Let’s Catch Up

Hey!

How are you? No, seriously, are you good?

Can I start this post by sharing something I read recently?

1. Relax your brows
2. Let your tongue fall from the roof of your mouth
3. Unclench your jaw
4. Let your shoulders fall away from your ears

Don’t you feel more relaxed? I am.

Anyway, I realise I have neglected my blog AGAIN. How is time moving so fast? I swear, I blink and a month has passed. I’ll have grey hairs by the time I stop binging every series available on Netflix.

edward norton

So, while it feels like no time at all since I last updated this blog, it’s actually been months – but I’ve still been writing. You know me (unless it’s your first time here – in which case, run while you can) if I’m not writing, I feel absolutely useless. So please, allow me to catch you up on my latest ramblings.

soofiya
by soofiya.com

Dear, sweet summertime of 2018 is reaching its end (having said that, it’s August and is already looking miserable as f*ck, so maybe it’s already ended). Anyway, I still remember the start of summer so clearly – it marked the start of Ramadan, a holy month for Muslims where we abstain from all the things we usually take for granted from sunrise to sunset. It’s a real test of mental strength and is a great detoxing process of the body, cleansing everything from your blood to your mind. And no, you can’t even drink water in those hours.

This year I really struggled to get through it – I was having a hard time with my mental health and I beat myself up about it alot. So I wrote about battling depression during Ramadan and why ultimately, the best thing you can do is be kind to yourself.

Read my article ‘Battling Depression During Ramadan’ on Gal-Dem here. 

 

transport
Image by Priyanka Meenakshi

Speaking of Gal-Dem, I wrote something else for them which was scary to write, but one of the things I am most proud to have written, because microaggressions are real and I was sick of being made to feel I was mad. The reality is, being a WoC in England can be tough. You become highly attuned to the energy of those around you for the sake of self-preservation. I wrote about how I am made to feel on public transport sometimes, and I was so touched at the response I got. So many women empathised. If you have read it, thank you. If you haven’t, you can read it here.

Read ‘Being a Woman of Colour on Public Transport’ via Gal-Dem now.

 

muslimgirl.png

I don’t know if you knew this, but I used to wear a hijab. I loved it for how it made me feel, but I didn’t feel ready to represent Islam in such a public way, so I felt like the most respectful thing was to take it off while I discovered who I was and got certain (admittedly haram) things out of my system… I wrote about it for MuslimGirl, an awesome website based in the US.

Read a Love Letter to the Hijab I Removed here.

 

IMG_5008
Forever a frizz ball…

Let’s talk about hair, bay-bee. How is yours? Mine is coarse, frizzy and dry, thanks to my bleaching the living hell out of it. Everytime I go to hairdressers on the high street I feel like they don’t understand how to style or cut my hair… unless I pay an extortionate amount to see the highest qualified person. Whether you’re from Syria or Sri Lanka there’s a chance you might have experienced the same thing – which begs the question – why do we not have any swanky salons dedicated to our hair type (that I know of)?

Read ‘Hair-Raising’ here.

 

jalebi
Art By HateCopy

 

I know a lot of LGBTQ people. Some of them are happily married, some of them are single in Soho living their best lives, some of them are still coming to terms with who they are, and some of them have spent their life trying to deny who they are. It’s a tough job trying to accommodate your faith, family and culture with your sexual identity. I wrote a piece of fiction based on all the love, passion and painful stories I have heard over the years, covering the conflict in something that should be so easy – love.

Read ‘In a Closet of Dreams’ here.

 

I think I’ve left you with enough of my ramblings! Until next time, baby girl.

Love, Maz x

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