4liyahmajidah

[4liyahmajidah]

A natural redhead 🤭

[4liyahmajidah]

“My Best Not Being Enough”: A Reflection on Trauma, Love, and the Struggle to Be Understood- Aliyah MAJIDAH

One reoccurring theme in my life right now is the feeling that my best just isn’t enough. No matter how hard I try — to love, to heal, to be honest, to grow — it often feels like the world, or the people closest to me, still tell me in one way or another: try harder. Or worse — you’re not doing enough. It’s a heartbreaking pattern I keep seeing, and I’m trying to make sense of it without letting it break me completely.

I went through some real, life-shaping traumatic events during my most formative years. Childhood is supposed to be when you’re nurtured, when your self is developing — but mine was shaped by pain, silence, and survival. And while I don’t wear that trauma like a badge or lean on it as an excuse, I can’t deny that it ripples through every part of my adult life. I try — really, really try — to heal. And not just in performative ways. I mean deeply, intentionally, even without a therapist. Not because I can’t afford one, but because, frankly, I don’t trust them. I’ve talked to “the lady” and that lady don’t know me. Most of them study trauma from a distance — like it’s a case study, not a lived experience. You can’t feel the way my soles are worn down until you’ve walked in my shoes. And that disconnect — that clinical barrier — just makes me feel more unseen.

When it comes to relationships, it gets even harder. People see me — see my smile, my joy, my presence — and they think, wow, this person is full of life. And I am, in my own way. But what they don’t always see is what it took for me to become this person. I’m not scared to show my flaws. I tell the truth about my past, about my pain, upfront. I give people context, not as a warning, but as a bridge — hoping they’ll understand me better. At first, they say they’re okay with it. But later on, it’s like the reality of my story becomes too much for them. They back away. They get frustrated. And I’m left feeling like I was honest, and still somehow not worth the effort.

That’s the part that gets to me. The defeat. The sense that no matter how vulnerable I am, or how real I keep it, it’s not enough. I’m not enough. Most of the time, it feels like people are trying to rush my healing — like there’s a deadline I didn’t agree to. I get the sense that they want me to be this perfectly healed, emotionally fluent version of myself right now. And when I’m not? They leave. Even when their pressure came from a place of care, it didn’t help me grow. It made me feel smaller. Less lovable.

And this isn’t just about one person or one relationship. It’s a bigger theme I’ve noticed: people want me for the good times, the surface-level laughs, the hookups or the convenience of casual connection. But when it comes to staying? When it comes to really riding the waves of who I am — flawed, healing, but real? That’s when they disappear. That’s when the excuses come. I’ve always been honest about what I come with. I’ve never tried to pretend I was perfect. But I also won’t shrink myself or twist who I am just to make someone else feel more comfortable. That’s not love. That’s performance I’m no actor.

Yes, I struggle with communication. But it’s not some surprising flaw that pops out of nowhere. It’s rooted in the trauma I’ve lived. I was raised in an environment where speaking up got me punished. Where vulnerability wasn’t met with compassion, but with consequence. So now, when I open up, it’s a radical act. Every time I speak my truth, it’s me choosing to rewire a belief that was planted in me as a child: that my voice doesn’t matter. That my feelings are dangerous. And that takes time. That takes trust.

I never expected anyone to fix me. I don’t need a savior. But I did hope for patience. For presence. For someone to see the effort I am making and not just the ways I’m still unlearning. I made sacrifices, even while I was struggling mentally and emotionally. I still showed up in the ways I could. Maybe it didn’t look perfect, but it was me trying. And to be told, directly or indirectly, that even that wasn’t enough — that I still wasn’t worth being with — that broke something in me.

And what breaks me more is how familiar that feeling is. The hopelessness. The sense that love is conditional. That I have to reach some invisible standard of “fixed” before anyone will really stay. That unless I’m easy, or fun, or totally healed, I’m not worth holding onto.

That’s what I’m sitting with. Not anger, not bitterness — just the rawness of being misunderstood. Of being abandoned, not for doing anything wrong, but for simply not being ready in the way others wanted me to be.

I don’t want pity. I don’t want applause. I just want to be seen — for who I am now, not for some potential version of me people are waiting on. I want someone to choose me, not in spite of my healing, but alongside it.

That’s all I’m saying.

[4liyahmajidah]

Hey I’m turning my written prompts into a podcast topics as well if you like my written prompts already you’ll definitely love it when I speak my mind - A raw, unfiltered dive into the cracks between what we’re told and what we know. The Gap Theory Podcast exposes the spaces where truth, experience, and intuition collide. Hosted by Aliyah Majidah (me) —this is revelation, revolution, and real shit.

[4liyahmajidah]

I’m not a dyke or masc!!!!! I’m androgynous 

[4liyahmajidah]

Every day I’m leaning more towards masc and nbs im not sorry

[4liyahmajidah]

I really got a second job to support my trickin habits

[4liyahmajidah]

( . )( . ) eyes are up here

[4liyahmajidah]

It was hot but not as hot as me

[4liyahmajidah]

Ain’t no winning in this smh

[4liyahmajidah]

why is it such a buzzkill to y’all to speak on current events

[4liyahmajidah]

On or off ?

[4liyahmajidah]

What a week (it’s Monday)

[4liyahmajidah]

I hate when you tell someone that they’re beautiful. They immediately think that you want to get into a relationship with them like girl can you relax? Now you just piss me clean the fuck off just say thank you and keep it pushing.

[4liyahmajidah]

Do you have any kinks?

peace and quiet

[4liyahmajidah]

I have to laugh — I hate to say it, but the average American is as sentient as hamburger meat

[4liyahmajidah]

"You should read history and look at ostracism, persecution, martyrdom, and that kind of thing. They always happen to the best men, you know." — George Eliot

This prompt is for my niggas that need a new way of thinking. Don’t you hate boneless advice? Boneless advice meaning: advice from mfs who don’t know what it takes to survive and still keep peace close to them—because if they don’t, they’d lose their mind. How do you navigate through that?

Don’t ask me either. Imma keep it real with you: I don’t know.

But I do know this—after I placed boundaries for the first time, I lost some people. And no, I’m not mourning. I don’t mourn over the loss of disrespect. Fuck them. Nigga, this is a celebration.

We are celebrating being a proud ostrich.

Today’s lesson for my online cousins is: ostracization is a form of protection.

As long as I’ve been alive, I’ve been ostracized. We can go physical—as far as having eczema, having a gap, having beautiful ancestral features that people who hold white supremacy to its hip cannot stand. Being dark-skinned. Having melanin in the gums. That type of shit, you know?

We can go mental—as far as your peers not being able to relate to you because the trauma that you’ve endured has grown you up. The problems that you go through are far more advanced than your peers’ problems. Always talking to older people ’cause they’re the only ones that get it. I can go on and on…

But lo and behold, this is not a pity party. Again, this is a celebration.

Again: ostracization is protection. Because what you went through is not something a follower goes through. And no, this is not trauma porn. This is not suffer porn.

Me personally—I do not believe that suffering makes you better. No one deserves to suffer.

I will say: if you’re being ostracized—whether it’s from your school, work, family—they see something in you that they just cannot stand. They see something in you that'll make someone so jealous that they cannot sit with themselves. So they’re going to try to belittle you. Of course. They’re going to try to make fun of the clothes you wear. They’re going to try to make fun of your hobbies and your pleasures and how you view the world.

Of course. Of course.

I say it’s protection because they know they’re in a fucked-up-ass place. And when they look at you— you being you— you are closer to freedom than they are. And they cannot stand it.

Of course they’re going to make fun of you for it. It’s protection in a sense—they’re keeping you out of the herd.

You don’t need to be in a herd. You do not need to have a hive mindset.

You can look up articles and stuff like that, and they’ll say: “Throughout time, humans are stronger in groups.” I’m convinced that’s because they only interviewed the groups.

Where are the ostracized members of society?

Most of their story doesn’t get told.

There’s power in ostracization. Because people are noticing that there’s something special about you.

And let’s be real—if they could access it, they would. If they had the capacity to hold the weight you carry with grace, they would. But they don’t. So instead, they try to flip your light into something shameful, make you doubt it, disconnect you from it. That’s why I say it’s protection. They was never supposed to sit with you. You was never meant to be digestible.

I used to think being left out meant something was wrong with me. Now I realize being left out was Spirit’s way of keeping me sacred.

Ain’t nobody mourning over fake connection. Ain’t nobody crying over being too real to fit in. We not doing that no more.

This is for anybody who ever felt like the weirdo, the too-much one, the “you think you better” one—nah, you just see clearer. You feel deeper. You walk different. That makes people uncomfortable. Let them squirm.

You wasn’t made to blend in. You was made to break patterns.

So if you’re on the outside—stay there. That’s where the visionaries are. That’s where the healers are. That’s where the ancestors whisper louder. That’s where the freedom starts.

Ostracized? Good. That means they couldn’t keep up with you.

Celebrate that.

this is soul food

[4liyahmajidah]

This was pretty much the movie twilight