Reflections & Recipes

  Part I: The Ghost in the Glass In 2021, their world was just a glowing screen, simply put a phone, when she looked at him through the glass, it felt like she had finally found where she belonged while gazing at these honey warm eyes. He was a man of "quiet violence" a martial artist who moved with a heavy, serious power in a modest way. Unfortunately at that time, she didn't know her own worth. She felt like a stranger to herself, not realizing she was a "Cathedral" of beauty and light just waiting for someone to notice, to worship to claim. But he was a ghost even when he was there. He had no home and no steady path; more like he has an outline of his path but she was not included in the essentials, he was a traveler who lived for the cold wind and sea. He stepped into her life and fed on her joy, using her laughter like fuel to keep himself moving for entertainment purposes. For a year, they lived in a world made only of words as dull it may sound for her it...

For a long time, I let the whispers of society and more specifically the voices of those closest to me state my value as a women. I grew up under the impression that my worth as a woman was measured by the "demand" for me.  Yes you read it right, I was lead to believe my worth was about how many men asked for my hand, how many were "checking in" or how many stopped me on the street to speak. And I found that a lot of women share maybe a bit of the same thinking, and it is very wrong. I’ve been through my fair share of "talking stages", maybe way more than I should, where I was asked, "Do men stop you in the street to talk to you?" which only backed up the idea of high demand in my mind, but  to be honest till this day never understood the meaning behind that question anyways.  When I gave my honest answer which is a no,  I was met with disbelief, distaste, or even a faint hint of pity. For a moment, I let that get to me. I started walking in circ...

  Sometimes, we do everything right. We drink the water. We cook the meals, We move our bodies and we finish our chores. We tell ourselves we will rest and slow it down. But rest is not just closing your eyes. Rest is not just sitting still because even in the dark, the "tabs are kept open" hanging in the air like ghosts, a tab for the message you didn't answer. a tab of the bill that hasn't arrived, a tab for the dinner you haven't planned for tomorrow, a tab of the health issues you keep ignoring .... dozen of tabs open at the same time looking at you .  We think we are resting, but our minds are still running. Waking up with tight jaws and heavy spirits, because the whole night we were carrying the weight of a thousand small "maybe’s" and "soon’s." I think the only way is to stop ignoring the noise of these tabs, I am the administrator and I should address each one individually, this tab is unnecessary and needs to be closed, this tab too bi...

 There’s a version of healing that people don’t talk about enough or maybe at all.  The part where you think you are doing okey or over whatever happened. Where you walk away from something that hurt you, feeling strong, composed at times proud of how easily you let go. And then, hours or even days later, it hits. Not gently. Not gradually but more like a slap from someone that was waiting for you to be alone. Suddenly, your chest feels tight. Your mind starts racing. Every thought you got rid off comes back louder, heavier, harder to ignore. The What Ifs, The Maybes... and all what comes with the doubts. You try to make sense of it, but it moves too fast overwhelming you like a horse on a rampage and refusing to be tamed. And that’s when the real struggle begins, because controlling your thoughts isn’t as easy as “just think positive” type of thing; not like flipping a switch ( low-key wish it is ). It’s not one decision. It’s a process that often looks like losing rath...