They ask me who I am.
So I show them — mind, heart, soul — unfiltered.
I am a girl with a mind in Medicine.
I think in systems — in the delicate balance of the human body, in the unseen battles between illness and recovery. My brain doesn’t rest — it analyzes patterns, questions outcomes, imagines interventions, and sometimes spirals into the unknown.
I crave the precision of science, the discipline of structure, the challenge of making something work — for real people, with real lives. There’s something powerful about understanding the mechanics of healing, of pushing boundaries to restore what’s broken.
I’m not afraid of complexity — I lean into it. That’s where the magic lives — in the data, in the process, in the art of turning science into hope.
I am a girl with a heart in art.
I feel too much and too deeply, and maybe that’s a blessing or maybe it’s chaos, but either way, it’s real. Colors speak to me. Painting wrecks me. Silence moves me.
My heart doesn’t know straight lines — it curves and stumbles and dances through every shade of emotion. Art isn’t just what I see — it’s how I process the world when words fail. I find beauty in the undone, the imperfect, the broken things still holding light. That’s art — it shapes how I see, how I hope.
I am a girl with a soul in pen.
Writing isn’t a choice — it’s survival. It’s how I bleed without wounds, how I scream without noise. I write because sometimes my head is too loud, and my chest is too full, and the only way out is ink. Poetry is where I’m honest — raw, untamed, sometimes ugly, sometimes soft.
It’s not polished; it’s real. My soul needs the pen like lungs need air — because in those messy lines and fractured metaphors, I find myself. Again and again.
I am a girl with a mind in STEM, a heart in art, and a soul in pen — where science fuels my thoughts, art shapes my vision, and poetry sets my spirit free. I love molecules and metaphors.
They ask me who I am.
And I don’t answer in labels, I answer in layers.
— Sadia Hakim / Introduction
