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my parents aren’t teaching me life lessons.

#i need some adults to TEACH ME SHIT ABOUT LIFE

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Psychological projection is a theory in psychology in which [oppressors] defend themselves against their own negative qualities by denying the existence of those qualities within themselves, while attributing those same negative qualities to others.

For example, a habitually bigoted white person may constantly accuse black people of being “reverse” racists. Projection, sometimes called transference, shifts blame and responsibility to the victims of racism.

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i hope youre all lying and hyping your cv/resume’s up

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Me, looking back at how many books i used to read: I love that bitch, she was going places.

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And no disrespect to Ocasio-Cortez, but that’s not a McMansion. It’s like a basic ass house. This is proof that she’s terrifying the establishment (on both sides of the political spectrum). Her clapbacks are giving me life. She is such a bright spot in an ocean of bad news.

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Red MAGA hats are the first dead giveaway. And the people saying “it’s just their opinion, let them speak” are the ones who would have looked the other way.

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“Always check your inner state with the lord of your heart.” -Rumi • Moti Masjid. Lahore, Pakistan. (Instagram: aabbiidd)

Youtube

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Be like the wind that flows through this world, but never gets attached to it.

— Mobeen Hakeem

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درد

my dear when i tell you how the world is not permanent nor anything in it I am trying to tell you that the ache in your heart is just as temporary as the temporary world that caused it

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You neglect your five prayers

You miss your daily recitation

You forget to do the zhikr of Allah

You continue to do sin while your heart

yearns for nothing but Allah

You forget your Creator,

the Creator that never forgets you

Have you forgotten what your life was created for?

Now you lay there, tossing and turning, wondering why peace escapes you.

O slave, you’re breaking your own heart.

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First time in a long time

I’m not sure what’s going on with my tumblr these days. Not sure who is following me or who I am following. A lot has changed since I joined tumblr. But I noticed I never do any text posts anymore. Not sure how long it’s been since I’ve written anything. So I guess here it goes.

Story time:

My best friend encouraged me to take a tour of Europe with her. I agreed but now with only a few days left until departure, I’m freaking out. I will have to leave my daughter in the care of her grandparents and her father. This is the longest time I will be apart from her since she was born. I know she will be ok, so here is to praying that I will also be ok. Ever since I became a Mom I have been told that no matter what I do in life, I will always be a mother. I feel like I’ve been tied to this label and unfortunately I often feel like it takes a huge chunk of me with it. It’s weird, but I am also well aware that it is because I was raised in the west that I assume the label of being a mother is negative. Here’s the differnce: when I hear people say you will always be a mother I hear ‘you are a mother and nothing else’. But the reality is ‘you are a mother and everything else as well’.

Being a Mom is one part of me and it’s been feeling as if it has become the whole of me. Here’s to praying that this Europe tour and spending time with myself will help me connect with everything else that I am.

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Islam isn’t reserved for the pious. For those who pray, fast and donate. For those who outwardly comply with what a Muslim “should” look like. It’s for the broken too. For the sinners. For the drinkers. For the smokers. For the lost. For those waiting to be found. It’s for every single human soul waiting for a way out of their despair. Don’t make this religion secluded to the self-righteous, when in reality it’s an open house for anyone seeking to find themselves- and God.

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I wish I put as much effort into my life as Phil Collins did into the Tarzan soundtrack

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i observe men in silence, how they leave plates on dining room tables, how they slam doors, how they take up whole couch with legs sprawled and lounging arms, how they do not filter speech, too confident, too loud. voices always violent, everything a war.  

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I sat before God and wondered, “how do I know that You love me, when I attempt to find my love for You?”. The response came quietly:

God is found by the one who seeks, and seeking, itself, is from God.