Tag: karma

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..

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.

“It Will Be What God Says”..

There came a point in my journey where I had to quietly, but firmly, distance myself from “it is what it is” people. You know the kind, those who take every setback, every disappointment, every heartbreak and simply shrug it off with defeat disguised as acceptance. But let us be real now, that phrase is not peace, it is surrender. It is the sound of giving up before the battle has even begun. And I am not built for surrender. I do not walk with a spirit of defeat. I walk with a spirit of faith.

Yes, life be lifing..

I will not deny that. Storms come. Bills pile up. People switch up. The weight of it all can sometimes feel unbearable. But here is the difference between me and the .. “it is what it is” .. crowd, I do not let life’s chaos define my destiny. I do not let what is happening around me dictate what GOD has already promised me.

When you say “it is what it is,” you are giving circumstances the final word. You are surrendering authority to a situation that was never meant to have power over you. But see, I know better now. I know my GOD has the last word, and when GOD speaks, everything else must bow.

That means I can look at a season of struggle and still say, “This is not the end, this is the setup.” I can stare at a closed door and whisper, “This is not rejection, this is redirection.” I can face the very thing someone else calls permanent and declare..

“No babe, that is temporary, because my GOD has already spoken.”

You see, I am not just an “it is what it is” woman. I am an “it will be what GOD says” woman. And that right there? That is a game changer. That means my battles are already won before I even step onto the battlefield. That means my struggles do not define me, GOD’s promises do. That means when the ground shakes and the walls tremble..

I do not crumble.. I praise.

Because faith does not wait for proof. Faith is the proof.

So when life tells me to give up, I remind it, who my LORD is. When fear whispers, “This is too much,” I whisper back, “Maybe for me, but not for my GOD.” When the enemy tries to convince me that I have reached the end of my story, I flip the page, because my AUTHOR does not write unfinished chapters.

I had to learn that protecting my faith meant protecting my space. I could not keep sitting at tables with people who glorify defeat and call it realism. I could not keep shrinking my hope just to make others comfortable in their doubt. I had to create distance, not out of pride, but out of preservation. Because peace is holy ground, and not everyone can stand where faith is still fighting.

I am done surrounding myself with people who settle for what is. I am called to walk with those who believe in what will be. I am drawn to souls who do not panic when the plan changes, because they trust that GOD’s purpose never does.

And you know what?

I have realised that every “NO” that broke me was really a “NOT YET” that built me. Every delay was divine. Every detour was direction. Every tear had purpose.

So, no.. I do not do “it is what it is.”

Not anymore.

Because my GOD is not finished with me yet.

Because my story is still being written.

Because my faith has outgrown my fear.

And as long as GOD is still speaking over my life, I will never lower my faith to match someone else’s doubt. I will stand tall, bold, and unshaken, anchored in grace, covered in mercy, and fueled by promises that cannot fail.

So let them say “it is what it is.”

I will keep saying..

IT WILL BE WHAT GOD SAYS..

Because that is not denial, that is destiny.

And I am walking straight into it, head held high with a heart full of faith, and oceans of trust in the ALL-KNOWING 🕊️

The Boomerang Effect..

They say karma keeps receipts, but I call it the Boomerang Effect.

Because no matter how far you throw something, words, actions, intentions, it finds its way back. The universe has this uncanny way of handing you exactly what you give, only amplified. Throw love, and it comes back in abundance. Throw pain, and life makes sure you taste your own medicine.

People think they can get away with cruelty just because consequences do not come knocking immediately. But the Boomerang Effect has patience. It waits. It watches. And when it hits, it hits right where it hurts, not out of revenge, but out of balance.

You cannot escape the weight of what you send out. The universe does not forget, it just recalibrates. So be mindful of the energy you project, because the same force that can heal can also haunt.

It is funny how people will throw shade and think they are standing in the light. How they will speak poison and expect sweetness in return. But life does not play favourites, it mirrors. You insult, you get insulted. You betray, you get betrayed. You fake care, and one day you will beg for the real thing and find it nowhere in sight. That is not punishment, that is poetic justice.

We live in a world where people toss negativity like confetti and then wonder why their life feels like a mess. Every time you throw hate, gossip, lies, or manipulation, you create a loop. And that loop does not break until it comes back to the sender. That is the part most people forget, the universe does not lose track of addresses. It delivers energy straight to the return sender, marked “exactly what you ordered.”

And when it does come back, it does not always look the same. Sometimes it shows up as the friend who ghosts you. The job you lose. The peace you cannot find. The love that walks away. The sleepless nights that make you replay every word you once said to break someone else. The Boomerang Effect does not always scream. Sometimes it whispers, “Remember this?”

It is not about being perfect, it is about being aware. Because energy is currency, and you are constantly spending it. Spend wisely. You cannot throw dirt and expect to bloom. You cannot pour poison and expect to taste peace. Life may be slow to respond, but trust me, it is never silent.

What you throw, grows. What you give, lives. The world does not forget your energy, it returns it with interest.

KARMA HAS NO MENU…

You made an enemy out of me, congratulations. You gave me a reason to rise. But remember this, you do not get to pick the weapon God chooses. And you will not like how He fights for the ones He loves.

There are people who mistake silence for weakness, smiles for submission, or scars for surrender. They size you up like a menu, choosing outrage as if it is a dish they ordered, then waiting politely for fate to serve them what they think is owed. They forget one blunt, brutal truth, karma has no menu. You do not get to customize the portion, you get served what you deserve.

Think of me as the storm you never saw coming, quiet at first, gathering wind in places only grief knows. I learned to hold my breath, count my steps, and fold my hurt into careful, sharp shapes. I learned to build cathedrals out of the small rebellions, a sentence written at dawn, a boundary set at dusk, a refusal made without apology. Those cathedrals were not fragile, they were sanctuaries with stained-glass windows that let the light in and the predators out.

You mistook my waiting for complacency. That is your mistake. Waiting is not passive, it is strategic. It is the slow, patient sharpening of an edge until the world finally feels it. God does not rush. He does not need to. He is slow as thunder and precise as a scalpel. When He moves for you, the movement is tidy and final, accounts are balanced, debts repaid, and masks come loose without an audience.

Let me be clear, this is not a prayer for vengeance dressed as poetry. It is a stubborn faith in cosmic balance and moral consequence. It is the recognition that cruelty boomerangs, betrayal blooms on its own poisonous vine, and the seed of every unjust action is fertile with inevitable return. You can plot, you can gloat, you can attempt to rearrange a life, but there are forces that will not be negotiated with. They answer only to truth.

God fighting for me looks nothing like what you expect. It does not always strike in lightning bolts or loud spectacle. Often it arrives as a quiet recalibration, opportunities coming to me when doors slammed on you, people discovering the truth of who you are while your lies fall apart in isolation, the safety you thought you might have eroding into a new vulnerability you never intended to face. It arrives as justice wearing the ordinary clothes of timing and consequence.

There is a deeper, crueler lesson that life hands out, sometimes the downfall is not a single, cinematic collapse. Sometimes it is the slow erosion of privilege, the quiet exposure of character, the gentle but relentless evaporation of support you took for granted. Karma can be subtle, a mirror placed where you cannot avoid it, a loneliness that was once someone else’s problem, a chain of small embarrassments that build into a pattern you can no longer pretend to ignore. The worst turns are not always headlines. They are the intimate, uncompromising rearrangements that force you to face what you did.

And yet, there is mercy threaded through vengeance. When GOD fights for you, He does more than punish the enemy, He redeems the battlefield. Broken things are mended into stronger forms. Lessons that felt like cruelty become the architecture of your armor. The people who laughed at you are often the first to notice the change, and they will squint, jealous and bewildered, at the quiet prosperity of someone they once dismissed.

Do not mistake my fierceness for malice. I do not relish the downfall of another. I only insist on my worth. I insist that harm done to me be seen, named, and accounted for. And if the accounting comes as consequence for you, know that I did not call it down. I simply stopped carrying your chaos as my burden. I stopped bargaining for your conscience. I closed the door, turned the key, and allowed the ledger to reopen with whoever, whatever, or however the universe settles scores.

This is a warning wrapped in a benediction, treat people like they are disposable and the world will eventually show you how durable they can become without you. Break someone’s trust and watch as your own safety becomes negotiable, not by me but by Fate. You will not like the quiet ways your steadiness unravels. The applause you expected at my undoing will be replaced by a hollow echo that only you can hear. That echo is the sound of karma setting the table without asking your preference.

There is, too, a fiercer intimacy in being protected. When the divine intercedes, it often uses the hands of strangers, the timing of coincidence, the tiny mercies that accumulate into a life reconfigured. It is not always dramatic, it is rarely indulgent. It is the exactness with which balance is restored when people finally see what you were worth all along. You will not like the way good fortune finds the steady and the wounded who refused to become bitter. You will not like the way your plans crumble while mine rearrange to become something truer.

So go on, make your enemies. Arrange your alliances like chess pieces and call it strategy. But remember that chess is played on a board you cannot see through. Pieces move by rules you did not write. The God who fights for me plays with a hand of inevitability. His plays are small, surgical, and mercilessly kind.

And when the day comes that your life tilts, when the comfortable things scatter like fragile glass, do not be surprised. Surprised is for people who assumed the universe owed them anonymity for their choices. You will be served what you served. Karma has no menu, but it always knows the order.

You made an enemy out of me, now watch how quietly GOD rearranges your life so that you never mistake grace for weakness again.