ADHD diagnosis...not quite surprised!

Hello dear readers! 

Did you miss me? 

I come bearing news, that I can't even qualify as good or as bad. 

Credit: Getty

Last month I was diagnosed with mild ADHD. My psychiatrist ran long, various and exhausting tests. It was a journey, I have to say!

For years, I was not sure if being easily distracted was because of my undiagnosed ADHD or because I was lazy or unable to commit to anything. 

When I was undiagnosed and unaware, which the majority of my life, I was living in the dark. This was how life was like, hard with daily mental obstacles. And I accepted it not knowing it could've been easier and swifter. Then... six years ago, a therapist brought up that I might have ADHD. Eye-opening experience. Then a fellow therapist of his asked me a bunch of questions and she concluded a premature diagnosis that I don't have ADHD. 

This experience left me confused. Few year later, I visited another therapist (for another reason), but when it came to ADHD, he asked me a bunch of questions (again) and concluded that I have "selective attention". Given that this therapist ended up not being that great, this diagnoses meant nothing. 

Misdiagnosis was even worse than the lack of diagnosis. Because I felt something was off, but a trained professional told me basically that I was wrong. So, officially I had no explanation or excuse why my brain was like that, you know? 

But then, finally it all made sense, thank God.

It took my last psychiatrist several sessions to finally to come with the conclusion that I am an ADHDer. A first session to take a general history, then several long (often 4-hour long sessions) with different tests that had to do with short term and long term memory, shapes and colors, math, among other cognitive fields. According to my psychiatrist, this didn't cover all possible cognitive areas. Joke's on my ex-therapists, ha!

When I was undiagnosed and misdiagnosed, I spent those years trying to be better, trying to concentrate more, doing some exercises. Trying to not miss any event or deadline by writing everything in my Google calendar (not a paid ad, but I wish it were). And lots of other measures taken.

My psychiatrist told me these efforts and exercises have been paying off, this is why I have much less to cope with and accommodate to. 

Being undiagnosed then misdiagnosed is definitely a tiring experience, filled with self-doubt, loss and... shame. 

I don't think my life would ever be "normal", but I'm getting so much better already and... I have faith!

Le rouge.

A la manière de Jean-Michel Maulpoix:

 

Le rouge est une couleur chaude.

 

On la trouve partout. À la nature comme à l’artificiel. Au feu, au coucher du soleil, aux feuilles d’arbres en automne, à la fleur et au fruit.

 

Une couleur vibrante, excitante. La couleur de la passion et de l’amour. Les câlins chaleureux, les bisous. Quand nous devenons en colère, timide ou jaloux.

 

On l’ajoute à nos joues, à nos lèvres, à nos ongles, pour se raffiner. On met une robe rouge ou une nuisette rouge pour se sentir attirante, charmante. Un teint qui symbolise la fraîcheur, la jeunesse et la beauté. Une couleur qui accentue la sensualité et le désire. Une couleur qui touche les âmes et fait bouger les émotions.

 

C’est la couleur du sang qui coule dans toutes nos veines. La couleur de la vie et de la mort. Le tout et le rien. Le chagrin et la gaité.

Cutting Ties

 I have cut ties with so many people in the last few years, for various reasons. I regret nothing.

After failing at setting boundaries and failing to limit interactions with them, I resorted to ending some relationships. This is because I decided that I no longer have to tolerate toxic relationships just because they were with people I've known for so long.

I cut ties for either one or both of the following reasons:

First, I don't have to tolerate disrespect and mockery disguised as "jokes". I don't have to tolerate casual sexist and misogynistic jokes and remarks either. I'm sick of being told I'm not "fun" because I don't laugh and engage with them anymore. I'm sick of expressing my feelings and seeing them dismiss them. This is mean, degrading and hurtful. 

And no, I'm not educating anyone anymore. I have tried, I did. I did because I cherished those relationships and thought that I could help these people see the bigger picture and understand where I was coming from. It didn't work out. And believe me, I'm done educating grown-ass adults. 

The internet is free, you can read tons of books, listen to podcasts or even watch YouTube videos. You can join different groups online and talk to different people. If you want to learn you can and you will. But I guess for some people it's way easier to be ignorant and hurtful. It's fine because everyone is free to choose their path. It's also fine, because I don't associate myself with them anymore. 

The second reason, I cut ties when I found myself the only one trying to maintain the relationship. I actually "tested" a former friend of mine: I stopped texting them at all to see if they'd reach out or not. They didn't for months. And I knew that they talked and met with other common friends of ours, so they could've talked to me too. But they chose not to. Our friendship was dying anyway, so I decided that it was enough. And I removed them from all my social media platforms. Just like that. 

My dad always tells me : "Relationships are like ping-pong. You can't be the only one throwing a ball. Both parties have to throw to have a game." Those are words I go by in life and they never missed. 

If you don't put effort, then bye.

How long you've known someone doesn't give you a pass to mistreat them. It doesn't mean you could keep on treating them the same way even though they complained about it.

Anyway, take care of yourself and you loved ones! And don't let anyone mistreat you.

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You don't have to forgive people.

"Forgive them, for you, not them." 

"Forgive them in order to move on and have closure".

"Forgiveness will set you free".

Photo by averie woodard on Unsplash

Unlike the popular belief, I don't believe everyone deserves forgiveness. Or to be exact, some hurtful words and damaging actions have too much amplitude to be forgiven. And it's okay to hold a grudge.

Especially since they most probably haven't apologized and they don't even find themselves wrong at all. I don't know about you, but it's not easy for me to forgive someone who hasn't come clean and sincerely apologized. If the person doesn't hold themselves accountable and comes forward to apologize, how am I supposed to forgive them? Because "sorry" is the bare minimum I deserve after whatever damage they caused me.

Sometimes our beloved ones tend to pressure us into forgiving who wronged us. To which, I understand their concern and good intention. But actually this is harmful. It puts a lot of pressure and even some guilt on us. They haven't been in your shoes, they don't fully understand your pain, so it's totally understandable that they give you inadequate advice.

If you're unable to forgive someone, I'm here to tell you it's okay. I'm with you. You can totally move on and have closure in other ways:

- Write this person a letter or an email, that you'll never send of course, and express all of your feelings of hurt and disappointment. 

- Go to therapy, untangle the trauma and issues. Work out how you could feel better.

- Surround yourself with people who care about you and understand your pain without pressuring you.

- Distract yourself in a healthy way: get a new hobby, learn a new language, read...

- Instead of waiting for an apology from the person who hurt you, apologize to yourself in their behalf. This might be helpful.

This is the fruit of my own observations, readings and experience. It's not a one-size fits all. But I hope at least it gave you some new perspective.

Stay safe and take care of yourself and your beloved ones.

Living with Chronic Illnesses

Hello! I hope you're well and staying home! Today I'm sharing a bit of a personal area of my life.

As a lot of my peers, I'm young but my body feels a lot older.

I'm 23 now,  but I have more health issues than my baby boomer* parents. Combined. No joke.

When I was in grade 10, so about 17 years old, I started having knee problems. Climbing stairs for me is such an exhausting mandatory activity. I have to lean on the handrail, and I climb it really slowly. I really have to get this checked. But to my defense, it runs in my paternal family and I know that it's not curable anyway. But, sure, I'll go check it.

Two years later, I was so angry at someone who was really provoking and annoying me. Few hours later, I had killing pain that I failed to identify, I was in so much agony. Next morning the pain was much worse, I was screaming. After running some tests, I found out that I have IBS. Which means, any time I'm stressed and/or angry, I have really bad pain. It's close to period pain, if I could compare to anything else. When I'm on my period, my colon pain gets sooooo much worse. Medications really do nothing, so I have to quit certain foods and keep my cool to contain my pain. This didn't work much, till I was recently diagnosed with lactose intolerance. Now, I can control my symptoms much more and my life became easier, thank God.

When I was in high school, too, because apparently all my issues started then, I was working out in the gym, when suddenly my back cracked in a wrong way. Since then it started hurting. I went to several doctors in vain. And my condition got worse gradually. I recently visited a doctor and was diagnosed with mild Scoliosis (curvature of the spine). My treatment plan is really complicated since I spend at least two months in Egypt each year. But I'll figure it out.

I currently have what I hope to be a temporary problem: tendon inflammation in my right wrist that shoots up to my whole arm, shoulder and neck. So obviously I can't use my right arm. So much fun! I tried a treatment that didn't work out and I was originally waiting to go back to Egypt to continue my treatment, but now I'm waiting for the pandemic to end haha.

Living with chronic pain all the time made me used to it for sure. Some days are worse than the others, of course. Some days I can't function at all. But what I really want people to understand is: living with chronic pain is living with of 40% of pain capacity (for example). So if I have a headache, it's not just a headache, it's a headache on top of other old issues. Which means I'm at 60% of pain capacity (for example). 

* Baby boomer: is a term used to refer to people born between 1946 and 1964. (my mom was born a few years after, but being a boomer is a lifestyle and mentality more than anything)

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Lockdown.

23/03/2020

I can't believe I'm writing this, I can't believe this is actually happening. This all feels like a horror movie. Or science-fiction. The coronavirus outbreak is really scary, the statistics are scary, the uncertainties we live on a daily basis are scary.  I don't want to spread negativity, and I won't.

I wish everyone's safe and home. Please be responsible. 

This lock-down gave all of us so much more spare time than usual. I'm not counting anymore the days. Time's become an illusion to me at this point.

From my balcony.

Like everyone, I spent a lot of time thinking and wondering about life. There are a lot of aspects of my life that I've been taking for granted: going out for fun, gatherings or even running errands. Hugging my beloved ones. Going shopping whenever I wanted even if it was for a pair of socks without caution or too much thinking. Buying non-essentials like desserts, takeout or even a pack of gum.

On the other hand, I appreciate basic necessities I've always had and still have despite a global pandemic: a roof over my head, electricity, water, a good internet connection and food. This reinforced my sense of responsibility and community towards less fortunate people out there. We're all in this together.

With more time on my hand, I found myself contacting old friends checking on them. I've been so busy, and they were too, that I didn't realize that I haven't caught up with some friends for a year or two. I call my close friends and family more frequently too. And they were a big help to fight the lack of social life I'm currently living as an extrovert.

During this time, I realized how some celebrities are straight-up stupid. There was this Egyptian "influencer" who posted the most obnoxious hair stylist ad ever, something along the lines of "I know everyone is having a hard time now, but look at my hair!! It was done by the talented Nobody Cares!!" Others shined differently. If you know me, you know I'm a huge fan of Justin Baldoni, he was the star on Jane the Virgin, but that's not why I love him, he always tackles the subject of healthy masculinity. So, anyway, Justin Baldoni used his platform many times to raise awareness about coronavirus and he tried to be helpful. For example, he had a live "interview" with his therapist so people could ask him questions about mental health during this tough time. Egyptian actors and athletes also had a challenge where they financially support families in need and nominate each other. This is a good use of fame!

This catastrophe highlighted the heroic role of doctors and all the healthcare workers. They have to deal with a lot of stress on a daily basis, let alone be very close to the virus. When we talk about people risking their lives during this pandemic, we often forget people who are still working and have to be in contact with the public: all the people working in the food industries whether they are  supermarket cashiers or farmers, people working in maintenance, cleaning and collecting garbage. Let alone volunteers helping people in need on a daily basis. The list is very long. Those people are the real stars, and they have been working backstage all this time. What is sad and unfair is that they're underpaid worldwide, but that it for another day.

I've always had in the back of my mind the saying "Everything but God is mortal" and could go in a split of a second. But our reality is a whole new level of change. This is beyond what anyone could've expected or imagined. All of our lives are on hold, despite how dynamic they were just before this.

I currently don't post much, but I'm trying to post more I swear! So click here to subscribe by email, and click here to read an old article. See you soon I hope! Take care.

2 Houses and No Home

Home

The place where I can go

To take this off my shoulder

Someone take me home 

- Home, by Machine Gun Kelly, Bebe Rexha and X Ambassadors.

Please excuse my photo editing skills.

Regardless of the fact that I was born in Kuwait and spent around 4 years there (and later many summers), I don't consider it home... anymore.

I've lived in Egypt till I was 19. I went to two main different schools. Played sports. Had hobbies. Made friends, bonded with them through ups and downs. Lost friends. Bonded with my family. Learned about life, more or less. Ate and appreciated the traditional food. Spoke the language. Followed (some of) the traditions. Got a permanent tan, there are like 322 sunny days per year in Egypt, so yeah.

But my small teenage world changed when I moved out to study in France. I spoke their language. Got used to their food, and loved it by the way. Gradually lost some of the tan during winter, but regain it each summer, back home. The constant skin tone change is so weird actually. Made new friends. Went to conferences and events. Got acquainted. Learned about adult life and responsibilities. Took care of myself. Took care of others. Experienced life more maturely. Learned about some of the traditions. Connected with people back home.

When I'm in Egypt, I miss some aspects of France. And when I'm in France, I miss Egypt.

Gradually and unconsciously, France is becoming more my home. This is why each time I go back, it's less sad. It feels now like leaving a home to go to another. But also, sometimes it feels like having no home at all. Very confusing..

This living situation taught me patience, sacrifice and gratitude. Every time I book a ticket, I'm so excited to go back to a home, I even countdown the days. Sometimes the hours. I have to sacrifice so many things. I miss out on a lot of events and life updates of my beloved ones when I'm in France. But if I would live in Egypt for good, I'd miss out on studying at La Sorbonne (obviously) and on so many other opportunities down the line. 

You can't have the cake and eat it. But I'm definitely grateful for everything, and I'm hopefully making the best decision for me, my career and future. إن شاء الله.

Foreign Languages!

Hey! I've recently noticed that I publish almost once a month, even after I promised to write more, but life got in the way. 

I've been reflecting on my linguistic skills recently. Especially the French and English ones. I mean, I've considered improving my Arabic as well, since the Arabic I speak and write isn't enough. Bref. Today's article is about foreign languages.

2014, in Russia

I know it's ironic that my blog is in English, when it's not my mother-tongue, discussing foreign languages. And I could improve my Arabic by writing here, but no, I'm too afraid to try. Maybe one day..

Have you ever spoken in your second (or third language) and got compliments on how well you speak? "Oh you speak so well! I didn't even notice your accent! Where did you learn English?" And like my good friend Gina said, "I want it to be flawless as if it's my first language, with no accent." And that is some insane amount of pressure we put on ourselves really.

I mean, we've spent at least a decade learning this language, and guess what, learning in that language. 

There is a wide range of terminology that I solely know in French and/or English, because I learnt sciences and math in them. It's a sad and shameful feeling when you get used to certain words in a foreign language, to the point of despising them in your native language. "Oh it's called like that in Arabic? So gross! It's better in English." (and yes I've heard that)

But it still isn't ours and there's a limit of fluency you could reach without giving up your mother tongue. And yes, I've read that you could forget your own language if you took up a new one and (gradually) neglected it. So take care of your native language, folks!

The truth is, I love Arabic, I adore it, okay? But I try as much as I can to improve my other languages due to living abroad, which includes: studying in a foreign language, attending classes in a foreign language, everyday-life conversations and news in a foreign language, reading everything and anything in a foreign language.

It's so exhausting. Sometimes after a long day of speaking French, I get a headache and start forgetting words, freezing and saying nonsense. What is even worse is that, when I go back home, attempt to speak Arabic with Mahy, then fail to make up a whole meaningful sentence...?? At this point I 1. feel stupid and 2. becoming bye-lingual.

And what's really ironic is that I'm the only one who thinks my French and English are not good enough. I remember one time I was calling Shaimaa (my American friend) and in the middle of the call I froze and said "Oh my God, it's been a while since I last spoke in English, it's a little rusty, I'm sorry. It'll get better in a  minute." And she hasn't even noticed any issue. I have linguistic insecurity when it comes to anything other than Arabic. That's it, I admit it!

What I've noticed is, people (and especially monolinguals) don't really care if you make mistakes, have an accent or forget words. From my experience, they are understanding and listen attentively, waiting for me to remember the word I want to say. Or listen to me, explaining the word I'm looking for. And during this whole process, I'm the only one who seems to be irritated by my not-so-perfect language. 

However, there are three daily struggles that I face. 1. My humour doesn't usually translate well. I mean, half of the time the joke is fine in the other language, the other half there's an awkward silence. Shame, shame. 2. Idioms are usually monolingual. When I translate them from Arabic, it creates a weird expression. A friend of mine, Marguerite, usually gets it and says it's enjoyable, since her dad does the same thing and she's used to it. 3. Suddenly discovering that I don't know a certain word in French that I immediately need. Of course, Google Translate helps a lot in such situations, but this luxury's not usually available though. 

There's only ONE rude person who commented negatively on my accent saying she couldn't understand me. The joke's on her, since everyone understands me. Being racist is sad..

Anyway, I'm glad I'm back to writing, and I hope you enjoyed my article (and maybe related to it too). 

See you soon, I hope!

get used to it..

If you know me personally or through this blog, you already know that I'm a planner. I have a plan A, and B for my life in general, and minor plans. C, D or .. I'm really not sure of how many they are, but anyway.

From my trip to Belgium.

When a plan fails, because of my actions/ decisions, someone's or exterior factors, it breaks my heart. A lot, or a little, depending on the amplitude.

But today I'm not talking about how to act quickly and change plans. Today I'm talking about getting used to change.

I hate change. I hate it so much.

Everyday, I have to get used to washing my hands and not see my old ring.

Stumbling upon gifts is a part of my daily routine. I took a paper and grabbed a random pen from my desk to take notes, and then I realized it was a gift too. I'm not even sure if I should throw them away, or just try to detach them from their "original" owners. Same goes to photos and, most importantly, memories.

I have to get used to plans being altered, to the disappointment that comes with it. To people disappearing.. To people not being part of my plans, or in other terms, life journey..

Sometimes, when life is going as perfectly as planned, you might think that you've got it all figured out, that you're amazing, a huge life master. I had the audacity to think like that, then I got slapped in the face. Life's ironic. Fortunately, every time a plan changes, it gives you a new perspective. As hard as change is, it reminded me how fortunate I am to have the support of my family and friends. Also it made me realize how sometimes we're blinded by our goals and thoughts and plans that we don't spend as much time with the people who have always been there and who really matter.

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Privilege.

You've certainly heard phrases like "white privilege" or "rich privilege", but what is this really about?

Some groups of people are born with more rights than the others and that's the sad and disappointing truth about the world we're currently living in. And maybe humanity will never fix this, who knows.

During my life, I came across several yet varied types of privilege. I came to the conclusion that it's really rare for people to acknowledge their privilege, as well. Some go as far as denying it.

With my white friend, whose dad has a lot of connections.
I told her she's privileged by the way, we're still friends somehow.

Rich people, for instance, don't have to suffer in ways their fellow poor or middle-class individuals suffer. The bourgeoise society has it easy in many ways, such as the very obvious one: inherited access to basic needs (food, education, shelter, ..). But also, it's very easy for them to find jobs after graduation as they could work for their parents' or acquaintances' firm/ business. Or some of them even choose to live relying on their family's wealth. They don't have to go through the struggle of getting good grades, maybe even working part time simultaneously,  applying for as many internships as possible and living with the bare minimum. Some of those internships are even unpaid. And why do we need unpaid internships? Why would anyone put time and effort for free? Well, because no-one hires a fresh graduate with zero experience. It's a loop. A loop they don't need to experience.

Having a parent with a lot of connections is also privilege. I have a friend whose father has many friends in all the fields. You name it! He can get anything done, basically. I mean, I would love to have that, it'd would give me a sense of security.

How about male privilege? Do males have it really easier? Yes, and they're oblivious too. Men get usually recruited more, because businesses don't want to pay for maternity leave and anything that has to do with motherhood. Even though, two people have a baby and both are equally responsible, but... Also, in most Arab and/or Muslim households, they have more freedom. They go out as much as they want, travel alone, and the lame list goes on. 

So how should you feel about your privilege? I believe it's definitely fine to have privilege. It's normal to use it too. Otherwise you'd be wasting opportunities. I get it. I mean, I have some privilege too, and I use it. But what you shouldn't do is either 1) ignore and deny it, or 2) feel ashamed of it.

What you should also do as a privileged individual is use it to help others. Use your privilege to talk about and defend other people's struggles. Use it to make a change. Use your privilege as a rich / famous person to raise awareness for the homeless and help them for instance. Use your male privilege to defend female rights. Use your privilege as a white person to defend a black, brown or just any non-white person.

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Let People Thank You!

Personally, I keep thanking people for everything, from giving me a tissue to saving my life.

My short trip to Le Havre. Unrelated, but who cares?

If a teacher, for example hands me a test paper and I don't thank them instantly, because I'm focused and in the mood to problem-solve, I feel so rude seconds afterwards. And definitely overthink it later.

On the other side of the problem, some people get really offended when I do so. I have friends that would insult me if I thanked them. Literally:

- Thanks for lending me your book, by the way.

My overly dramatic friend: Oh, you silly, don't thank me. Are you dumb? We're good friends, it's illegal that we'd thank each other.  I'll kill you if you thank me again.

I'm not even exaggerating. Maybe a little. And yes, this is mainly you, Mahy. Also, sometimes Rozza.

Through what I originally came across randomly in some psychology article, you better accept all the "thank you"s you're pushing. The article gave a very convincing reason, which I put it to the test.

The reason behind accepting the "thank you"s is that, when you prevent or deny them, people gradually stop saying them. Not only this, but they'll eventually take you, and all your actions, for granted. With every "it's nothing" you say,  they'll progressively feel entitled to what you do and expect it each time they "ask" for it. They'd gradually demand it as if it's their right. If you decide to not provide it anymore for any reason, they'd feel betrayed, when you were actually doing an extra gesture in the first place.

Like I said before, I tested this method to see how differently I'd feel. I let people thank me, at first not replying at all, because I was not used to it and I was kind of embarrassed. It was exactly like when people sing to you happy birthday, you just stand there, smiling not knowing what to say. Or do. Then I, bit by bit, replied with "You're welcome". It made me feel good. Appreciated. What I did was valued and appreciated and deserved a simple statement of gratefulness.

So the article was right. And I'm advising everyone to just let people thank you!

Next time, I should write about over-apologizing and how you react to it. Stay tuned.

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Hanger.

In case you're not familiar with the term, hanger = (hunger + anger).

Me and the love of my life.

It's no secret that when I get extremely hungry, I go insane or something. Once Mahy, Dana and I were out and I said I was hungry. Mahi was like "Oh do you see how she acts when she gets hungry?!" And Dana glared and said "Oh my God, yes!". I thought my hanger wasn't an old trait, but apparently not. But the fact that an old friend talks like that with a new one is just frustrating. 

I mean, when my hanger episode ends, and I look back at what I've said and did, I thank the burger I'm holding in my hand for saving humanity from my temporary stupidity.

The thing is, I have levels of hunger. I would've loved to make a diagram for you but I don't have much time. I love diagrams by the way. My hunger rises gradually from "It'd be good if I could eat now and if I don't it's fine too" to "My stomach is torturing me and I need FOOD NOW ARRHHH" (I don't know if screaming is written in English that way but mine is mostly عااااااا in Arabic).

I mean, for example, if I'm waiting in a line (I hate waiting in lines) on a regular day, I'd be pissed but it's fine. If I'm hangry, then there's a chance I'll yell at the next person that coughs next to me. I'm joking. Or not, I don't remember much what happens when I'm hangry. 

Some times, things pile up: college stress, bills, a stupid fight with a friend, Salma or Alaa, it's winter, the bakery has no more chocolate cakes and I broke my nail. All of this is really manageable for me on regular days. It takes some basic thinking, planing and communication to solve them. But when I'm hangry, my hidden drama queen side rises. 

"How dare them not have chocolate cake? I do not care if it's late and they were closing but why??", 

"My nail is broken again, I will look terrible after cutting it. Will it grow again?" and

 "I'm not wrong, you ARE"..

Rozza suggested that I'd take deep breaths when I'm hangry to calm down and think rationally. I will try that. But for now, dearly beloved, just feed me! And thank you for tolerating me when I'm hungry. You're amazing.

Does anyone have any funny (or crazy..?!)  hanger stories?

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#10YearChallenge

We all came across the #10YearChallenge, whether we participated, liked others' pictures or just scrolled down past them.

 2009 vs 2019

I shamelessly posted my picture, after scrolling through the very old part of my Facebook to find it, the part I made "only me" to prevent certain friends from reaching. And they know who they are. And how they used to laugh at silly old photos. 

An article appeared somewhere stating that Facebook started this challenge to collect data on how faces change over time. First of all, I'm not surprised at all if that's the case. Secondly, who cares? The people who participated in the challenge are the same people who share so many information through social media. Whether they do so through the posts or through the messages, their private information is there, somewhere, in a server belonging to Mark Zuckerberg. 

But I'm not here to talk about this. I'm here to talk about why everyone focused on how their appearance changed and not what they've achieved between 2009 and now. Who cares if you had a unibrow in 2009 and now you know how to use tweezers? Let's talk about achievements and real development.

I'll go first. In 2009, I was in my preteen, and now I'm obviously in my early twenties.

I had no idea what I wanted from life. All I cared about was fashion and Hannah Montana. Okay maybe not to that extent, but I was not sure of what I wanted from life anyway.

During those ten years, I developed so much better than I expected and imagined. I read so many articles on so many topics that I can't even remember, watched documentaries on also so many topics, traveled solo to three countries (minus Egypt of course), tried "exotic" food, traveled many times with my friends and family, made friends around the world, learned programming and electronics, drastically improved my English, and French, and even Arabic, learned German and Spanish, read a bunch of novels and took care of my mental health on my own (or almost).

During those ten years, I made so many different plans for my life. I had the courage to scratch them and make new ones. I wanted to become a pharmacist when I was at my pre-teenage. During high school years, I was in search of my passion. I had a phase where I decided to completely focus on myself and career, no kids and probably no marriage too. I had another where I'd give up everything too, but this time to become a vlogger and travel the world. I was not sure of what I wanted. Now what I want in the future is to make a balance between a career, having a family and having fun! It's going to be complicated and exhausting, but it'll be worth it.

During those ten years, my views on relationships shifted quite often too. At a young age, I was looking for love, I wanted to be in love. I had a teenage short failed experience, also insignificant. Then I gradually stopped considering it. I thought I could never find what I wanted, and deserved. Then I had a mini-experience, also insignificant. Afterwards, I believed again that I could never find what I wanted at least before the age of 27. I totally gave up. And then Alaa came to my life from nowhere. I fell in love headfirst. And now I know why nothing else made sense.

I'm so thankful to everyone I had in my journey, every single person had an impact a way or another. I'm so proud of myself. And in the words of Jessie J: "I'm still working on my masterpiece".

"Nice Guys"

Happy new year! I hope you have a wonderful year full of blessings and achievements. In 2019, I promise you I'll try to publish more. I have other new year's resolutions that I might share with you.

Like a lot of women, I was attacked before because I turned down a "nice guy". And I find it really annoying that women are criticized in general for doing so.

A nice guy. But not only.

I mean the idea of "women turn down nice guys but end up with abusive/ bad ones" is popular to an extent. Or at least, people show a disapproval when a woman turns down a nice guy. 

But what is a "nice guy" anyway? Respectful? A guy who cares about a girl? A loyal guy? A decent guy? 

According to Mahi: "A nice guy is never enough. If I meet a guy and describe him as "nice but..", he's not for me, and that's it."

Are we supposed to date those guys simply for showing us basic human manners? Why are we expected to be with someone just for being nice? That's so degrading. It's like you're saying "Be grateful he's not a terrible, abusive man". Women deserve to have standards and requirements, because we have different tastes and different needs.

I met so many "nice" guys whom I couldn't stand being with them in the same postal code for long! 

I'm not trying to bash anyone, but hear me out.

As a young woman, it's not enough for me to meet a "nice" guy to be attracted to him and then boom date him! It does not work like that. In short, I have a type, some standards and requirements. Maybe a younger version of me would've accepted a nice guy, but not now-me.

I've met nice guys who were so different from me, who had different interests and goals in life. Others were really not attractive to me. Of course the physique is not the most important aspect of a person but still. Other guys had a bad/ different sense of humor. And the list goes on.

Why are women expected to accept the bare minimum in a relationship? We deserve to have standards and aspire for a healthy and happy relationship, not just a relationship. Or a mediocre, boring one.

Not to mention that, women are expected to want to get married as if it's mandatory, but that's for another article.


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Am I Lucky or Hard-Working?

Hey beloved readers, how are you doing? How are the holidays/ finals?

Yesterday, I was lying in bed after a long exhausting day of cleaning the house and redecorating it, thinking about my life.

I reviewed my last three years, the ups and downs, then asked myself "Am I lucky or hard-working?"

Comfy cute PJs + new deep wallpaper + warm socks = winter vibes

I mean, I'm lucky to have such a supportive family who wanted me to study abroad. I'm lucky to have spent most of my school years in a French school and became fluent. I'm lucky to have been accepted in the best university in Paris. I'm lucky to have amazing friends who are by my side, despite the distance and despite all of us being busy adults. I'm so lucky to have Mahi with me, sharing the good and the bad moments, help me through the struggles and cheer for me. Last but not least, I'm beyond lucky to be with Alaa.

But..

It's not enough to just depend on my luck. 

I mean, yes it takes pure luck to have these things, but I have to work hard to maintain them. 

I worked so hard on my French, I didn't just depend on the school work. Now, I have to work so, so hard at my college to pass. I have to communicate a lot with all the people in my life in order to have healthy relationships with them, some times even sacrifie to maintain those relationships. I have to invest a lot of time and effort for those relationships.

I was lucky to have these things to begin with, yes, thank God! And I'm very thankful and aware that I'm privileged. But if I don't work hard enough to keep them, I'd lose everything.

What about my satisfaction? 

I mean, sometimes I forget for a second about how much I prayed for what I have now. (Very cliché but true, I promise). To make matters worse, sometimes because of a minor issue, I'm not satisfied with what I have. Or even worse, I want more..

Now, what I do when I'm not satisfied is that I remind myself of how much I was craving what I have now. I strongly believe that if a person is never satisfied that means they have a serious problem of insatisfaction, greediness and a lack of realisme. I believe that if you're pessimistic and only focus on what's missing from you, you're doing it wrong and you're not even fully living.

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Overthinking is Good.

Yeah you read that right! Also, I miss publishing articles so much!! 

Overthinking is good, I mean not when it prevents you from sleeping or functioning properly, of course.

Just hear my arguments. Maybe you'd be convinced.

I, like you, believed it was bad and exhausting to overthink everything. I was opposed to this philosophy too when Alaa kept saying it, until gradually I noticed its accuracy and saw how I improved.

Reviewing my recent actions is a part of my daily routine. Even the smallest ones. For example when I go to the supermarket, afterwards I start asking myself "Was I friendly enough? Did I smile enough? Or too much?"... At least this helps me know how I'm behaving and how to improve.

Overthinking is what helps me improve as a person, because it pushes me to communicate more and want to do better.

And of course the classic, reviewing old actions and thinking about what I could have done. This is useless. What good can thinking of what I did wrong five years ago do to me? I have no control over it. If I had a time machine, yeah that would've been perfect, but I don't.

We can now easily classify overthinking into two categories: the bad and pointless type of overthinking which I'd like to call: Pointless Overthinking and the good type that helps me improve: Good Overthinking. Very obvious and short names, I know!

When I review my actions and then go back to the people and ask them if I annoyed or hurt them, that's some Good Overthinking. When my overthinking pushes me to plan more for my future, it's the good type, but when I obsess over what I can't plan/ change and worry, it's the Pointless, obviously.

So, you have to train your brain. And this is what I'm still learning to do. Ask yourself, every time, "Is this constructive? Will this lead me to do better?"

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Sitting on the Fence

So here's the deal. I look like a carbon copy of my mom. I was basically too lazy to mix and match the facial features from both of my parents so I took everything from my mother. My face is basically plagiarism.

But when it comes to my personality, I have traits from both families, definitely along with gained ones. It's both great and terrible.

I like it because I feel connected to both bloods and have the best of both worlds. But also I feel distant, like sitting on the fence and belonging nowhere.

For example, I am sensitive just like my mother's branch. The slightest actions could leave an impact on me.  I never forget any critic. But I'm also tough like the other branch. So I don't cry that much and I bear a lot. So confusing because my dad keeps telling me things like "We don't cry, toughen up." while my mother tells me things like "Are you heartless?!" when I'm cold or neutral.

Your fellow blogger is the oldest grandchild in the mother's family but one of the youngest in the father's. So I get treated like a kid at 5 pm and a role model and idol at 8. This has been confusing as well, I couldn't figure how to act, you know? So exhausting. Even though some of my paternal cousins no longer treat me like a kid, deep down, I feel like one when I'm around them. Some times it's hard to find common ground for discussion with them, but it's definitely harder to find common ground with my maternal cousins. I mean, my problems and obsessions such as career choice and not having enough money to travel are nothing like theirs which are planning a Frozen-themed birthday party and going to the gymnastics practice after school.

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Embracing my Flaws

As cliché as it sounds, but nobody's perfect and this is a fact. We all have flaws and we all need to improve. No matter how old, rich or healthy you are.

Confidence level= infinity.
(I posed in front of this purple truck because I found it cute, but the photo turned out like this anyway!)

Improvement has been my middle name for the past two years at least. Frankly, it pays off when you listen to your beloved ones acknowledging the effort you've put in your improvement. It was a very long journey that I had to take on my own and I must say I'm so proud of myself.

However, some flaws of mine are impossible to change and I had to accept then embrace them.

First of all, I am so clumsy. It's a flaw I've had all my life and I'm unapologetically blaming the genetics. I know no one in my entire family is clumsy, but it's definitely genetics. I warn new friends about my clumsiness so they'd be mentally prepared to rescue me before falling or warn me before bumping into anything. There's no possible way to unsubscribe to Clumsiness Daily, but I'm accepting it. I'm not ashamed of it. Nobody seems to be annoyed by it, except for my family who keeps mocking it. (click here to read an article from last year about it)

Nummer zwei, since I was a kid, I couldn't focus properly. I've always daydreamed a lot, in the middle of classes, when anyone talked to me or basically at any time. I still do. But what I've learned through the fascinating Internet is that due to my attention deficiency, I tend to speak over people. Let me explain. I would be sitting with a bunch of people, discussing a topic. Then I'd zone out, think about a whole other topic. Then when I come back, not hearing the others, I talk about the new topic of mine, out of the blue, not paying attention at all. I generally don't intend to interrupt people, I don't do this because what I have to say is more important. I'm a little more aware now so; to minimize the harm, I try as much as I can to explain it beforehand, so that close people would expect it, understand and then move on. When it happens, I quickly apologize and tell them to resume, and gladly they get it so the conversation flows back again instantly. Some might suggest medications, but I can't do meds for a number of reasons, but that's for another article. 

My last embraced flaw is my terrible, terrible memory. This as well could be solved with meds, I know. What I do to tame it is that I organize everything more. Long- and short-term to-do lists, check-lists, putting everything in my calendar with multiple reminders, taking notes of everything, taking so many photos... It helps greatly. I mean, even if I'm just meeting my friends I put it on the calendar, if I'm ordering food I write it down, you can imagine..


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Eye Surgery

Minutes after the surgery

Hello there!

On the 7th of the last month, I had a Lasik eye surgery. Thank God! Finally!! I've always hated wearing glasses and I've even dedicated a whole article to talk about it, click here to read it.

A lot of my friends and acquaintances asked me about the details of the procedure and if it hurt or not. Weeeell, the following is purely my own experience that's probably different than yours. 

On the 6th, I casually went to the doctor to have a regular eye test, the one with the house picture and the E's. (see picture down below if you don't know what I mean, lucky bastard). Then we told him I wanted to get my eyes done and asked if it was possible. So I did a cornea test which is basically staring into a red light for some time until they scan  (is this the proper term?) my eyes. Individually, of course.

They don't display them all at once, but instead gradually, the bigger groups first.

This picture is displayed and it gets blurry on its own, I don't know what the device does, but it sure measures something!

Since my mother has a certain cornea shape that prevents her from having the surgery, I was so nervous I had it too and then couldn't do it. 

Later I had to see the doctor again so he'd tell me if I were illegible or not and then what type of surgery I should have. And since he had other surgeries, my mom called him to fix an appointment for the next day and I left.

The next day, when I was just about to get into the car, my mom told me "Oh did I forget to tell you? You're doing the surgery today!"

"What?! I thought we're going there to see which type and THEN to fix a date for the surgery."

"No, yesterday after you left I saw your doctor and agreed to have it by 5 pm." my mom said very casually.

I thought such surgeries took time to be planned or something. I expected at least to have it a week after the tests.

I waited at least an hour in the waiting room. Then they brought me to another, smaller waiting room where they got me prepared for the procedure.

I wore a hospital gown, a head and shoes covers. They put two rounds of two droplets in my eyes: anesthetics.

I forgot to mention, I was afraid of eye droplets. I couldn't even open my eyes for the first round.

Then, in the operation room, I lied down. There were strong white lightings before my eyes. They covered all my face but an eye and then put a metallic thing inside my eye to prevent me from blinking. Another droplet, they basically took advantage I couldn't close my eyes to do it. During the entire time (ten minutes), I had to fix my sight on a green light in between all the strong others and that was so painful to me. (a friend of mine found it pretty normal so it's probably just me).

The surgery itself has two parts. The first, as I saw it myself, consists of removing an incredibly fine part of the cornea with a scalpel. The second is basically applying the laser for 12 seconds. (for me it was 12, but my doctor told me it differs from a person to another)

I almost didn't feel the scalpel part, but the laser! Oh my God! I literally smelled my eyes burning. Definitely one of the scariest scents in my whole existence.

Now what I really appreciated about the team that conducted my surgery is that they were personal. In other words, they kept calling me by my name. "Do this, Samaa..". I've been to tons of dentists that didn't do that, so I don't know if it's the norm or if they were extra nice. And then the doctor kept telling me things like "You're doing great so far." and "Only three seconds left, hold on!"

After the surgery, everything was blurry. A terrible headache hit me, I couldn't bear it. When I talked, I didn't make much sense either. More waiting then the doctor checked again on my eyes. He gave me eye drops to apply hourly for the first day. No screens allowed, no eye make-up, no sprays near my eyes...

When I got home, I couldn't even bear the lights. I stayed in the darkness for the first night. No phone, no books, nothing.

Few hours later, I was in so much pain, I was literally screaming. My eyes were so dry. I put way too many eye drops. They burned at first, then sort of lubricated my eyes. I couldn't sleep from the pain plus the headache. But ended up sleeping somehow, I don't know how.

For the next week, I put antibiotic eye drops regularly. Four times a day for two days, then three times for two days..etc.

I was able to resume my normal life, few days after the surgery. I went outside after four days, even when my doctor told me I could be exposed to the sun two days after the surgery, I just didn't feel ready.  I started using my phone and laptop normally after three days.

The week after, it was some lubricating eye drops, three times a day. I have to admit, I wasn't pretty committed to those ones. And I'll try to do better from now on.

Last but not least, special thanks to my sister and Mayssara for texting people on my phone when I couldn't look at any screens at all. Thank you to all my friends who visited me when I couldn't do anything except stay in the total darkness. A final thank you for Alaa for entertaining me over the phone. 

Almost forget, thank you, Dana, for being with me before the surgery and tolerating my whinging! And thank you, Mahmoud, for sending me memes because I was scared like hell. 


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