messegesforyou

[messegesforyou]

Right now, I don’t feel great. I wouldn’t say I’m frustrated, angry, or upset—I’m just sad.

If I dig deeper, I can trace this feeling back to a specific moment. It all started when I was trying to open the door to my sister’s building. She’s out of the country, and I was on my way to water her plants. While struggling to figure out how to unlock the door, my mom called. She told me we needed to pick up my brother’s contact lenses and hand them over to my aunt, who would pass them on to my aunt's daughter-in-law, since they live in the same country.

It was then that everything started feeling overwhelming. I had to drive to get the lenses, it was insanely hot even though it was night, and I really wanted to work and get things done.

Then, my thoughts drifted to him. Why hasn’t he bothered to check in on me, ask how I’m doing with my new job? He just vanished, like always. I realized I’m better off now, less obsessed with him.

But then, my mind went further—trying to analyze the situation. I found myself imagining my product manager angry at me for something so trivial-like the fact that I added comments in Figma. I saw him liking a post in the channel, but ignoring my messages. And then, I found out he really did speak to my manager about it.

For a moment, I thought, “I don’t want to stay here. I don’t want to go back to my old company. I want to disconnect from everyone I know and just work on something where no one knows me.”

Now, I feel worse because of all these thoughts. I’m trying to process the emotions, but I can’t fully understand why I feel this way. What the hell happened to make me feel like this?

[messegesforyou]

Aug 6th, 2025

Reflecting on the past year feels like looking at a completely different life. Around this time last year, I was watching videos I recorded back then, and it’s amazing how much has changed. Last year, I was in survival mode, trying to recover from the emotional whirlwind of a relationship that I had invested so heavily in. Back in August, I was still in denial, pushing for something that the other side had already let go of, which left me feeling pretty miserable.

On top of that, my sister’s wedding preparations added another layer of stress. It was a hectic time, trying to be there for her and making sure everything went smoothly. Meanwhile, I was still finding my footing as a product manager, and it was only my fourth month leading my own squad. Navigating that dynamic with the engineers was definitely challenging.

Fast forward to today, and things are looking so much brighter. I’ve come to terms with the past and fully embraced the present. I’m at a new company now, working on something that feels promising and exciting. My sister is happily married, and I’ve got my own space now, which is a game changer. Mentally, I’m in such a better place. There are still challenges, of course, but I’m grateful to have moved past that difficult chapter.

[messegesforyou]

Navigating the First Day at an Old-School Workplace

Today marked my first day at Beyond Limits, and let’s just say it felt like stepping into a time capsule. The company operates on a strict 9-to-6 schedule with a mandatory hour-long break. There’s no wiggle room to start early or stay late; the earliest you can begin is 8:30, and you have to be done by 5:30. The whole atmosphere feels like a throwback to a different era, and not necessarily in a charming way.

What really struck me was the old-school approach to everything, from taking leave to internal communication. Need a sick day? That requires a 48-hour advance email to your manager, with HR copied in, and then HR manually enters it into their system. On top of that, they use Microsoft Teams and the free version of Slack. Honestly, it’s a bit maddening—just get the premium version already! It’s little things like this that start to drive you crazy and make you second-guess your decisions. I even found myself regretting turning down another offer where I would have been a QA Lead. It’s a tough pill to swallow, but I’m trying to keep an open mind. Maybe there’s an opportunity here, a chance to learn something new or gain a different perspective. But I’m also worried about being influenced by this dated culture and losing some of the progress I’ve made. It’s a delicate balance, and I’m still figuring out how to protect my mindset and keep moving forward.

[messegesforyou]

I Chose Myself. And That Changed Everything.

Today, I sat in my therapy session and felt something I hadn’t felt in a long time: peace. Not because life got easier. Not because I finally “made it.” But because I finally stopped performing. I’m proud of who I’ve become—and more importantly, who I’m still becoming.

I recently made a big shift. I left product management and returned to quality engineering. On paper, maybe that looks like going backward. But for me, it’s exactly the opposite. I’m walking back into something that I once felt confident about—but this time with clarity, purpose, and no need to prove anything. I’m not starting over. I’m building forward.

In five years, I see myself thriving as a Software Engineer in Test. Building something that screams Shatha. Not some abstract company mission. Not some title. Just something honest. Something real. Something mine.

And even though the road to this moment was messy, I’m grateful for every step of it.

This company—this wild, chaotic, intense company—broke me in ways I didn’t expect. I had fights. I felt stressed beyond reason. I burned out, full-on, no filter. But I also grew. I learned. I loved. I compromised for that love. Maybe too much. But even that taught me something. Something no job title ever could.

And through all the noise, I found something worth protecting: myself.

I met people who loved me, who cared, who saw me. I was helpful to others. I know I left a mark. But the most important part? I didn’t lose myself trying to fit into someone else’s system. I chose to be me. Loudly. Quietly. Stubbornly. Softly. All of it.

I didn’t pick sides in any drama or politics. I stuck to my version of the truth, the one that lets me sleep at night. I chose learning over money. Integrity over performance reviews. Myself over the company’s growth. And every time I made that choice, I won.

I owned what was mine. I got things done. I made things work. I did it my way—and it turns out, that’s rare. Most people are too busy proving themselves to be themselves. But me? I’ve found power in showing up as I am.

And I like who I am. I really do.

I love how I think.

I love how I express myself.

I love how I figure things out.

I’m proud of my thoughts, my clarity, my weirdness, my edge.

And for all of that, I’m grateful. Deeply.

I can’t wait to see what comes next. I manifest my future boldly: In five years, I’m in Qatar. With my husband. With twins—a boy and a girl. I don’t know when it will happen. I don’t need to. What I know is I’m on the path. My path. And I trust it.

This isn’t a story of quitting. It’s a story of choosing. Choosing myself, again and again. Even when it doesn’t make sense to others. Even when it’s hard.

So yeah. I’m grateful. I’m proud. I’m alive. And I’m not done.

[messegesforyou]

It’s day three of unemployment—voluntary unemployment, let’s be clear. A break I took for myself. No pressure, no deadlines, no meetings. Just me, and… silence.

And damn, silence is loud.

When you’re someone who thrives on momentum, achievement, and having “something to do,” boredom is a weird monster. It’s not just about being idle. It drags out every hidden doubt, forces you into mental loops, makes you question your entire roadmap.

It’s not the first time either. Even during short breaks like Eid, this pattern shows up. The moment I unplug, my mind spirals—“Did I make the right call?” “Was quitting smart?” “What if they’re growing now without me?” All that mental junk I never get to process when I’m in motion… it surfaces, ugly and raw.

But then I remember: that place was stress on steroids. I left because I needed to breathe. I needed something that doesn’t drain me daily. And I’ve seen this pattern before. People who left landed in places they now thrive in. I’m not the exception. I’m just in the in-between.

Still, the quiet sucks. It gives space to think, but also space to feel. And not all feelings are welcome guests. It’s like my mind is detoxing and the withdrawal symptoms are mental noise.

I’m holding out hope that once the new job starts, things will settle. I’ll be busy again. Distracted. Focused. But maybe, just maybe, I’ll take this time to sit with the discomfort, instead of sprinting past it.

This isn’t just boredom. It’s emotional residue from months of surviving.

And it’s trying to teach me something.

[messegesforyou]

I really wish my dad was here.

To see what I’ve reached.

To ground me when I start floating too high—or sinking too low.

To give me that logical, sharp perspective I know I’m missing.

To praise me when I actually do something good…

To challenge me when I settle for less.

My family is doing their best.

They show up.

They support in the way they know how.

But they’re not candid.

They’re not confrontational.

They’re not the type to say “well done” or “that wasn’t it.”

They just go with it. And I keep going too.

But it feels like something’s missing.

I miss having someone I could be an idiot in front of.

No filters. No pressure. Just me.

I miss being seen in my rawest form and still being directed, not judged.

I miss you, Dad. More than words cover.

I wish you were here.

الله يرحمك حبيبي ويعفو عنك.

[messegesforyou]

I think my tears now are not because Im missing the place but because I feel hurt from this company in a way that i really wanna move apart from it

It is getting heavy on me that even breaks are not enough to keep me sane

[messegesforyou]

I think I’ve been running from something for a while — and I just saw its face.

It wasn’t a person or a role. It was a version of myself I kept dodging.

I’ve been avoiding the parts of work that require speaking the language of higher-ups. I’ve been shying away from the sharp, filtered way of communicating that leaders use — the kind that’s intentional, thought-out, strategic. I’ve resisted roles like QA lead or any kind of leadership position, not because I wasn’t capable technically, but because I wasn’t ready to face this version of me — the one who thinks clearly, speaks decisively, and influences with intention.

I thought I hated the politics.

I thought I wasn’t interested in the title.

I told myself I just liked “getting things done.”

But deep down, it was fear. Fear of sounding dumb. Fear of not getting it right. Fear of not being executive enough.

Now I’m starting to realize — this isn’t just a skill I need for a title. It’s a skill I need for myself. To be able to clear my thoughts, organize them, and articulate them in a way that lands. To stop rambling and start delivering. To stop hiding in “busy work” and start owning conversations that shape direction.

I’m not there yet. But I saw the face. I recognized it. And I know what I need to build now.

Not just communication.

Executive clarity.

[messegesforyou]

For the New Beginnings

I’ve decided to move back to my previous career path.

It might sound like a big shift — like it took me months of overthinking to get here. But it didn’t. It took me 10 minutes. 10 minutes of honesty. Then I started acting on it.

Leaving a place after three years isn’t easy. This decision wasn’t light. But it was necessary. I’ve hit a point where what I’m doing now no longer excites me — it drains me. I’ve outgrown it. I’m no longer doing a better job by staying. In fact, staying is starting to hurt more than help.

So I’m choosing to start over. From scratch. With full focus on who I want to be and how I position myself going forward.

This next journey isn’t going to be easier. But it’s already more exciting. It brings back the fire I’ve been missing. I’m walking into it with more patience, more resilience, and more self-trust — all things I earned the hard way from where I am today.

Before I close this chapter, I’ve got some things I need to finish properly. Some work to wrap. Some people to thank. Some lessons to write down.

But mentally, I’ve already stepped into what’s next.

And this time, I’m doing it for me.

[messegesforyou]

The Moment Before the Leap

I’m writing this not because I figured it out - but because I haven’t.

I’m in between two worlds right now. The one I’m walking out of - Calo - and the one I’m about to step into. And while it might sound like I’m making a bold move, it doesn’t feel like that. It feels shaky. Messy. Full of conflicting signals.

Yes, I made the decision to leave. But my mind hasn’t completely signed off. There’s still that loop playing in the background: are you sure? What if this isn’t better? What if you just traded one set of problems for another - but lost all the comfort in the process?

Because here’s the truth:

I made mistakes - even in this new leap.

Mistakes I made accepting the new job:

• I didn’t challenge the QA manager enough. I didn’t ask how he handles critical team dynamics like engineers pushing junk to QA without testing. That was a red flag I ignored.

• I didn’t push HR on the salary. I just said yes - probably too fast, without properly weighing what this company is actually offering.

• I didn’t study the company like I should’ve. I saw the AI buzzwords and ignored the cracks.

So no, this wasn’t a perfect decision. And I’m not pretending it was.

But leaving Calo wasn’t random either. That place - as much as I grew - became heavy. The constant contradictions, the fights masquerading as alignment sessions, the chaos dressed up as “fast-paced.” And maybe more than anything else: I started feeling like I was doing everything right and still couldn’t win. That kind of grind chips at your confidence in ways no one talks about.

But I’m not walking away with bitterness. I’m walking away with a toolkit. Calo taught me things I’m not unlearning.

What Calo gave me:

• Manage expectations - especially with leadership. Don’t assume they know what you’re thinking or what you need.

• Build relationships, but don’t deepen them recklessly. Keep your circle intentional.

• Say no more often. Ask why until things actually make sense.

• Trust is earned, not granted. And it’s okay to take your time.

• Don’t shit where you eat.

• Set boundaries. You’re not being paid to kill yourself.

• Invest in yourself outside of work. One weekend at a time.

• Give time to the people who matter. Work is not your identity.

• Don’t let people trigger you. They don’t deserve that kind of access to your nervous system.

• Have real 1:1s with your manager. Set expectations before they’re set for you.

• Be proactive, but not a martyr.

• Stay smart. Stay focused. Don’t drift.

• Stay curious. Stay authentic. That’s your edge.

• Use your power: product sense, AI skills, customer empathy - that’s your toolkit.

• Always sell the impact, not just the tasks.

• Avoid the noise. Negativity isn’t strategy.

• Leave like a pro. When you handover, hand over who you are.

• Keep calm. Stay grounded in data. That’s your shield.

And yet, despite everything I’ve learned, I’m still scared.

Scared of switching jobs.

Scared of walking into a company that uses Microsoft Teams - yes, that alone gives me anxiety.

Scared that if their next deal falls through, we all fall with it.

But I’m also excited.

This new role is about AI and automation testing. It’s what I used to love before product management distracted me with strategy and stakeholder games. I miss the deep work. I want to be technically strong again. I want to build.

Every night, I sit with this tension.

I’m not sure if I’m panicking because we’re almost there - or because something deeper in me is warning me.

I’m not sure if this doubt is protection - or sabotage.

But I’ve been here before.

In 2020, when I left for Knowledge AI - same anxiety, same chaos, same voice whispering maybe you’re not ready.

And guess what? I was.

So if I’m ever back in this place again - second-guessing, spiraling, questioning my choices - I want to remember this version of me. The one who didn’t wait for perfect clarity to make a move. The one who didn’t let fear win.

This isn’t my first time being afraid.

It won’t be my last.

But at least now I know - I can move anyway

[messegesforyou]

What’s your “endgame”?

What are you borderline overconfident about?

What would you want to do if you knew you’d be successful at it?

What’s your fighting style?

What outfit would you wear every day if no one noticed you were repeating it?

What do you mindlessly collect?

What’s your favorite time of day? (The literal time, like 12:34 PM)

What’s your alter ego?

What traits do you share or not share with your parents or siblings?

What usually takes people a long time to figure out about you?

[messegesforyou]

I’m listening to a podcast by a psychology professor — he’s a psychiatrist I’ve been a fan of since 2015, back when I was in my third year of school. He was talking about relationships, and something about what he said really resonated with me.

It got me reflecting on the only real relationship I’ve had. And I realized — I need to make peace with it. I don’t want to distort it or ruin the beautiful parts just to protect myself. There’s no need to label it as good or bad. We were just in different stages of life. And that’s okay.

We’re never going to be together again. He’s a close friend now, not a partner — and he never will be. But this relationship taught me a lot. And I want to carry those lessons with me, like I always try to do — with maturity and self-awareness.

So thank you, really. And please… let’s close this chapter.

[messegesforyou]

Okay, so he’s been on my mind for a while now. We’re in the middle of the Eid vacation, and he’s constantly on my mind because I didn’t get any message from him. I’m holding myself back so hard from sending him anything. I really want to talk to him, to call him, to just laugh and be silly like we used to. I miss the lightness and joy of those moments. But I know I shouldn’t. And I’m doing everything I can not to make it happen.

Even though our relationship lasted only two months, it felt so intense and meaningful that it seems like it was much longer. I gave so much emotionally during that time, and now I’m just sitting with the weight of it all. I know I need to move on. I know he’s just a regular person, not as great as I made him out to be in my head. But it’s been hard to give myself the space to heal. I miss the connection we had—our conversations, our laughter, and the love that we shared. It’s tough because I still have feelings for him, but I know he probably doesn’t feel the same. It’s painful, and I’m just trying to figure out how to move forward and find love again, real love. I want that part of me to feel fulfilled again, and I haven’t been able to find it yet.

[messegesforyou]

I found that I’m that person who is not into writing because I’m beautifying my ideas, I’m beautifying my thoughts, and I’m not being honest when I do so. So I saw that when I share my ideas or thoughts or what I’m thinking of out loud, I can spot the flaws, I can spot the defects, I can spot what I’m thinking honestly, clearly.

And I found also that—like, that’s a finding, yeah?—the other finding is I don’t know what it should be called, but I found that I don’t really enjoy when I visit new places. For example, now I’m in the city with my sister and my mom, and at the beginning, I wasn’t vibing with them. Now I’ve become a bit chill, and you know, it’s now down, it’s after sunset, like Maghrib, and I feel like I’m a bit chill now, like I’m ready to start having conversations with them, but before I couldn’t. And that’s another thing that I found: it takes me a little longer to get the vibe and enjoy what I’m in when I travel or visit new places or whatever. It takes me time to adapt.

That’s the second. Third is basically, I do really want him to message me. I’m really upset that I didn’t get Eid celebration from him, and I prayed so hard. Like, I asked God, ‘God, please don’t let him send me a message.’ I really want him to send me a message, but I feel it’s wise to not get a message from him, and I’m not planning to send him a message. That’s the third thing. And yesterday I saw a picture of us where I found that I really miss the love that I used to get from him, but I have to move on, I have to proceed. I’m not sure when I will find love, but I need to delegate that to God. He’s the only one who knows when is the right time.

Fourth thing is I want to travel, but I’m not sure where. It might be a solo travel, so I might go to Georgia or spend some adventures in Oman, but adventures require a partner, like it’s fun to have a partner or someone, like a friend or something. But this time I’ll be on my own, so I’m a bit hesitant between going to Georgia or Oman. And I feel I really want to work also. I was thinking, okay, I’ll go to Georgia and I’ll work from there for a week, and then spend the next week just, you know, surfing or doing stuff. But yeah, that’s all what I have in my mind

[messegesforyou]

Not sure what to call this phase of my life.

Maybe I shouldn’t name it at all. Maybe this is just… motion. Transition without chaos.

A quiet restructuring.

It’s not breaking down—it’s the cleanup.

The part where things didn’t explode but still left a mess behind.

I’m functioning.

I’m working.

I’m growing.

But underneath that, I’m holding myself together with thread and willpower.

Boundaries are no longer optional.

I’m learning to say no to things I used to carry without question—especially the things that feel like work but aren’t part of my job.

Especially the emotional weight I never signed up for.

There’s one mess in particular I’m trying to wipe clean.

A relationship that lasted just two months, but burned hard and fast.

It’s easy to call it a fling, but let’s not sugarcoat it.

It was emotionally intense. For me, at least.

Too much, too soon. Too many feelings. Not enough stability.

And now, silence.

I gave it weight.

He didn’t.

I imagined softness and depth.

He gave inconsistency and charm.

Everything revolved around him—his timing, his wants, his comfort zone.

Mine? Optional.

I kept thinking maybe he just doesn’t know how to love.

But the truth is—he just didn’t love me. Not enough to try. Not enough to care properly.

Not enough to be honest.

And it’s not that he couldn’t show up. He just… didn’t.

He wasn’t brave enough to end it cleanly.

So he ghosted. Then came back. Then disappeared again.

A cycle built on crumbs and confusion.

And I kept picking up those crumbs like they meant something.

But he doesn’t deserve me.

And this voice in my head—the one that still wonders what I did wrong, if I scared him off, if I could’ve fixed it—is lying to me.

He didn’t make me feel safe.

He didn’t make me feel chosen.

He didn’t make me feel seen.

So I’m done replaying it.

Done editing the story to make him look better than he was.

Done trying to make meaning out of someone who didn’t make the effort.

This isn’t about grief.

It’s about clarity.

This isn’t heartbreak.

It’s the aftermath.

And I’m moving forward

[messegesforyou]

the guilt that comes with rest

i took the day off. sounds simple. but it felt weird—like something invisible grabbed my ankle and started pulling me down the second i reminded myself i’m off today.

yeah, technically off. but work? it’s screaming in the back of my head, like an alarm i can’t switch off. every slack notification, every mental tab of that long ass to-do list… it’s like i created the perfect system to punish myself.

suddenly, everyone is either stupid or intimidating. i’m either above it all or beneath it all. no in-between. i open slack, i close it. i scroll, i judge. i spiral.

then comes the real kicker: the never-ending list. like no matter how much i try, nothing gets scratched off. nothing ends. just keeps piling. every idea feels too big. every task too small to matter. and together, they just cancel each other out.

so, i tried a change of scenery. went to a cool workspace. new walls, new air. hoping something shifts.

maybe if i keep showing up here, this relationship with work becomes less toxic. maybe the guilt fades. maybe the anxiety learns to sit quietly in the corner instead of screaming in my face.

but right now? i honestly don’t know. i’m tired of not knowing.

[messegesforyou]

I loved deeply.

And I’m not gonna run from that or pretend it didn’t happen. It was real. It mattered. It shaped something in me. But what I won’t keep doing is romanticizing someone who didn’t know what to do with that love.

He wasn’t bad. He just wasn’t whole. Not ready. Not present. And definitely not capable of giving me what I needed.

Closure? He sucked at it.

Presence? Spotty.

Priorities? I wasn’t one.

I kept painting him better than he was, holding on to this version of him I built in my head. That illusion? That’s what made leaving hard. But now I see it clearly: it was always about him. His moods, his timing, his needs. I handed over control—of the pace, the emotion, the depth—and sat quietly waiting for him to meet me where I already was. He never did.

Enough.

I’ve outgrown that passiveness.

I won’t shrink again just to fit into someone’s “maybe.”

Whoever comes next better be damn sure of himself, and sure of me too.

No confusion. No games. No emotional half-presence. Just two grown humans who know the value of real connection.

This chapter? It’s done. I’m not bitter. I’m not broken.

Just… ready for something that matches my depth