For whom are you performing in the theater of life
For whom are you performing in the theater of life? Everyone’s got their own script, theater — everyone’s playing their own theater.
Letters Unsent
Letters Unsent is a collection of reflections and musings—thoughts I often write as letters to myself or to an imagined world. These words remain unsent, holding emotions and ideas meant for deeper reflection, waiting to be shared with those who pause to listen.
Betrayed by family and friends — life poetry
The first betrayal always comes from family, and the second from friends. // sadia’s writing journal
The threshing processes of life separates humans from people
Just like wheat and chaff get separated upon violent shaking, some experiences of life also distinguish people from others. These are meant to separate the genuine from the false. Life is just a series of threshing processes designed for humans and people. The threshing processes of life separates humans from people. — Sadia Hakim — […]
We all have our heartbreaks and griefs — Sadia Hakim
We all have our heartbreaks and griefs. What’s heavy for one person might mean nothing to another, and vice versa. What matters is that we respect each other’s experiences and grievances, and honor the time and space it takes to feel it all. It’s okay to be vulnerable. It’s not a weakness. It’s being human. […]
Can you love someone who hates himself
How can you love someone who hates himself so perfectly, so explicitly, so enraged-ly, so violently, so destructively, disturbingly, devouring-ly, mercilessly, venomously, painfully, demonically, diabolically, and humanly that even hate despises any interaction with their being? I am asking this on behalf of my heart. — Sadia Hakim // Letters Unsent 73
When religion touches lips, not souls — Sadia Hakim
Ramadan comes and goes, but some people remain untouched, unmoved, unchanged. They fast from food but not from cruelty, recite verses but never pause to understand them. They rush through thirty chapters as if tallying marks on a scorecard, as if faith is something to be completed, not lived. They worry about missing a prayer […]
If only I were a boy — every girl’s thought at some point in life
Letters Unsent ____ If only I were a girl 177
Homecoming to your own heart — grief, rage, ruins
How many doors do you need to lead toward your own heart? How many walks, stumbles, and breakpoints do you need to reach there? The heart is just there on the left of your chest, behind this fragile ribcage, yet it takes decades to reach it. How ironic is that? You spend years searching for […]
You think He doesn’t know — the One who created?
ألا يعلم من خلق وهو اللطيف الخبير “Shall He not know—He Who created? And He is the One Who knows even the most hidden matters, fully aware of all things.” You think He doesn’t know? The One who created every inch of you — the noise in your head, the silence you carry, the weight […]