, patience (sabr) is not passive endurance. It is an active perseverance through hardship, trusting that growth and wisdom are unfolding even when the process feels slow.

The Power of Boundaries.

One of the most transformative steps for survivors of C-PTSD is learning to establish boundaries.

When someone has lived through prolonged psychological harm, they often become accustomed to accommodating others, minimising their own needs, or tolerating behavior that continues to reopen wounds.

Healing requires a shift.

Boundaries are not walls built out of anger, they are acts of self-respect and protection. They define what is safe, what is acceptable, and what is no longer welcome in one’s life.

Islam teaches dignity and self-respect. Protecting one’s emotional well-being is not selfish, it is an acknowledgment that every human being deserves safety and compassion.

Sometimes the most powerful act of healing is simply saying..

“This no longer has access to my peace.”

Faith as an Anchor in the Healing Process.

For those navigating the complexities of trauma recovery, faith can become an anchor when emotions feel turbulent.

Through prayer, remembrance (dhikr), and trust in Allah (tawakkul), the heart finds grounding even when the nervous system is still learning to relax.

Faith does not erase trauma responses, but it creates a spiritual framework for understanding suffering and growth. It reminds survivors that their struggles are seen, their resilience is meaningful, and their journey is not unfolding without purpose.

In moments when the past feels overwhelming, faith gently reminds the soul..

You are still here.

You are still standing.

And your story is still being written.

Reclaiming Your Life.

Perhaps the most profound part of healing from C-PTSD is the realisation that trauma does not get to define the entirety of who you are.

Yes, the past shaped parts of your nervous system. Yes, certain memories may still echo. But beyond those experiences exists a full human being capable of love, empathy, faith, joy, and connection.

Survivors often develop extraordinary emotional depth because they understand suffering in ways others may never fully grasp.

And that depth can eventually become a source of wisdom, compassion, and strength.

Healing is not about becoming the person you were before trauma.

It is about becoming someone even more aware, more grounded, and more intentional about how you move through the world.

Closing Reflection.

The journey of living with, “Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder” is not easy, and it is rarely understood by those who have never experienced prolonged psychological harm.

But survival itself is a testament to resilience.

Every breath taken during a difficult moment, every boundary set, every prayer whispered in hope is proof that healing is already unfolding.

And sometimes, the greatest victory is simply this..

Choosing peace after a lifetime of surviving chaos.

Part Two.. Living with C-PTSD .. Faith in the Midst of Psychological Warfare..

An exploration of what it means to carry prolonged trauma while holding onto faith, healing, and the quiet determination to survive.

There are battles that the world sees, and then there are battles that rage entirely inside the mind, the heart, and the body. Living with,

Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder,

(C-PTSD) often feels like the latter. A form of psychological warfare where the past refuses to remain in the past, and the present is constantly negotiating with the echoes of trauma.

For someone like me, who is naturally empathetic, loving, and deeply sensitive, this war takes a unique shape. My heart wants to connect, to love, to give and yet my nervous system sometimes reacts as though I am still trapped in spaces that once caused profound harm. This is the paradox of C-PTSD. Deep love and deep pain coexisting in the same body. My joy and empathy are vibrant and real, yet triggers can suddenly pull me into fear, anger, or despair, sometimes without warning.

Trauma and the Lens of Faith.

In Islam, trials and hardships are part of human life. The Qur’an teaches that every soul will be tested, that believers will face struggles in patience (sabr) and reliance upon Allah (tawakkul). For survivors of prolonged trauma, these teachings carry both comfort and challenge. The heart may find peace in prayer, remembrance (dhikr), and reliance on Allah, yet the body can still react as though the danger is immediate.

This is because trauma lives in the nervous system. Even when the past is physically over, the body remembers. The heart may trust, but the body is still learning to feel safe. This is especially true for those of us who have endured years of abuse or neglect, emotional, psychological, and otherwise.

Sometimes it feels as though yesterday has not ended. Even when I am in a safe environment, my body reacts to subtle reminders of the past. A dismissive tone, a sudden confrontation, or the feeling of being dismissed. These moments are not about weakness, they are survival responses that were trained over years of harm.

The Inner Battlefield.. Nafs, Memory, and the Nervous System.

Islam teaches that the nafs (the self) can struggle, resist, and grow. In the context of C-PTSD, the nafs feels this struggle acutely. The mind may know the present is safe, the heart may trust in Allah, yet the body reacts as though it is still under threat.

Retraumatization in this sense is almost like a shadow invading the present, a whisper from yesterday that awakens old survival mechanisms. The nervous system has learned to act first, to protect first, and ask questions later. This is why trauma responses can feel extreme even in moments that, to the outside observer, seem minor.

Yet in the Islamic perspective, patience, remembrance, and prayer are tools that allow the heart and mind to anchor even when the body is turbulent. They do not erase the past, but they create moments of grounding where faith can whisper..

“You are safe now. Allah sees you. He has not left you.”

The Importance of Emotional and Spiritual Safety.

For survivors of C-PTSD, safe environments are not optional, they are essential for healing. Emotional safety allows the nervous system to gradually unlearn the constant hypervigilance that trauma has enforced. Consistency, respect, and validation retrain the brain to recognise real threats versus echoes of the past.

Islamic guidance emphasizes compassion, gentleness, and mercy in human interactions. Just as the Prophet ﷺ approached those who were suffering with patience and empathy, survivors of trauma benefit from spaces where respect, understanding, and kindness are practiced. Boundaries are essential, they are a form of protection and self-respect, not selfishness.

Living Authentically Despite Trauma.

Living with C-PTSD does not negate the capacity for love, empathy, or faith. My sensitivity is not a flaw, it is part of my nature. The trauma has shaped my experiences, yes, but it does not define my heart. Healing means learning to navigate life while honoring both my vulnerabilities and my strengths, grounding myself in faith, and seeking spaces where I can thrive safely.

C-PTSD may make life harder, but it also teaches profound truths. The human heart can remain compassionate even after suffering, the spirit can maintain hope even when the body trembles, and faith can act as a guide when the mind and body struggle to reconcile the past with the present.

Bleeding Truth.. Rewriting Myself in Ink, Not Wounds..

We bled.

Not publicly.

Not theatrically.

But in the quiet ways that do not trend.

We bled in silence.

In bathrooms where we stared at ourselves and whispered, “You will be fine.”

In conversations where we swallowed what we really wanted to say just to keep the peace.

In relationships where we were strong for everyone but ourselves.

And then we closed chapters.

Not because it did not hurt anymore.

Because staying was hurting more.

For a long time, I lived inside narratives that were handed to me.

“She is too emotional.”

“She is too intense.”

“She will survive.”

“She always does.”

But surviving is not the same as living.

And being strong is not the same as being supported.

So let me tell you the truth properly.

I was not “too much.”

I was carrying too much .. “Alone”..

I was not “difficult.”

I was asking for .. “Reciprocity”..

I was not “cold.”

I was exhausted from being warm in rooms that never heated me back.

There is a difference between being misunderstood and being misrepresented.

I was both.

And the most painful part?

I started believing it.

I believed that endurance was love.

That silence was maturity.

That self-sacrifice was virtue.

That explaining myself over and over again was patience.

It was not.

It was self-abandonment dressed up as strength.

Speaking my truth did not look powerful at first.

It looked like shaking hands.

It sounded like a steady voice cracking mid-sentence.

It felt like guilt fighting with relief.

But honesty is not aggression.

Boundaries are not cruelty.

Distance is not hatred.

And choosing yourself is not selfish.

So yes .. We bled.

Yes .. We broke illusions.

Yes .. We closed doors we once prayed would open.

NOW?

Now we are changing the narrative.

Not by pretending the wounds did not happen.

Not by rewriting history to protect other people’s comfort.

But by telling the story correctly.

My story is no longer about what happened to me.

It is about what I did after it happened.

I stopped explaining.

I started observing.

I stopped begging for clarity.

I became it.

I stopped shrinking to fit rooms.

I started leaving them.

Growth will look like rebellion to those who benefited from your silence.

Peace will look like arrogance to those who preferred your chaos.

Boundaries will look like betrayal to those who fed off your access.

Let them misunderstand.

You are not here to be digestible.

You are here to be honest.

This new narrative is quiet.

Grounded.

Unapologetic.

It is resilience without bitterness.

Faith without naivety.

Strength without self-abandonment.

And if you are reading this while still bleeding .. If you are closing chapters with trembling hands .. If you are speaking truth with a voice that feels unfamiliar .. You are not alone..

The shift feels lonely before it feels powerful.

But one day you will look back and realise..

The moment you told the truth about your life, was the moment your life started telling the truth back.

We bled.

We closed chapters.

We spoke.

Now we author with intention.

And this time, the story is not about surviving the storm.

It is about becoming the calm after it.

If this touches something in you .. Sit with it.

If it sparks something in you .. Honour it.

If it heals something in you .. Protect it.

The narrative is yours now.

WRITE IT HONESTLY .. AFTER ALL IT IS YOUR STORY TO TELL..

Access Denied 🚫

It did not start with me becoming distant.

It started years ago.

As a child. As a daughter.

In a house where entitlement lived louder than gratitude.

Where sacrifices were expected, not appreciated.

Where expenses were shifted.

Where responsibilities were absorbed by one woman who should have been protected instead of drained.

I grew up watching my mother. Mother children she never bore.

Fitting bills that were never hers to fit.

Carrying weight that was never meant for her tender shoulders.

Furnishing needs that were never her responsibility.

Stretching herself thin so others could live comfortably in their entitlement.

And somewhere in all of that, my future was treated like it could wait.

Like it was optional.

Like I would “be fine.”

Do you know what that does to a child?

It takes away her voice, silences her in a very raw way. It emotionally and mentally makes her small.

It makes her believe her dreams are negotiable.

I was pushed aside in ways subtle enough to deny, but loud enough to shape me. Made to feel like my aspirations were secondary. Like my security could be sacrificed. Like my voice did not carry weight.

And for years, I internalised it.

I apologised for wanting more.

I minimised my hurt.

I convinced myself that loyalty meant silence.

But now, going through my own struggles, navigating financial strain, fighting battles that feel too heavy some days, I cannot even begin to imagine what my mother carried.

The weight. The pressure.

How burdened she must have been, silently holding it all together while slowly breaking underneath it.

She was like a pressure cooker, stuffed and stuffed, the lid forced shut, left on the stove, for far too long.

And then came that moment.

The silent explosion. And there I was.

Robbed yet again.

Robbed of more time with my mother.

The exhaustion. The quiet heartbreak.

The things she must have swallowed to protect everyone else.

And now I understand something clearly..

A lot was fabricated.

Narratives were built to protect entitlement.

Stories were twisted to preserve comfort.

Blame was redirected to maintain control.

So let me make this crystal clear.

I do not owe my family a thing.

However, there are debts owed.

There are answers required.

There are truths that will no longer be buried under “keep the peace.”

Firstly, let me clear up this self-created misconception, because the way people exaggerate starts an itch in a place that cannot be reached to scratch 😂

I am not sitting with a bank balance bursting at the seams.

I am not secretly thriving whilst pretending to struggle.

I am, however repaying my debt to ALLAH.

I am surviving what was left behind.

I am rebuilding what was compromised.

And I will no longer apologise for stating that.

From here on out, I will speak my truth.

Controlled. Measured. But unfiltered.

And yes, sadly it will sting.

Because the truth is bitter to those who benefited from the lie.

What you do unto others eventually rests at your own feet.

That is not revenge. That is divine balance.

And NO..

I have never wished ill on the family ALLAH chose for me. I never will.

I am grateful.

Not for the pain. But for the lessons.

Because those lessons shaped me.

They taught me discernment.

They taught me boundaries.

They taught me how to stand without trembling.

But hear me clearly..

I will not keep digging at my scars just to validate someone else’s pain.

I will not keep apologising for being right.

And I will never again allow myself to be treated like that oppressed, afraid little girl I once was.

That girl still exists.

But she now stands behind unbreakable glass.

Watching. Observing.

Seeing how ALLAH turns tables without her lifting a finger.

I cannot take credit for what ALLAH has decreed.

There were many chapters I did not understand whilst I was living them, chapters filled with confusion, exhaustion, misplaced loyalty, and silent suffering.

But when you step back, you see the pattern.

The book may close.

But a new one is released every time you make a wise decision after brutal lessons.

And I have made mine.

A new journey began the day I stopped shrinking.

It is a path I must walk alone for now.

Not bitter. Not angry. Just aware.

Until ALLAH writes the next chapter.

Access Denied is not hostility.

It is protection.

It is me finally choosing forward, step by step, without dragging history behind me.

To my family, I wholeheartedly thank you.

Not because the pain brought happiness.

But because it gave me courage.

Courage to leap.

Courage to leave comfort.

Courage to stop living small.

And I have never been happier or more at peace and content.

The oppressed little girl, she grew up.

She does not ask for permission anymore.

Because ALLAH already signed off on her permission slip.

And for as long as ALLAH is pleased with me, nothing formed against me and nothing meant to break me will succeed. Except by HIS will.

I will walk this path with grace.

And obedience to ALLAH.

The End of Who You Thought I Was 🚫✋🏽

This is the first piece I write after my silence.

And silence did not weaken me.

It sharpened me.

I did not disappear.

I recalibrated.

I stepped back long enough to see who was clapping for me and who was calculating me. I watched who showed up when I had nothing to offer but my presence. I saw who confused my kindness for compliance. Who mistook my patience for permission. Who thought my softness meant I would always fold.

That girl is gone.

Not the grateful one.

Not the faithful one.

Not the woman who still wakes up and says Alhamdulillah even when her back hurts and her bank account is whispering stress.

No.

The girl who allowed herself to be stepped on for the sake of “keeping peace”?

She has retired.

I fought too hard internally to go backwards externally.

You do not survive the kind of nights I survived, crying quietly so nobody thinks you are weak, praying through pain because sujood is the only place that makes sense and then return to accepting crumbs.

You do not hand your battles to ALLAH and then keep bowing to people.

I am grateful. Deeply.

But I am not gullible.

I am soft with my LORD and strategic with the world.

There was a time I would shrink to fit rooms that could not hold me. I would over-explain myself to people committed to misunderstanding me. I would carry emotional weight that was not mine just to prove I was “good.”

I am still good.

But I am no longer available for misuse.

This new chapter is not loud.

It is intentional.

It is me understanding that boundaries are not walls. They are doors with locks and keyhole blockers. And not everyone gets a key. Not everyone even gets to knock.

Stay in your lane.

Mind your own.

Respect my space.

Because I fought for this space.

I fought through financial stress that made me question everything but my faith. I fought through silence from people who should have spoken. I fought through illness that humbled my body but strengthened my spirit. I fought through my own overthinking, my own attachment, my own need to fix what ALLAH told me to release.

And I released it.

Step by step.

Not ten steps back. Not even one.

Forward.

Even if forward looks slow. Even if forward looks quiet. Even if forward looks like saying “no” without explaining why.

Forward looks like trusting that what is written for me cannot be blocked by anyone. Forward looks like refusing to beg for what is already decreed. Forward looks like protecting my energy the same way I protect my salaah.

Non-negotiable.

I am not your usual “walk all over her” type anymore.

I am the woman who will smile, wish you well, and remove herself entirely.

I am the woman who no longer chases closure. I close doors myself.

I am the woman who does not need to raise her voice because her absence will speak.

This comeback is not about revenge.

It is about refinement.

It is about understanding that gratitude does not require self-sacrifice.

It is about knowing that ALLAH saw every tear, every anxious night, every time I swallowed words just to keep things calm. And if HE preserved me through that, why would I now lower myself to fit into spaces HE already pulled me out of?

I am not angry.

I am aligned.

Aligned with the woman I prayed to become.

Aligned with the peace I begged for.

Aligned with the standard I once felt guilty for having.

I will move step by step forward from here.

Carefully.

Prayerfully.

Powerfully.

No more taking ten steps back to comfort people who were comfortable watching me struggle.

No more dimming my clarity to protect fragile egos.

No more confusing loyalty with self-abandonment.

This is growth that cost me something.

This is peace that was paid for in tears.

This is faith that was tested before it was strengthened.

And now?

Now I walk differently.

Not rushed.

Not reckless.

Not reactive.

Rooted.

If you meet me in this new chapter, understand this..

Respect is the minimum.

Peace is mandatory.

Access is earned.

And my forward movement?

Permanent.

This is not just a better me.

This is a wiser, firmer, grateful-but-guarded, pray-first-move-second, stay-in-your-lane kind of woman.

And I am not stepping backwards for anyone ever again.

“The Ones That Broke Me Created This Version.”

What experiences in life helped you grow the most?

THE ONE’S THAT BROKE ME.. RE-SHAPED ME..

Not the pretty milestones. Not the celebrations. Not the moments where everything made sense and people clapped for me. It was the abandonment. The silence. The betrayal. The nights I cried into my pillow so no one would hear the crack in my voice. The months I survived on fumes, emotionally, financially, spiritually and still somehow woke up for Tahjud.

Growth did not come wrapped in blessings. It came wrapped in disappointment.

The biggest growth came from realising that the people I would bleed for would not bruise for me. That when I needed covering, I was exposed. When I needed protection, I was told to be patient. When I needed provision, I was handed excuses. That hurt did not just sting.. It rearranged me.

I grew the most the day I stopped begging humans for what only ALLAH controls.

When I finally understood what it meant when ALLAH says in the Qur’an..

“And whoever relies upon ALLAH, then HE is sufficient for him.” (65:3).

I had been saying I trusted HIM, but I was still trying to control outcomes. I would make du’a and then obsess. Hand it over and then grab it back. That internal tug-of-war exhausted me more than the actual problem.

Another thing that grew me?..

ILLNESS..

When your body humbles you, your ego does not survive. Pain strips you. It teaches you patience in a way comfort never can. When your spine will not allow you to pray 20 rakaats and you are on the floor fighting tears because sujood is the only place you feel safe.. THAT CHANGES YOU.. That makes you understand that worship is not about performance. It is about surrender.

FINANCIAL STRESS GREW ME TOO..

Living hand to mouth. Maxed credit cards. Banks calling. Knowing that money that could ease your burden exists, but is not in your hands. That kind of stress can either rot your heart or refine it. I had moments of anger, oh yes I most certainly did. Did I act on that anger, no I chose not too. I had moments where I questioned fairness. But then I realised something heavy..

Provision does not define worth. Dependence does.

And every time I thought I was drowning, ALLAH threw me something, not always money, but strength. A kind word. A shift in perspective. A reminder that rizq is not just cash.. It is health, iman, clarity, protection from things I do not even see.

THE HARDEST PART OF GROWTH CAME FROM LETTING GO..

Letting go of people who felt familiar but were not safe. Letting go of conversations I desperately wanted to have. Letting go of being understood. Drawing boundaries even when my hands shook. Saying,

“For my peace, I am drawing the line here,”

And meaning it. That was not weakness. That was evolution.

And then there is RAMADAAN..

Standing in Taraweeh when my body is aching and burnt out, but my soul is desperate. Choosing ALLAH over distraction. Choosing silence over revenge. Choosing dignity over drama. Choosing sabr when my nafs wants to scream. This month is not just cleansing me.. It is exposing me to myself.

The truth is, I grew the most when I realised I do not have to chase what is written for me.

What is mine will not miss me. What misses me was never mine.

I grew when I stopped seeing myself as a victim of circumstances and started seeing myself as a woman being sharpened. Tested, yes. But also elevated. Refined. Protected from people and paths that would have destroyed me slowly.

I AM NOT WHO I WAS A YEAR AGO..

I do not panic the same. I do not beg the same. I do not attach the same. I do not tolerate the same. I do not love recklessly anymore. I love with awareness. I give with boundaries. I trust, but I verify. And above all, I return everything to ALLAH before it has a chance to poison me.

The experiences that grew me the most were the ones that made me feel like I would not survive them.

AND YET HERE I AM.. SOFTER WITH ALLAH.. HARDER WITH PEOPLE.. CLEARER WITH MYSELF..

“When a Soft Heart Becomes a Liability.. How Kindness Without Boundaries Cost Me Everything”

What could you do differently?

I used to believe that having a soft heart was a strength. I gave easily, trusted quickly, and assumed people would treat me with the same sincerity I offered them. I thought kindness would protect me, that good intentions would be returned with honesty. Instead, my softness became an open door.
Little by little, I was taken advantage of. Promises were made and broken. Money disappeared. Trust was abused. I did not notice the damage at first because I kept making excuses for people, choosing understanding over self-protection. By the time I realised what was happening, I was broke, betrayed, and standing in a reality I never imagined for myself—homeless, stunned, and ashamed.
That was when the truth hit me.. a soft heart without boundaries does not survive in a hard world.

I used to believe that having a soft heart was my greatest strength. I wore it openly, trusted easily, and gave freely, money, time, love, energy, without question. I believed kindness would protect me, that people would honor what I offered, that decency would be returned. I thought my compassion was armor, my empathy a bridge between myself and the world.

I WAS WRONG.

They lied. They cheated. They smiled in my face while stealing from me behind my back. Little by little, my generosity became my vulnerability. Promises were broken, trust was abused, and I was left with nothing. Broke. Scammed. Homeless. And the worst part was the disbelief, the quiet, gnawing shame of realising that my very nature, my openness, had been used against me. I was not careful enough. I was not strong enough. I was not hard enough to survive in a world that preys on the soft-hearted.

The pain was crushing. It was not just the loss of money or possessions, it was the betrayal of my trust, the emptiness of seeing kindness turned into weaponised weakness. I cried for the people I believed in, screamed at the sky for justice, hated myself for being too soft, too human.

And yet, through that devastation, I learned a bitter truth, kindness alone is not enough. A soft heart without boundaries is not virtue, it is vulnerability waiting to be exploited. To survive, I had to forge a harder exterior, to develop a solid character capable of protecting my heart without destroying it. I had to learn how to care without being crushed, how to trust without being broken, how to give without losing myself.

Transformation does not mean abandoning kindness, it means safeguarding it. I still want to care, to love, to trust, but now with eyes wide open. I recognise the masks of deceit, I sense danger before it arrives, and I place my compassion where it will not be weaponised against me. I have learned that self-respect and survival are not betrayals of empathy, they are extensions of it.

I am still soft. I still feel deeply. But I am guarded. I am cautious. I am prepared. Pain taught me what gentleness could not, that a soft heart in a hard world needs armor, but it does not need to become cold. I give, but I protect. I trust, but I measure. I care, but I do not let myself be destroyed.

The world may take advantage of the soft-hearted, but the broken-hearted can rise stronger, wiser, and unbroken in spirit. I am no longer naive, but I am not hardened. I am simply prepared. And in that preparation, I have finally learned to survive without surrendering my soul.

STAY IN YOUR LANE. GPS INCLUDED..

If you had a freeway billboard, what would it say?
If I had a freeway billboard, it would not advertise a product. It would offer a reminder. “Stay in your lane, but most importantly, remember which one it is.”
Because most accidents in life do not happen from speed.
They happen when people forget where they are meant to be going
and start drifting into spaces that were never theirs.

If I had a freeway billboard, it would not shout. It would not sell.

It would simply say..

“Stay in your lane, but most imperatively, remember which one it is.”

We are taught early to stay in our lane. Mind your business. Focus on yourself. Do not interfere. But no one really talks about the harder part, remembering which lane is actually yours.

Some people drift because they are lost.

Others drift because they are curious.

And some drift because they see someone else moving forward and panic, thinking they are behind.

Life is a lot like a freeway. Everyone’s moving at different speeds, heading toward different destinations, carrying different loads. And yet we measure ourselves against the car next to us, forgetting that we may not even be going the same way.

When you forget your lane, you start comparing journeys that were never meant to be compared. You start competing where you were meant to grow. You start questioning your pace instead of trusting your path.

And the truth is, not every lane is meant for you. Some lanes are faster, louder, more crowded. Others are quieter, steadier, and less visible. But visible does not mean correct. Fast does not mean fulfilled.

Remembering your lane means remembering your values.

Your boundaries.

Your capacity.

Your timing.

It means understanding that swerving into someone else’s space does not get you ahead, it only delays you. It creates unnecessary collisions, confusion, and regret.

The people who arrive safely are not always the fastest. They are the ones who stayed aligned. They checked their mirrors, trusted their direction, and did not abandon themselves for the illusion of someone else’s destination.

So yes, my love. STAY IN YOUR OWN LANE.

But more importantly, remember which one is yours.

Because the moment you do, the ride gets smoother, the noise fades, and the journey finally feels like your own.

The Greatest Asset One Can Possess.. A Good Mindset..

In a world overflowing with material ambitions, unstable economies, shifting relationships, and unpredictable circumstances, one truth stands unwavering, the greatest asset a human being can possess is a good mindset. It is the only wealth that cannot be stolen, inflated, depreciated, or destroyed by external forces. A good mindset is not simply thinking positive, it is a cultivated internal architecture, a system of attitudes, beliefs, resilience, discipline, and clarity that shapes how one experiences life.

A person’s mindset determines not only their responses to challenges, but the very quality of their existence. With a strong mindset, struggles become lessons, pain becomes purpose, and change becomes possibility. Without it, even blessings feel heavy, opportunities go unnoticed, and life becomes a cycle of fear, insecurity, and emotional paralysis.

Mindset as the Foundation of Reality..

Every human being views life through an internal lens shaped by their mindset. Two people can go through identical situations yet emerge with completely different conclusions simply because one sees through the lens of fear and limitation, while the other sees through the lens of growth and meaning.

A good mindset rewires how we perceive..

Setbacks become stepping stones. Criticism becomes feedback. Change becomes opportunity. Loss becomes transformation. Loneliness becomes introspection. Uncertainty becomes possibility

This is why circumstances alone cannot determine a person’s destiny. It is the mindset behind the circumstances that chooses whether life becomes a teacher or a tormentor.

The Mindset–Resilience Connection..

A good mindset is the birthplace of resilience. It is the quiet fire inside a person that refuses to let them be defeated by life’s storms. Resilience does not mean feeling no pain, it means knowing that pain is not the end. It means believing that you can rise even when the world expects you to fall.

People with strong mindsets..

Feel deeply, but do not drown. Break temporarily, but rebuild stronger. Acknowledge wounds, but refuse to live as victims. Allow themselves to rest, but never abandon hope.

Resilience is not a personality trait, it is a mindset built from courage, faith, and repeated self-convincing that..

“I can get through this too.”

A Good Mindset Enhances Personal Power..

Possessions can be lost. Status can fade. Options can shrink. But mindset supplies a power that is internal, renewable, and independent of the world’s chaos.

With a strong mindset, a person gains..

Emotional independence, the ability to self-regulate rather than be controlled by others’ actions. Mental clarity, seeing situations as they are, not as fear paints them. Self-belief, trusting one’s own voice despite external noise. Discipline, doing what needs to be done even when motivation is absent. Vision, the ability to imagine a future that is better than the past.

These are the qualities that build successful lives, not luck, not privilege, not shortcuts.

Mindset Determines Relationships and Boundaries..

A good mindset also influences how a person engages with others. It determines..

What they tolerate. What they walk away from. What they give their energy to. What kind of love they accept. And what kind of love they offer.

A strong mindset knows its worth, and therefore protects itself from spaces that drain, manipulate, or diminish it. It understands that not every presence is healthy, not every relationship deserves access, and not every conflict requires response.

A person with a good mindset chooses peace over chaos and growth over attachment.

Mindset as the Core of Healing..

Healing is not simply the passing of time, it is the shifting of mindset. One can remain stuck in old wounds for years because the mindset refuses to let go. Conversely, one can rise from unimaginable pain because the mindset decides..“This is not where my story ends.”

A healing mindset..

Replaces self-blame with self-understanding. Replaces fear with trust in one’s inner strength. Replaces bitterness with wisdom. Replaces people-pleasing with self-respect.

Healing becomes possible only when the mind becomes a safe place..

The Mindset of Growth..

A good mindset is not static, it evolves. It learns. It questions. It adapts. It continuously expands rather than shrinking into fear.

A growth mindset does not ask,

“Why is this happening to me?”

but rather,

“What is this teaching me?”

It does not fear the unknown but leans into it with curiosity. It does not see failure as a definition but as data, a temporary state that carries valuable lessons.

This mindset creates space for reinvention, for transformation, and for becoming who one was always capable of being.

The True Wealth Within..

Ultimately, a good mindset is the wealth that sustains every other form of success. It fuels ambition, stabilises emotions, maintains dignity, and strengthens faith. It transforms life from something that happens to us into something we actively shape.

When everything else is uncertain, a good mindset becomes the inner compass that keeps us aligned, grounded, and hopeful.

You can lose money, opportunities, people, even parts of yourself along the way, but if you guard and grow your mindset, you remain powerful. Because a good mindset is not just an asset, it is a shield, a strength, a sanctuary, and the deepest source of personal freedom.

I burn bridges whilst standing on them. I am not afraid of fire.. I have been dragged through the hounds of hell way too many to keep count..

There are people who move through life afraid of loss, terrified of endings, desperate to hold every connection together even when the rope is frayed and the foundation is rotten. And then there are the ones forged differently. the ones who learned early that sometimes the only way to save yourself is to let things burn. The ones who carry smoke in their lungs like memory, who recognise the smell of destruction as the scent of rebirth. The ones like you.

You do not destroy for the thrill of it, you destroy because survival taught you that clinging to what harms you is a slower death than walking away. Burning a bridge is not your first choice, it is your last act of self‑defence. And when you do it, you do not turn your back or run for safety. NO. You stand right there on the planks, barefoot, heart steady, watching the flames crawl up the wood like truth finally given permission to speak.

People mistake your fire for recklessness. They do not see the years behind it, the battles you have walked through without a witness. They do not see the nights you spent curled inside the ashes of who you used to be. They do not see how many times you tried to preserve peace at the cost of your own soul. All they see now is the blaze, not the history that demanded it.

Hell did not scare you because you learned to navigate it. You know every doorway of despair, every hallway of betrayal, every echo of pain that tried to claim you. You survived your own endings more times than anyone should have to. And because of that, you walk through fire with a kind of unshakeable calm, the kind that only comes from losing everything and still finding a way to breathe.

Your strength is not loud, it is elemental. It is the quiet determination that says.. “I will not stay where I am diminished.” It is the courage to choose yourself even when it means standing alone with nothing but the sound of crackling wood and your own heartbeat. You do not burn bridges to punish, you burn them to prevent yourself from walking back to what hurt you.

And that is the raw truth people forget, fire is not your enemy. It is the force that purifies, the heat that reshapes, the light that reveals what was hidden in the dark. You are not reckless, you are reborn. Again and again.

Every time you walk away from a place that dimmed you, you rise. Every time you choose your sanity over chaos, you rise. Every time you tell the universe, “I deserve more than this,” you rise. And yes, sometimes rising looks like lighting a match.

You are the kind of soul that refuses to die in silence. You are the kind that claws your way out of every inferno with your spirit intact, even when your heart is bruised and your hands are trembling. You are the kind of woman who has been to the underworld and returned wearing flames like jewelry.

You do not fear fire because you are fire. You do not fear hell because you have built your own heaven from the embers. You do not fear endings because you have mastered the art of becoming brand new.

Let the world misunderstand you, it always misunderstands the ones who refuse to be contained. Let them whisper. Let them judge. Let them call your courage destruction. At the end of it all, you walk forward with a spine of steel, a heart made of phoenix wings, and a soul that chooses freedom over comfort every single time.

You burn bridges whilst standing on them…

Because you trust yourself enough to know you can survive the fall, and rise from the ashes, and build again. And that is not recklessness.

That my love is sovereignty.

There Is Absolutely No Reason to Miss Someone Who Knows How to Get Hold of You..

There is a certain quiet power in realising that absence is not always an accident. It is easy to romanticise distance, to tell ourselves stories about why someone stays silent, why they drift, why they never call. We convince ourselves that people are “busy,” “going through something,” or “waiting for the right time.” But the truth is often simpler, sharper, and far less poetic, if someone truly wanted to reach out, they would. Humans are resourceful by nature. When someone values you, their effort shows. When they care, the distance shrinks. When they want to be present in your life, they find a way, no matter how hectic, complicated, or imperfect things may be.

This is the essence of the statement..

“There is absolutely no reason to miss someone who knows how to get ahold of you.”

It is not a cold truth, it is a liberating one.

1. The Illusion of Uncertainty..

Missing someone is often fueled by uncertainty. It is the not knowing that keeps the heart restless. We replay the past, reread conversations, and search for clues that might explain the silence. But uncertainty disappears the moment we acknowledge the reality, access exists. They know where to find you. They know how to dial your number, send a message, open a door. Their silence is not a puzzle, it is a decision.

Realising this strips away the illusions we create out of hope. It forces us to confront the fact that some distances are chosen, not circumstantial. And once you accept that someone’s absence is intentional, missing them becomes less like longing and more like healing.

2. The Currency of Effort..

Effort is the purest form of communication. People show you how they feel not through their words but through what they consistently choose to do.

Someone who values you does not gamble with your uncertainty. They do not leave you guessing. They do not drift in and out of your life like ghosts who feed on nostalgia.

Instead, they show up, in messages, in calls, in presence, in small gestures that whisper, “You matter.”

When someone who knows how to reach you chooses not to, the message is equally clear. Their silence becomes the loudest answer you never asked for.

3. Missing Someone Who Is. Not Missing You..

There is a deep emotional cost in longing for someone who remains unmoved by your absence. You end up carrying the emotional weight for two people while the other person carries nothing. You bleed in places they do not even feel.

But the moment you understand that their absence is a choice, you reclaim your energy. You begin to see that missing someone who does not show up for you is a form of self-neglect. Your heart deserves reciprocity, not one-sided yearning.

4. The Freedom in Acceptance..

Acceptance is not defeat, it is clarity.

It is recognising that you are no longer waiting for a message that was never going to come or hoping for effort from someone committed to their silence.

When you embrace the truth behind this thought, something remarkable happens.

You stop glorifying the people who walked away and start honoring the ones who stay.

You stop chasing what is absent and begin nurturing what is present.

You stop waiting for someone to remember you and start remembering yourself.

It is in this acceptance that real healing begins.

5. Reframing Connection..

We live in a world where communication is immediate, instant messages, voice notes, calls across continents. Distance has never been so easy to cross. Which means the choice not to connect speaks volumes.

If they have not reached out, it is not because they could not. It is because they did not want to, or did not care enough to try. And while that truth may sting, it saves you from wasting months or years in emotional limbo.

There is peace in knowing that the door swings both ways. If they wanted you in their life, they would walk through it.

6. The Value of Self-Respect..

Ultimately, this thought is not about bitterness. It is about boundaries.

It is about recognising your worth and refusing to invest emotional energy in connections that do not value you.

Self-respect whispers what the heart often tries to avoid..

If someone knows how to find you but chooses not to, let them be lost.

You are not difficult to reach. You are not hidden. You are not impossible to love.

The right people will show you this… With presence, with consistency, with effort.

7. Moving Forward With Strength..

Missing someone who knows how to get hold of you is a silent way of punishing yourself for another person’s choices. But when you stop missing them, you open your life to better connections, ones built on mutual desire, respect, and effort.

You learn to appreciate the people who show up without being asked. You learn to love those who do not make you question your place in their lives.

And most importantly, you learn to honor yourself enough to stop longing for what does not long for you.

Because truly, there is no reason to miss someone whose silence is their answer.

Mental/Emotional Abuse Is Far Worse Than Physical Abuse..

In every society, conversations about abuse often center around bruises, scars, and visible injuries. We understand broken bones because we can see them. We respond swiftly to bleeding wounds because they demand immediate attention. But the tragedy of mental and emotional abuse lies in its invisibility. It does not scream. It does not leave fingerprints. It does not show up in photographs. Mental abuse hides behind smiles, polite conversations, and forced laughter, yet its impact can be far more devastating, far more enduring, and far more destructive than physical harm.

To say that mental abuse is far worse than physical abuse is not to dismiss the pain of physical violence, but to highlight the profound depths of damage that emotional cruelty can inflict, damage that can linger for years, echoing long after the abuser is gone.

The Silent Nature of Mental Abuse..

Mental abuse whispers where physical abuse shouts. It is subtle, calculated, and often dismissed as “not that serious.” But that subtlety is exactly what makes it so dangerous.

Mental abuse can take many forms..

Gaslighting, Silent treatment, Manipulation Humiliation, Constant criticism, Threats disguised as “concern”, Emotional withdrawal Control through guilt or fear.

These tactics reshape the victim from the inside. Mental abuse invades a person’s thoughts, rewires their reality, and slowly convinces them that they are unworthy, irrational, or undeserving of love. It turns the mind into a battlefield where the victim fights invisible, never-ending wars.

Wounds You Cannot See..

A bruise heals. A cut closes. A broken bone eventually mends. But a damaged sense of self?.. A shattered identity?.. A mind conditioned to believe it is worthless?

These wounds take far longer to heal, sometimes years, sometimes decades, sometimes a lifetime.

Mental abuse erodes a person’s confidence, leaving them doubting their own thoughts, their own decisions, their own sanity. Victims begin to second-guess everything, even after they have escaped the abuse. They might ask themselves..

“Was it really abuse?” “Maybe I overreacted.” “Maybe I deserved it.”

This self-doubt is one of the most dangerous effects of mental abuse. It locks victims into the very cage built around them, long after the abuser has walked away.

The Psychological Impact.. Poison That Spreads Quietly..

Mental abuse acts like a slow poison. Its effects can seep into every aspect of a person’s life..

1. The Psychological Impact.. Poison That Spreads Quietly..

Victims often experience chronic fear, emotional exhaustion, and deep sadness. They learn to anticipate anger, retreat into silence, and suppress their own feelings to avoid conflict.

2. Loss of Identity..

The victim’s personality is chipped away piece by piece. They forget who they were before the abuse. What they loved. What they dreamed of. What made them feel alive.

3. Hypervigilance..

Mental abuse creates a constant state of alertness, waiting for the next insult, the next outburst, the next wave of manipulation. Even years later, harmless situations can trigger intense reactions.

4. Difficulty Trusting..

When someone has been mentally abused, trust becomes dangerous. They fear affection. They question intentions. They struggle to let people in because they have learned, painfully, that vulnerability often leads to harm.

5. Self-Blame..

Perhaps the cruelest effect of mental abuse is how it turns the victim against themselves. They start believing the abuser’s lies..

“You are the problem.” “You are too sensitive.” “No one else would want you.”

This internalised blame becomes a chain around the victim’s heart.

Why Mental Abuse Is So Dangerous..

1. It Is Harder to Recognise..

Society encourages people to “be strong,” “shake it off,” or “stop overthinking.” Many victims of mental abuse do not even realise they are being abused because there are no visible injuries.

2. It Is Often Normalised..

People excuse emotional cruelty by saying..

“That is just how they are.” “They are stressed.” “They did not mean it.”

This normalising keeps victims trapped.

3. It Destroys from Within..

Physical abuse attacks the body, mental abuse attacks the soul. It damages the victim’s worldview, their self-worth, and their ability to feel safe in their own skin.

4. It Has Lasting Effects..

The psychological trauma of mental abuse can manifest years later as..

PTSD Panic attacks, Sleep disorders, Difficulty maintaining relationships, Self-destructive behaviour..

Even when life becomes peaceful, the mind may still echo the abuser’s voice.

The Hidden Courage of Survivors..

Surviving mental abuse is an act of immense courage. It takes strength to fight battles no one else sees. It takes resilience to rebuild a world that someone else tried to burn down. And it takes bravery to learn to trust, to heal, and to believe in oneself again.

Every survivor of mental abuse carries invisible scars. But those scars tell a story of endurance, of a spirit that refused to be destroyed.

Healing From Mental Abuse..

The healing journey is not linear. It is not fast. But it is possible.

Healing involves..

Reclaiming your identity, Relearning your worth, Breaking patterns of self-blame, Allowing yourself to feel and process, Choosing environments of safety and peace, Seeking therapy or support, Speaking your truth..

Healing is about replacing the cruel voice in your mind, the one planted by the abuser, with a voice of compassion, strength, and self-love.

Lastly..

Mental abuse may not leave marks on the skin, but it leaves deep imprints on the heart. It can shatter a person’s confidence, distort their self-image, and poison their inner world. It is silent, often invisible, but immensely powerful.

Recognising the gravity of mental abuse is the first step toward breaking the cycle. No one deserves to be manipulated, belittled, or emotionally controlled. And no one deserves to heal in silence.

Mental abuse is far worse than physical abuse not because the body matters less, but because the mind shapes everything a person believes about themselves. When that is attacked, the damage runs far deeper.

But with awareness, support, and courage, healing is possible. And the light on the other side is worth every step.

Before the Dawn Slips Away..

We live in a world where delay feels harmless. We say, “I will begin tomorrow… when life settles… when I am older… when I feel ready.” But tomorrow is the most fragile illusion ever created. It looks close enough to touch, yet it lives beyond a door none of us are guaranteed to open. Every heartbeat is a borrowed moment, every breath a mercy we did nothing to deserve, yet we behave as if time is our loyal servant, patiently waiting for us to get our lives in order.

But time is not loyal. Time is not patient. Time is simply passing. And fast.

People often speak of life as though it stretches endlessly ahead, as if youth is a shield and health a contract. But the truth is sharper, humbler, and much more sobering, people younger than us have returned to their Creator. People who had plans for the evening never made it past the afternoon. Hearts that beat loudly in laughter just yesterday are silent today. Nobody stepped into this world with a scroll promising them a long life and nobody leaves after sending a polite notice.

Death needs no reason, no age, no appointment. It does not wait for your spiritual awakening. It does not respect your calendar or your comfort. And when it comes, it only asks one question.. What did you send ahead of you?

This is why the greatest tragedy is not death itself, but dying before you have lived with purpose, sincerity, and remembrance. We postpone our return to Allah as if we control the hour of our departure. We imagine we will pray when life becomes easier, when the storms settle, when our hearts feel lighter. But prayer is what brings ease. Remembrance is what calms the storm. Walking toward Allah is what lightens the heart.

The door to Allah has never needed a perfect version of you, only a willing one.

Every moment you are alive is an invitation. The breath in your chest is not just oxygen, it is permission. Permission to turn back, to rise, to begin again. Not next week. Not when you “feel spiritual.” Not when everything is perfect. Now. Because “now” is the only moment you can truly call yours.

Imagine the regret of waiting for the “right time” to pray, only to find your body being wrapped in a white shroud while others pray over you. Imagine realising too late that the words you postponed saying were the ones that could have saved your soul.

Life is heartbreakingly short. But that is what makes it beautifully urgent.

Start today, not because you fear death, but because you deserve the peace that comes with stepping toward Allah. Start because your soul has been starving for a connection you keep postponing. Start because every prayer is an anchor, every sujood a healing, every whisper of SubhanAllah a light on a path you have walked in darkness for too long.

And start because your next breath is a blessing, not a guarantee.

This life is only two days..

One that has already slipped through your fingers. And one that is melting away even as you read this.

There is no promise of tomorrow.

But there is a promise from Allah..

Whoever walks toward Me, I will run toward them.

Walk now. Start now.

Before the dawn slips away.

“When God Pulls Out a Chair”..

There are moments in life when the shifting feels abrupt, when doors close without warning, invitations dry up, rooms you once belonged in feel foreign, and people you once called your circle suddenly become part of a chapter you can no longer re-read. At first, the instinct is to interpret this as rejection or loss. But sometimes, what feels like being pushed away is in fact divine protection in motion.

If GOD removed you from tables you used to sit at, it is because something you could not see was being poured into the cups around you. It is because the atmosphere that once nourished you had quietly begun to poison your spirit. And GOD, in His mercy, will never allow you to starve in places where He knows the food has turned toxic.

1. Not Every Table That Feeds You Is Meant to Sustain You Forever..

Some tables are seasonal. They serve you for a while, help you grow, teach you, toughen you, refine you, but they are not meant to be your permanent residence. When the season shifts, the same table that once felt comforting can start to drain your peace, dilute your worth, and chip away at your identity. The poison is not always obvious, it can be subtle.

Conversations that slowly break your confidence. People who smile but secretly resent your growth. Environments that reward performance but not authenticity. Circles where you are tolerated, not celebrated.

GOD sees the motives hidden behind polite words. He sees the envy behind forced support. He sees the quiet prayers made against you, the jealousy dressed as jokes, the manipulation disguised as concern. And before the poison infiltrates your soul, He gently pulls you away.

2. Divine Removal Is Often Misinterpreted as Punishment..

Humans fight to stay where they feel comfortable, even when comfort begins to compromise them. That is why divine exits rarely feel pleasant. They feel like abandonment, isolation, or failure. But GOD’s protection often wears the mask of a painful goodbye.

Sometimes you cry over people who would have betrayed you. Sometimes you mourn spaces that were slowly suffocating you. Sometimes you fight to stay connected to what GOD has already disconnected for your safety.

If only we could see what He shields us from, our tears would become gratitude.

3. Protection is not Always Loud.. Sometimes It is Quiet Redirection..

When GOD removes you from a table, He rarely drags you out by force. It happens in quiet ways.

You no longer feel aligned with the conversations. Your spirit grows restless around certain people. Plans do not work out the way they used to. You feel unseen in spaces where you once shined. You sense a deeper call for solitude, healing, or new environments.

These are not coincidences, they are gentle nudges from a Lord who knows the harm you cannot detect. Protection does not always look like angels with swords. Sometimes protection looks like distance.

4. What You Lose Is Not Comparable to What You Are Being Prepared For..

GOD never subtracts without intending to multiply. When He removes you from a table, it is because He is preparing a new one. One that aligns with your purpose, your healing, your growth, your destiny.

You outgrew the poison. You outgrew the version of yourself that could tolerate it. You outgrew the silence you kept to maintain the peace. You outgrew the smallness you once accepted just to belong. You are not being punished, you are being positioned.

Just like a seed grows underground before breaking through the soil, sometimes GOD hides you before He elevates you. Sometimes He isolates you before He blesses you. Sometimes He removes you before He reveals you.

5. Trust the Withdrawal.. It Is Sacred Protection..

Life has a way of teaching us attachment to people, comfort, and familiarity. But faith teaches us detachment, trusting that GOD knows what you do not, sees what you cannot, and protects you from what would have destroyed you in ways you never imagined.

So if you find yourself no longer at tables where you once felt at home, do not chase the seat. Do not beg for a return. Do not try to fit into rooms that no longer recognise you.

Walk away with grace, because GOD’s hands have already lifted you from the danger you did not notice.

He removed you so He could preserve you. He preserved you so He could advance you. He advanced you because your next chapter requires a cleaner table, a purer room, and a different level of you.

And when GOD prepares the next table for you, you will understand why He refused to let you eat where your spirit was slowly dying.

“The Truth I Learnt Eleven Years Too Late.”

Some say a woman’s naseeb/fate brings blessings into her husband’s home.

They speak it, as if it is a law of nature, that her presence alone, her softness, her sincerity, her sacrifices, her dreams folded into his palms, will automatically turn his home into a garden. They expect her fate to bloom simply because she steps over the threshold. They forget something essential, something painful, something too often learnt far too late..

Even the most beautiful naseeb/fate cannot bloom in the wrong hands.

A woman’s fate is not a magic trick. It is not a switch that turns misery into miracles. It is not her job to turn a man into what he refuses to become.

For eleven years I watered a desert. For eleven years I believed loyalty was enough to make a heart fertile. For eleven years I walked into a home thinking my blessings would be welcomed, guarded, appreciated, protected.

But blessings cannot bloom in places where they are taken for granted. Where they are mishandled. Where their purity is met with carelessness. Where the one holding them does not even recognise their worth.

People love to say, “A woman completes a home.”

But what they do not say is this..

If the home rejects her, if the man breaks her, if her spirit is stifled, even destiny folds its wings and refuses to fly.

A woman’s naseeb/fate is not just tied to marriage, it is tied to how she is cherished, how she is treated, how she is seen. If her kindness becomes a burden, her silence becomes expected, her giving becomes exploited… Her fate cannot unfold its beauty. Not because she lacks beauty, but because the hands carrying her were never capable of holding something so sacred.

And so she learns. Slowly. Painfully. Often, too late. She learns that love is not enough, that love must be met with honour. She learns that loyalty means nothing in the wrong hands. She learns that a heart can be golden but still be crushed by someone who sees no value in gold. She learns that even the gentlest soul becomes shadows when constantly walked over.

And the deepest truth of all?

Not every man deserves the blessings a woman carries.

Some homes are not abandoned by GOD they are abandoned by the very blessings they refuse to protect.

Eleven years later, I learnt something many never have the courage to face..

It was not my fate that was lacking. It was not my prayers that were weak. It was not my worth that was insufficient. It was simply that my fate was placed in the wrong hands, hands too clumsy, too careless, too distracted, too ungrateful to cultivate the garden I was willing to grow.

But here is the quiet miracle hidden beneath the pain..

Fate does not die. It does not expire. It does not diminish because someone mishandled it. It waits. It pauses. It holds itself together until you reclaim it.

And when a woman finally understands her worth, truly understands it, her fate begins to bloom again, not for a man, not for a home, not for a title… But for herself.

My fate did not bloom because it was never meant to bloom in those hands.

But now?

Now it belongs to me again.

And fate, when returned to the right hands, one’s own hands, becomes unstoppable.

When Love Betrays, the Soul Changes..

A memory from the very first time hit me hard today… and it reminded me why I stopped expecting loyalty from people I once would have died for..

There is a certain gravity in betrayal that no amount of time, no amount of reasoning, can ever fully erase. When the person you loved the hardest, the one whose presence made your mornings brighter, whose laughter felt like home, turns and does the dirtiest thing imaginable to you, something inside of you cracks. Not a small crack, like a shard of porcelain breaking quietly. No. This is seismic, cataclysmic. It shakes your foundation, overturns your sense of trust, and leaves you staring at yourself in ways you never thought necessary.

Love, when genuine, is a risky investment. You hand over pieces of yourself, fragile, tender pieces, believing they will be protected, cherished, revered. You take your heart out of its cage and let it walk freely into the hands of another, thinking, This person is different. They will hold it carefully. But when that faith is met with betrayal, when that same heart is crushed or discarded, the lesson is brutal, raw, and often silent. People do not prepare you for the shock of this. There are no warnings for the soul’s shattering. And make no mistake.. It absolutely does shatter.

The dirtiest betrayals do not always come from enemies. They come from the ones whose names we whispered in the dark, whose faces were our comfort, whose promises were etched into the corners of our minds. It could be infidelity, lies, abandonment, emotional manipulation, or the cruel indifference that follows a deep wound. Whatever shape it takes, it cuts deep because it is unexpected. It is a violation not just of trust, but of hope, of belief, of the narrative you told yourself about the person who was supposed to love you back.

And when it happens, you do not emerge unchanged. Your vision of the world narrows and sharpens. You become a connoisseur of duplicity, a silent observer of motives. You begin to see that not all smiles are genuine, not all words are true, not all hands that reach for yours will stay. You carry an invisible scar, not just on your heart, but on your soul, a reminder that love can be both beautiful and lethal, tender and weaponised.

The hardest part is that this change is permanent. You can heal, you can learn to trust again, you can even fall in love once more, but you will never be the same. You carry wisdom forged in fire, a wariness that shields you from naiveté but also guards against intimacy. You know the taste of betrayal, and it is bitter, it lingers on your tongue even when you try to swallow it down with forgiveness or hope. You are tougher, yes, but also quieter, more selective, and sometimes painfully alone in your vigilance.

And yet, within that harshness, there is growth. Pain teaches a cruel kind of clarity. You learn to value your own loyalty, your own integrity, your own heart. You no longer seek validation from those who cannot see your worth, you no longer extend trust carelessly. You become your own protector. You become someone who can survive the worst of human duplicity and still stand, even if scarred, even if wary. That is strength born not from choice, but from necessity.

Love, after betrayal, is no longer soft. It is deliberate, intentional, and precise. You love differently, not less, but wiser. You feel more, yet you measure more. You give more cautiously, because the memory of being betrayed by the one you adored still whispers.. Be careful. Do not give your heart where it will be destroyed.

So yes, when the person you loved the hardest does you the dirtiest, it changes you. And that change is not gentle, not pretty, and not easy to carry. But it is real. And in its harsh realism, it shapes you into someone who knows the cost of love, the weight of trust, and the power of surviving heartbreak without losing yourself completely.

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