Sara Laila

I have something that is the key to opening this magical door of recovery: hope. I have hope.

You shouldn’t have to ask for your friends to love you during your difficult times. They just should. 

I’m sorry for how I’ve treated you. I’m sorry for not appreciating you more. I’m sorry for not always welcoming you in the best way.

They don’t tell you that strength is fleeting. They don’t warn you about how lonely it gets. They don’t tell you how badly you will want someone, anyone to just hold your hand while you’re being poked and prodded.

I am scared to put a piece of cloth on my head which by the way…is who I am- it is my identity- and I am afraid for my life now because of it.

For some, forgiveness comes as easy as taking a few breaths. For others, it takes an insane amount of strength and dedication. 

If there is one thing about letting go that I can tell you, it’s that it is all on you. You have the power and you are in control to get up and change your situation.

It is hard when you’ve got everyone convinced that you are seamlessly okay and so blissfully content. It is tough to reach out to friends when it seems like my sadness and pain would be a burden.

My Hijab feels as heavy as my heart. The symbol that lets others know who I am and what I believe in is starting to scare me. I am scared that I might be targeted for a hate crime because of my religion.

Instead of being the girl they wanted me to be, I became the girl I wanted to be. I learned to be independent and rely on myself. I learned to cater to my own needs and build and mold myself the way I have always dreamed.

I was diagnosed with a life threatening disease twice in my life. I overcame that disease twice in my life.

For some reason, people find girls that wear the Hijab to be unapproachable and standoffish. I do not understand where this thought comes from and it makes me very sad.