The Life of a Nomad

Do you know what I’m most afraid of?


Growing up, I didn’t really have much stability. My parents were together on and off and we moved a lot. Like, a hell of a lot. I’m now 22 years old and I’ve moved at least 23-25 times in my life. Granted, it’s slowed down plenty but it’s still just too many times. Hence, I call myself a nomad.

Anyhoo, we’re currently in the process of moving – ONCE AGAIN. And it’s been tiring. But when you’ve moved as many times as we have, you tend to get the knack of it and become way more efficient with it. Regardless, I’m quite excited about this move.

Firstly, our new landlord has promised us a long-term lease (not everyone can afford to buy, you know). And secondly, when I do FINALLY get married, #bae will be joining me there. And I honestly can’t wait for that. Not for the reasons most will think. It’s just I’ve finally found someone who’s company I truly enjoy and it sucks like all hell when he has to go home. My little heart can’t deal. People have asked me – on numerous occasions – how it’s possible that I don’t get sick of him. It’s such a strange question to ask because when you marry someone, you’re in their face like 24/7. How can you possibly “get sick of someone” with whom you plan to spend the rest of your life. Doesn’t make sense to me…

Oh and it doesn’t hurt that this is my new room…


Can’t wait to start making it my own. I wonder if #bae will mind it being a little girly, since I’ve never really had the opportunity to make a room my own. I’ll probably be trolling some decor blogs for ideas…Suggestions?


So the funny thing about me starting a blog is that I decided to do it to get rid of all the thoughts floating around in my head because it’s become quite crowded in there. Yet I find myself struggling to choose what to write about.

My mind is in constant turmoil lately…

It’s as if each and every thought is fighting for dominance over my brain. To be the one thought I fixate on for some time. It’s literally given me a headache. I just need to get away from it all and relax, clear my mind. But that’s impossible too.

Isn’t responsibility a bitch? All I want to do is curl up in a little ball and have someone else take care of me and everything else. Just for a little while, so I can regain my sanity.

Like I understand that I’m no longer a little girl and shit is definitely getting real but GEEZ, a break would be great. I am so beat and totally uninspired. I JUST NEED A BREAK.



In 2012, my family and I moved to a block of flats (in one of our many moves – we are like nomads). This is where I met Zayn.

You know, sometimes you come across someone who has the potential to change the entire course of your life but at that exact moment in time, neither of you are ready for it. This is exactly what happened to us. And then somehow he found his way back to me and this time, we were ready.

Back then we were both young and immature and to be very honest, I was kinda annoyed by him – and I tell him so all the time now. I was naive and the attention flattered me, and I thought he was full of himself and that maybe I was just another girl to him. So for a week or so, we enjoyed each others company until he suddenly broke away. I had no idea then what it was about but I just moved along as though nothing happened.

Then last year, a week after my 21st birthday, his mom messaged mine to congratulate her and wish me. She mentioned him in her messages which I found rather random although I knew that even back then she liked me and wanted us to be together. So that night my mom and I went to movies and as we’re waiting for the movie to start I get this Whatsapp notification  – “Salaam stranger, happy belated birthday. Sorry it’s now only but I didn’t have your number”. The reason I’ve quoted it as is, is because this message was a pivotal moment in my life whether I realized it then or not. His mom had given him my number and told him to wish me for my birthday. According to him, that was his only intention…mmm I’m sure it was!

We started texting and as most of you know, that’s one of the best parts of a budding relationship. The first thing you do when you wake up in the morning is check your phone because you just know there’ll be a cute “good morning” message and the conversation just never dies out. Its thrilling, even more so when its unexpected.


The more we chatted, the more we realized we were at the same point in our lives and that we wanted the same things. To settle down, get married. He has a four-year old son and I told him in the beginning already that I was okay with it. I love children and besides, I can’t judge him for the things he’s done in his past.

Anyway, the month of Ramadhan was approaching and we decided we would wait until after to actually meet up again. It was torturous but we endured it and survived.

So the 25th of July 2015, on a Saturday, he came over for the day. A novice cook, but eager to impress him, I made his favorite food: Butter Chicken Curry. And for a first attempt, it was delicious! Apparently, he was sold. He visited me every weekend after that. We clicked so easily. He was a totally different person to the one I knew back then and I was completely enamored.

Let me tell you, he is handsome as hell. He has these beautiful eyes, framed by the most unnecessarily long eyelashes, flawless eyebrows, the cutest nose, perfect full lips and of course, a beard. As if his ways wasn’t attractive enough??? I know he’ll be reading this so yes, I do think you’re the most handsome, cutest and sweetest ever. But that’s just my opinion.


So on the 18th of August, after a month of getting to know one another, we made it official. We were “dating”. This is not actually allowed in Islam but hey, nobody is perfect. Anyhow, after a few months of dating, he introduced me to his son. He is absolutely adorable and the spitting image of his dad. Its taken him a while to get used to me but he seems to be warming up to me. We have some issues with the mother but I knew it would come to that and was always prepared to deal with it.

I have never experienced a relationship like this EVER. Where we are so accepting of one another and we deal with things together – even the arguments (and yes there are quite a few) don’t FEEL like arguments. If you could see the way we were with each other you would think we’ve been married for years. The ease in which we communicate, the affection and the way we care about one another. It’s as if we’ve straightened out all the kinks before we’ve even begun. God willing, it will ALWAYS be this way and perhaps increase. I feel so blessed to have someone who truly understands me and knows me better than I know myself. Someone who helps me deal with my struggles, who encourages me to better myself, to look after myself and someone who sometimes takes care of it all for me. I honestly can’t see myself with anyone else and I know that I will always feel this way about him.

This is what a relationship should be like. I hope and pray that God will keep us this way always and that the love and respect we have for one another will only grow as we do.


A Walking Contradiction

My Instagram bio states that “I Am A Walking Contradiction”. This is true.


This quote is so entirely me that it’s scary.

A lot of the attitude and vibe I tend to give off comes from growing up the way I did (will discuss this in another post). I have this tough chick facade that if you really knew me, you’d know is furthest from the truth. I’m the softest person EVER. I cry for the most ridiculous reasons- silly adverts on TV, the books I read – just about anything sets me off. As soft as I am though, I am strong as hell. I’ve been and am still going through so much and yet I’m still here and mostly sane.

I was raised to be tough, not a crybaby or a girly girl and apparently my soft edges has disappointed some but I’ve learn that it’s a good thing. Being soft I mean.


Women are mocked for being soft and emotional but I don’t think the world realizes the strength of a woman. We endure so much in our lives yet we are the backbone of our families, communities and the world in general.

But, I digress. I love pretty, girly things and yet also am a gamer and car enthusiast. I enjoy ALL types of music. As in everything and anything from Classical to raw, deep Rap. I love nature yet I would do anything to stay indoors with a thick book and yummy cuppa coffee (coffee is life). I’ve always craved affection but when faced with it, I never know how to deal or react.

I always tell people I have lazy persons OCD. I want things to be perfect all the time and MOST of the time I strive to keep it that way but the rest of the time? I don’t really care.

I’m always just a little too weird but I’ve learnt that being normal is boring. So be crazy, have fun and always, ALWAYS, be yourself ♥



First blog post

For my first post, I’ve decided to set the tone for whats to come…

Last night I went to supper with my family and as we waited outside to get in, I noticed a group of girls. They were GORGEOUS.  The kind of girls that would make any average Jane cringe in inferiority. Perfect hair, make up #OnFleek and their clothing looking like they stepped out of a Cosmopolitan magazine.

I stood there comparing myself to them…

My plain white tee shirt, black skinny jeans, sneakers and of course my hijab – their short dresses and sexy high heels. At first I was envious – they were dressed exactly as I would if I had the body for it and more so, if I didn’t care about my Islam – and that little green monster sat right there on my shoulder, whispering nasty things in my ear. And because I was standing there with my ridiculously handsome fiance, it flared up even more. My insecurities bulldozed me all at once. Until I started noticing their discomfort. Pulling their dresses down to cover up a bit after some creepy stares, fixing their hair every two minutes just in case the guy across the way noticed them and constantly looking at their reflection in the windows they stood in front of. THEIR insecurities showed through and I realized that compared to them, I felt way more confident and content with myself than they ever would.

There’s absolutely nothing fun about having to be constantly aware of what you look like. Now I’m not saying that we should totally let ourselves go. I’m merely pointing out that I was perfectly comfortable and still looked good. I understand our need to be noticed and ooh’d aah’d over but we as females need to realize our self-worth WITHOUT all the unnecessary embellishments.

YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL. Regardless of your size, shape, race or religion. Embrace it and always strive to be yourself.