Rebuilding My Sanctuary

After 20 years of living, one of the most important things I’ve learned is to appreciate the constants in life — family, friends, traditions, my bed.

About 18 years ago I took one of the first big leaps in life from my bed to my crib. Since then and throughout 2 big moves in my life, I’ve slept in the same bed and it shows. It slants to the right, a victim of our merciless jumping. It creaks when sat on, as if to say “my backs just not what it used to be”. It’s lovingly decorated with stickers and nail polish testings. 

My bed’s perfectly worn in feeling has comforted my friends — old and new, secret crushes, immediate and distant relatives, babies, elderly, and all. This bed has warmed me on nights when I felt overwhelmingly loved and utterly alone.


If you haven’t figured it out by now, I’m hopelessly sentimental. I’ve tried to curve my over attachment to memories and the materiel things that remind me of those memories, but my bed has been the longest standing material object that I love, and by extension my entire room. 

My sanctuary, my safe space, the place where my friends and I spent our formative years, 6th grade to university, trying to figure out ourselves, our families, boys, how to balance chocolate and exercise, faith, and where we can happily fit in the world. 

If you can relate with the easily attached person I am, you understand why even though people in my life have left their mark and left, I wasn’t ready to give up the corners of my room that reminded me of them. 


But, for a few months, I couldn’t seem to get rid of this feeling that I was stuck in a crack in my timeline. Trying to keep the past close with one had and still reach out into the future with the other made my feet stationary. I felt cemented in my spot watching everyone else grow and succeed from the sidelines.

That’s when I got the urge to completely re-do my room. From freshly painted blue walls to all new furniture and even a new bed (my mom is really happy about this, she was so embarrassed that her 20 year old daughter was still sleeping in her childish twin sized bed), I’ve cultivated a new sanctuary for myself. A place that I feel mirrors who I am now and releases good energy guiding me to who I can and want to be. Change is good, ya’ll. Especially creative change and forward thinking changes in lifestyle. I’m excited for the memories and the epiphanies this new room will bring. I’m also beginning to realize that it’s okay to move away from the constants in life, it’s okay to jump out of your comfort zone and set up tent there :)

PS - If anyone 
has any cool DIY room decor ideas, send them my way! My old room was covered in pictures in posters & now my walls are all plain. I want to find an updated way to dress them up again?!

A few snapshots from Eid 2014 :)

Moment of Reflection: Desensitization & Crying

As the month Ramadan comes to the final 10 days, the most Holy days & nights, I believe it’s time for me to reflect. 

This Ramadan, it’s terrified me to admit that I might actually be desensitized. Which roughly is defined as a diminished response to a negative stimulus, after repeated exposure to it. I’ve already taken note that sometime in the past few months, I just stopped crying. I’ve noticed that the insults, self doubt, obstacles, even tv/movie scenes that would overwhelm me emotionally to eye burning tears, don’t do anything for me any more. 

I mistook it as strength when someone said something nasty or rude to me and I felt nothing. I thought it meant I was mentally stable when I stood in prayer calm and dry eyed, seemingly happy.

But all I’ve wanted to do this Ramadan is cry. I sense the stress in my life. I can taste the anxiety. I feel nostalgia and complex thoughts wanting to spill into my brain. Yet, somewhere along the way, I subconsciously trained myself to block everything out as a defense mechanism. 

I used to be embarrassed to be a crier, but now when I stand in Taraweeh there’s nothing I want more than to sob in this Holy Month in front of The Creator of The Universe and let everything go to Him. I want to feel overwhelmed with emotion. I want to be emotionally engaged with my life.

I’d never thought content would feel this bitter. While, I don’t wish to become broken as easily as before, I wish my spiritual and emotional body would realize numbness is NOT strength. And when I “turned off” my ability to feel sad, I shut down most of what makes my heart and soul tender and soft. 

My heart feels heavy with the weight of tears it’s waiting to burst out and let rain. I hope this Ramadan I can, at least, crack the shell that has coated my heart. I long to be soft again. 

"Crying does not indicate that you are weak. Since birth, it has always been a sign that you are alive"

Claiming My Dream

You wouldn’t realize how hard it is for me to start things, a flaw that’s probably my biggest obstacle. I disconnected my WiFi and isolated myself just so I could sit on my computer without getting distracted by the wondrous and consuming internet. All that’s resulted in is two pages of useless, broken paragraphs of my attempts to find the right “tone” for my first post. 

Seriously, even though this goes against my nature to obsess over how I start things, I’m just gonna give it to you straight this time. 

I love writing, I love story telling, I love comedy, I love public service, I love tv and film, I love anything that inspires introspection, I love psychology, and I want to be a part of all these things. I’ve always been afraid to claim my dreams. My dreams to write, to find wonder, to tell jokes, to create profound art, to inform, help people — more specifically to live a life of creative fulfillment. *Mix Ellen Degeneres and Mindy Kaling, I want to be that person.

What’s stopped me to claim my dream? Wavering self-confidence. Over investment in what everyone else thinks of me. Not knowing who I truly am. Fear of failing (but hey, the one good thing about not trying is that if you don’t try, you won’t fail…. am I right?? no, I am not right, bad advice).

So what’s changed? A year of a hard, and continuing, work focused on being my true self, most importantly, the best version of myself. My confidence has stopped feeling like a water bed that could pop any second and more like a nice fluffy display bed, sometimes I fall off but I always find a way to hop back on. The journey to my best self will never be over, but my shyness in claiming my dreams is over. 

So what’s with the blog? This is my space. My space to create original content. To write. To express. To story tell. To film. To display. To pretend to be funny. To share. To inform. To grow. To begin. Stick around to see what will happen. (Translate: I have no idea, just stay with me, okay?)