Tag: growth

Part Five.. The Strength Survivors Carry.. Turning Pain Into Purpose..

Celebrating the resilience, faith, and depth that emerge from surviving complex trauma.

Living with “Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder”, (C-PTSD) is not a linear path. It is a journey of navigating invisible battles, reconciling past pain, and learning to coexist with the echoes of trauma. Each moment of survival. Each heartbeat, each tear, each conscious step forward, is evidence of strength that often goes unseen.

By the time a survivor reaches this stage, they have not only endured hardship, they have transformed it into wisdom, empathy, and resilience. Trauma, while painful, shapes the heart in ways that few experiences can. It teaches sensitivity, compassion, and an ability to connect with others who are suffering.

The Power of Empathy and Emotional Depth.

Survivors of C-PTSD often feel deeply. They carry the emotions of others almost as if they were their own, because their experiences have attuned them to the fragility of the human soul. What some may see as overreaction or emotional intensity is actually a remarkable capacity to feel and understand.

Islam reminds us that empathy, compassion, and mercy are among the highest virtues. Survivors of trauma, by navigating the depths of their own pain, often embody these qualities naturally. Their hearts are vessels of understanding, patience, and love, fueled by experience, strengthened by faith.

Faith as a Guiding Light.

Faith is the invisible thread that has carried survivors through the darkest moments. It is faith that whispers during sleepless nights of fear and triggers, reminding them that Allah sees their struggle and honors their perseverance.

Faith does not erase the scars, but it transforms suffering into purposeful growth. Survivors learn that their pain is not meaningless, it is a teacher, shaping resilience, patience, and the ability to walk gently with others who suffer.

Reclaiming Life with Intentionality.

Healing reaches its most powerful stage when survivors begin to live intentionally, rather than merely endure. This involves..

Protecting emotional and physical boundaries. Creating safe spaces where the nervous system can finally relax. Pursuing meaningful connection. Surrounding oneself with understanding, compassionate individuals who validate their experiences. Engaging in spiritual practice. Dhikr, prayer, and reflection to anchor the soul and cultivate inner peace. Celebrating small victories. Acknowledging every step forward, no matter how subtle.

As progress through these actions, survivors reclaim agency over their lives. Trauma may have shaped them, but it does not define the limits of who they are or what they are capable of becoming.

Turning Pain Into Purpose.

The greatest transformation for survivors is realising that their lived experiences can become a source of guidance and support for others. The struggles they endured give them unique insight into suffering, healing, and faith. Sharing their story, supporting others, or simply embodying resilience in everyday life turns pain into a quiet, enduring purpose.

This is the paradox of surviving C-PTSD. The very wounds that could have broken them instead cultivate extraordinary strength, empathy, and wisdom.

Closing Reflection.

Survivors may carry scars that the world cannot see, but they also carry a strength that the world cannot take away. Their hearts remain tender, their spirits resilient, and their faith unwavering.

They have learned that healing is not perfection. It is persistence. It is patience. It is living fully, intentionally, and courageously despite the shadows of the past.

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 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..

“My Weapon of Choice Is GOD”..

There comes a point in a person’s life where strength, in its earthly sense, simply is not enough anymore. You discover that willpower fractures, logic fails, people disappear, and your own heart becomes a battlefield you never asked to fight on. It is in those raw places, the places where your soul feels stripped bare and trembling, that a deeper truth rises from the ruins..

My weapon of choice is God.

This is not a slogan. It is not a poetic line meant to sound brave. It is a declaration forged in pain, in surrender, in nights when sleep avoids you and faith is the only thing that holds your bones together.

When you say My weapon of choice is God, what you are really saying is,

“I no longer fight with my ego. I no longer fight with my tongue. I no longer fight with anger or revenge or the need to prove myself. I fight with the presence of the One who sees all.”

It takes a different kind of strength to reach that place, a strength that grows in silence, in tears, in sujood/prostration, in the invisible hours where only ALLAH knows the storms you are trying to survive.

When Life Becomes War, Faith Becomes Armour..

Life has a way of wounding a person in places the world cannot see. A betrayal here, a disappointment there, a door slammed shut, a heart shattered. You begin to understand why Allah says,

“And Allah is the Best of Protectors”

Because human protection is fragile, conditional, temporary. Human beings shield you until it becomes inconvenient.

GOD shields you because He loves you.

Choosing GOD as your weapon does not mean you no longer feel hurt. It means that even in the hurt, you remain guided. You remain anchored. The battlefield does not disappear, you simply walk onto it with a force greater than anything that stands against you.

Because when GOD is your weapon, your wounds may bleed, but they do not break you.

The Silent Power of Surrender..

Surrender is misunderstood. People think surrender means giving up, collapsing, becoming passive. But when you surrender to GOD, you are not kneeling to defeat, you are kneeling to the One who writes victories.

It is a different kind of courage to say,

“I do not know how to fix this. I do not know why this happened. But I trust the Author of my destiny.”

There is a divine power in handing the sword to the One who never misses a target. The One who knows every plot against you, every word spoken behind your back, every betrayal formed in silence.

People see situations from the outside.

ALLAH sees the unseen intentions, the hidden harms, the poison you never realised you were swallowing.

And so sometimes GOD fights battles by removing you, isolating you, delaying you, or redirecting you, not to punish you, but to protect you.

A Heart That Fights with GOD Never Loses..

When GOD becomes your weapon, battles start ending differently..

You stop begging people to understand you. You stop retaliating just to be heard. You stop defending your name to those committed to misunderstanding it. You stop losing sleep over what is already written. Your heart becomes quieter. Your feet become steadier. Your tears become a form of worship rather than a sign of weakness. And your victories, they become sweeter. Because you know you did not win through manipulation, deceit, noise, or force. You won through patience. Through faith. Through a type of resilience heaven recognises.

Strength Does Not Always Look Loud..

Sometimes GOD arms you with silence. A silence that confuses those who expect your retaliation. Sometimes He arms you with peace. A peace that unsettles those who planned your destruction. Sometimes He arms you with dignity. A dignity that stands taller than every lie spoken in your absence.

And sometimes, GOD arms you with loss. Loss that feels violent, unfair, agonising. But that loss becomes the fire that purifies you, the storm that humbles you, the lesson that changes you, the turning point that saves your soul.

The believer does not fight against the world. The believer fights above it.

The Truth in the Rawness..

It is raw and bleeding and that is exactly what makes this thought powerful. Because it comes from a place where the heart has fought enough battles to know one thing with absolute certainty,

Human weapons fail. Divine weapons never do.

When you choose GOD as your weapon, you are choosing clarity over confusion, purpose over pain, and direction over chaos. You are choosing a strength that does not need to shout. A strength that does not collapse when life throws another storm your way. A strength that whispers,

“I am not alone. I never was.” And so the declaration stands…

My weapon of choice is GOD.

Not because I am fearless, but because I refuse to fight alone. Not because I am strong, but because I know where strength truly comes from. Not because life has been gentle, but because GOD has been faithful.

This is not a battle cry. It is a promise to yourself..

That no matter who leaves, who hurts you, what fails, what collapses, GOD remains, GOD sees, GOD fights, GOD wins.

And with Him as your weapon, victory is not just possible. It is written.

The Silent Architects of Destiny..

There is an ancient truth that has echoed through every civilisation, every scripture, every wise mind that has ever walked the earth, you become like the people you stay close to. Human beings are naturally impressionable, we absorb energy, habits, values, and mindsets from those around us, often without noticing. We shape them, and they shape us back. Your friends are not just people who share your time, they are silent architects of your destiny.

The statement..

“Show me your friends and I will show you your future,”

Is not an exaggeration. It is a spiritual, emotional, and psychological law. If you want to know where a person is headed, you do not have to open their diary.. You only need to look at who they allow into their inner circle. Because the people you walk with influence the pace, direction, and quality of your journey.

The Power of Proximity..

Proximity is powerful. Spend enough time next to someone and you start to mirror them, their language, their behaviour, their outlook on life. Sit with warriors and you develop courage. Sit with victims and soon you inherit hopelessness. Sit with dreamers and you begin to imagine the impossible. Sit with gossipers and your heart becomes polluted. Sit with the disciplined, and you will soon find yourself hungry for growth.

You may believe that you choose your friends, but more often than not, your friends choose the future version of you.

If you surround yourself with people who treat life casually, you will become careless. If you surround yourself with people who carry themselves with honour, your character will rise to meet that standard. Your environment is not just influencing you, it is building you.

Friendship as a Mirror and a Warning..

Friends are mirrors. They reflect who you are and who you are becoming. If you look closely, you can read your future through them. Are they growing or stagnant? Are they bitter or healing? Are they grateful or entitled? Are they loyal or easily swayed?

A person who keeps friends who constantly complain will eventually learn the language of bitterness. A person who surrounds themselves with people who fear failure will soon stop taking risks. But one who chooses friends who push boundaries, challenge their comfort zone, and dare to evolve will rise, almost naturally, to a higher level of existence.

Your friends are not just your companions, they are warnings, blessings, or lessons.

The Spiritual Weight of Keeping the Right Company..

Every soul carries a certain atmosphere. Some people bring peace, others bring chaos. Some elevate your spirit, others drain it. Some are anchors, some are ladders.

In many spiritual traditions, keeping righteous, honest, and positive company is considered a form of worship, because it protects your own heart. The wrong friends do not just waste your time, they can corrupt your purpose. The right friends do not just keep you company, they nourish your soul.

The people in your life either help you become who GOD intended you to be… Or they pull you further away from it.

Friendships That Shape Your Future..

Think of the friends who inspire you. The ones who do not feel threatened by your growth. The ones who pray for you, support you, uplift you, and want to see you win. These are not ordinary people, these are divine gifts. These are the ones who will sharpen you, guide you back when you lose your way, and remind you of your worth when life tries to cheapen you.

And then there are the other kind, the ones who want you to stay small so they do not feel inadequate. The ones who drag you into drama because chaos is their comfort zone. The ones who celebrate your mistakes but fall silent when you succeed. These friendships are not harmless, they are dangerous. They delay your destiny.

Your future is too valuable to be shaped by people who have no vision for their own.

Choosing With Intention..

The truth is simple..

You do not rise above the company you keep, you rise with it. And you do not fall alone, you fall with your circle. This is why choosing your friends is one of the greatest acts of self-respect.

Choose people who challenge you to be better. Choose people whose presence feels like a blessing, not a burden. Choose people who have direction, purpose, and integrity. Choose people who make you feel safe being honest, not people who make you pretend. Choose people who talk about ideas, not people who talk about others.

Because the people you surround yourself with are a preview of the person you will become.

Lastly, Build a Future by Building a Circle..

Your destiny is connected to your environment. Your future is shaped by the companions you trust. You may not see the changes at first, but slowly, their habits become your habits, their mindset becomes your mindset, and their future becomes a mirror of your own.

So if you want a better future, look around you… Before you look ahead.

You are the company you keep. Show me your friends, and I will show you your future.

The Architecture Of The Mind..

They say wealth lies in gold, in property, in titles, and in the things you can count and display. But the truth is, the greatest treasure you will ever possess cannot be seen or touched, it lives quietly between your ears. Your mindset is the architecture of your life. It is the lens that shapes every experience, the voice that defines your limits, and the power that can rebuild your world even after it has fallen apart.

You can lose everything, the job, the relationship, the home, the comfort, but if your mindset stays strong, you can start again from scratch. Because it is not the fall that defines you, it is the way you think when you are down there. A defeated mind will surrender before the battle even begins. But a resilient one? It will rise, again and again, until victory feels inevitable.

Mindset is not about pretending everything is perfect, it is about knowing that even in imperfection, there is potential. It is the difference between saying..

“Why is this happening to me?” and “What is this teaching me?”

It is the ability to turn pain into wisdom, rejection into redirection, and failure into fuel.

The richest people in the world are not those with overflowing bank accounts, but those with minds that never stop growing. They understand that abundance starts in thought before it manifests in form. You can hand two people the same tools, one will build excuses, the other will build empires. The difference is not luck. It is mindset.

A strong mind is self-disciplined. It refuses to be a victim of circumstance. It sees opportunities where others see obstacles. It knows that gratitude multiplies blessings and that faith amplifies strength. This is why your mind must be guarded like a vault, because everything in your life will rise or fall based on how you think.

So, invest in your mindset. Feed it with faith, challenge, learning, and stillness. Protect it from negativity, comparison, and self-doubt. Because while the world can strip you of everything, it can never take away what is rooted in your thoughts. And when your mind is right, even the hardest season cannot break you, it only prepares you for the bloom that is coming next.

Too Busy Building to Be Bitter..

Let me be honest, jealousy is not about what another woman has. It is about what you are not doing. Jealousy does not come from her being ahead of you, it comes from you standing still. When you are not moving, when you are lost in hesitation, when your life feels like it is on pause, that is when comparison creeps in. You start scrolling, observing, analysing, and before you know it, you are measuring your worth against someone else’s highlight reel.

But here is the thing, when you are busy building, you do not have time for that. When your mind is occupied with purpose, with progress, with planning your next level, the noise of comparison becomes irrelevant. You stop caring about who posted what, who went shopping, who is on vacation, or who is flaunting something new. You are too focused on your own path. You are too locked in on becoming who you were meant to be.

People who are moving do not sit around watching others. They are too busy doing. They are too consumed by the grind, too motivated by growth, and too focused on the next move to waste energy on envy. The real difference between jealousy and peace is momentum. When you are moving, you do not look sideways, you look forward. You are not watching the competition, you are chasing your calling.

Jealousy thrives in stagnation. The moment you stop chasing your own goals, your mind starts finding someone else’s to compare to. The moment you lose direction, you start obsessing over someone else’s progress. But the woman who is locked into her vision? She does not have the time. She does not need validation, likes, or attention. Her silence is her focus. Her focus is her weapon.

So no.. I do not have the time to be jealous of another woman. I am too busy building my own life. Too busy stacking peace over drama. Too busy securing the bag, healing my mind, and protecting my energy. I am not scrolling to compare.. I am scrolling to learn. I am not sitting still waiting for miracles.. I am out there making moves, brick by brick.

You see, when you understand your worth, you stop watching others live theirs. When you are walking in purpose, your energy naturally detaches from envy. You begin to realise that every woman’s journey is her own, and yours is just as valid, just as powerful, and just as worthy of applause.

So let them post. Let them shine. Let them do whatever they do. You stay in your lane, focused, unbothered, and evolving. Because at the end of the day, the loudest woman is not the one showing off.. It is the one quietly becoming everything she prayed for.

“Forgive and Forget? Please.”

Forgive and forget?..

Haha please!

I am not GOD, and I definitely do not suffer from selective memory loss. I remember, darling. I archive. I keep receipts in high-definition mental folders with time-stamps and emotional impact ratings. I may not seek revenge, but best believe my mind is a walking surveillance camera, silent, observant, and brutally detailed.

People love to preach “forgive and forget” like it is a holy mantra. Meanwhile, I am over here, sipping my coffee, thinking, Forget what? The disrespect? The betrayal? The gaslighting?

Oh no, sweetheart, my memory is not built for amnesia. It is built for evolution. I do not dwell, I develop. I do not rage, I recalibrate. I do not plot revenge, I plot success.

See, forgiveness is divine, and I am just a beautifully flawed human with a memory that refuses to play dumb. My healing does not come from forgetting, it comes from remembering wisely. I have learnt that peace does not mean erasing the past, it means walking through it with grace and an upgraded mindset.

Call it petty if you want. I call it self-protection with style. I do not hold grudges. I hold data. And that data reminds me exactly how to move, who to trust, and where to never step again. Because while some people turn the other cheek, I simply turn the page.

My secret?

I dog-ear the page, just in case I need to revisit the lesson.

So no, I do not forget. I outgrow. I outsmart. I outshine. My memory is not a weakness, it is my intuition with perfect recall. I might laugh about it now, but best you believe every “haha” has a hidden footnote of wisdom.

Because at the end of the day, I do not forgive and forget.. I remember and prosper.

Self-Love Will Not Give You Butterflies.. It Will Give You Wings..

They told us that love was supposed to make our hearts race.

That it was supposed to make us nervous, breathless, “giddy” the kind of dizzy that makes you forget who you are for a while.

Butterflies, they called it. The flutter of excitement before the fall. But nobody told us that sometimes those butterflies die once the fantasy fades, that they were never meant to carry the weight of real love, especially the kind you owe yourself. Because self-love does not flutter. It does not tremble. It does not leave you lightheaded, it makes you light-hearted.

Self-love does not give you butterflies .. It gives you wings. And that is the difference between temporary highs and permanent healing.

See, butterflies make you feel something for a moment. Wings make you become something for a lifetime.

Butterflies belong to infatuation, wings belong to transformation. Butterflies make your stomach dance.

Wings make your soul soar.

Self-love is not the soft hum of validation or the adrenaline rush of being seen, it is the silent, stubborn decision to stay even when no one else does.

It is the moment you stop asking, “Am I enough?” and start saying, “I am enough.”

It is messy. It is unglamorous. It is waking up one morning and realizing the only person who can save you .. IS YOU.

It is choosing to pour back into the same cup the world kept sipping from and left empty. People often chase butterflies, those fleeting feelings that make them feel alive for a second.

But wings???

Wings are built slowly, painfully, and beautifully through boundaries, through healing, through saying NO when you have been taught to always say YES.

Wings grow in seasons of silence and solitude. They grow when you choose growth over guilt, peace over pressure, and authenticity over approval.

Butterflies do not survive storms.

But wings?

Wings were made to fly through them.

Self-love does not look like fireworks, it looks like discipline. It is not a spa day, it is shadow work. It is calling yourself out and comforting yourself right after.

It is taking accountability for the pain you allowed and still having grace for the version of you who did not know better.

When you start truly loving yourself, you will stop chasing butterflies because you will realise they were never your destiny .. They were just distractions.

You will stop waiting to be chosen and start choosing yourself. You will stop begging for closure and start building peace. You will stop mistaking excitement for alignment.

Because butterflies cannot take you where wings can. Butterflies live for the moment, wings live for the journey.

And babe, once you grow wings .. You do not go back to crawling. You will start flying in directions they told you did not exist. You will rise above the noise, glide past the opinions, and finally see your worth from a higher view.

Not everyone will recognize you when you do, that is okay. You were never meant to stay grounded for their comfort. Self-love is not supposed to make you nervous.

It is supposed to make you free.

So no, self-love will not give you butterflies. It will give you something far more permanent, it will give you wings. And once you learn how to use them…

You will never crave the ground again. 🕊️

What Alternative Career Paths Have I Considered or Am I Interested In?

What alternative career paths have you considered or are interested in?

Maybe my purpose was never meant to stay in one place, maybe it was meant to evolve with me.

I have always been the type of person who naturally leans toward helping people, the kind who listens, feels deeply, and somehow carries the weight of others without being asked. For a long time, I thought that was my calling, to be there for others, to guide, to counsel, to offer clarity in the chaos. It felt right… until life started testing the very strength I was using to hold everyone else together.

When anxiety, depression, and eventually a diagnosis of BPD, then Kahlers disease and the creeping up of that sly old cervical cancer, came into the picture, the path I once envisioned started to blur. You cannot pour from an empty cup, and at some point, I had to face that truth. I realized that to help others, I first needed to heal myself. You cannot be a lighthouse when your own light keeps flickering.

There is a humility in admitting that your dream version of helping others needs to shift shape. It is hard, because part of me still aches for that version of myself, the one who could listen endlessly, who had advice ready for every storm. But the older I get, the more I understand that sometimes the best advice you can give the world is to show what healing actually looks like. To model rest, self-awareness, and the courage to change direction when something no longer serves your peace.

But here is the thing about purpose, it evolves. Just because one road closes does not mean your story ends, sometimes it is just a divine redirection. Lately, I have found myself drawn to something completely new, teaching abroad. English has always been my comfort zone, my safe space, my first love, and maybe it is time I use that gift to step into a whole new world. The thought of teaching, traveling, and seeing life from a different corner of the globe excites me. It is unfamiliar, yes. It is intimidating, definitely. But it also feels like growth knocking on my door.

And maybe that is what I have been craving all along, growth that does not just look good on paper, but feels right in my soul. The idea of standing in a classroom somewhere far from home, sharing language, laughter, and lessons with students who see the world through completely different eyes, that thought lights a spark in me I have not felt in a long time.

Getting out of my shell and comfort zone will not be easy, I know that. I have lived in my own head long enough to know that fear does not vanish, it just becomes something you learn to move with. But maybe the most beautiful transformations come from doing the things that scare us the most. Maybe this new chapter is not about abandoning who I was, but about discovering who I could still become.

I am a starting to believe that purpose is not a fixed destination, it is a conversation between who you were and who you are still becoming. And right now, my heart is whispering, “Go. See. Try. Teach. Live.”