It was a basic Sunday in March, I woke up suddenly and without reason, no bad dreams, I didn’t hear any sounds in the house, or catch a Jinn doing the dabkeh in the corner of my room. Yet something literally lifted me out of sleep into an awakened state where I found myself sitting up and staring out my bedroom window. It was pitch black. The world around me was still asleep. Yet there I was wide awake like fucking Katy Perry staring at the moon. It felt nice though. I hadn’t sat and stared at the moon since I fell asleep sobbing under it a few months before. We’ll get there.
I stared up at the stars. They almost begged to be wished on. That’s another thing I realized I had stopped doing. Wishing on stars. I used to wish on them all the damn time truly believing those wishes would come true. Many did and have. Others haven’t and never will. You see, I was living through the final stages of a really fucking hard rough patch in my life. And by rough, I mean it was turbulent, and by turbulent, I mean my damn plane was crashing. This isn’t a woe-to-me story or victim mode. NO! That’s not and will never be me. I’m just a girl making it through the rain and choosing to share the success of that journey with those who may be feeling alone through theres.
I remember feeling like God was speaking to me that night. You can say God, intuition, source, the divine spirit within, or fucking Yoda for all I care. The point is that there’s an infinite power that exists and it’s forever guiding us through every aspect of our life. The important part is to learn how to listen. I know exactly how. Sometimes the messages don’t come through words but rather through visions. Like a movie playing out in my head from beginning to end. Visions shown in order to guide and direct me on the path I’m meant to be on. I never understood this until 2015 when I made the decision to leave my almost three-year relationship with a guy, I’ve nicknamed Pan. The guy who was my first everything. First boyfriend, first love, and the guy I gave my V card to. Of course, nobody would have ever known about this fact if he hadn’t chosen to expose it after I decided to leave.
Needless to say, my reputation was destroyed and without that, I didn’t know what else I had to live for, so I attempted suicide. Thankfully I didn’t succeed and instead found myself admitted to a psychiatric ward. Yet as I’ve always said in sharing this part of my life, it changed me, and I came out a brand new Sharmoota. Ha, ha!
Gosh it feels so good to say, think, and write that word again without feeling like I’m a “log for hellfire,” or a repulsive piece of shit. I know I’m running on a tangent here and you don’t know what the fuck I’m referring to, but I promise we’ll get there. Stay with me here.
After four years of stagnancy on almost every level of my life, God gave me a message and it was clear: disconnect and reconnect with not only myself but the real world, my plans, my mission, dreams, and hopes. Of which I have many.
Now, I’m going to be completely honest here as I have always been. At first, I thought this was my depression speaking. I mean that bitch loves to isolate me and get me unaligned. A journey she started after that phone call at the Metra station four years ago. A call I wish I’d never agreed to take.
Again…we’ll get there. I promise.
But after over seven years of healthy and life-changing therapy, I’ve learned it’s actually not only healthy but incredibly powerful to listen to the voice within. The one that tends to lead you down a path that may scare you initially, only to find your life forever changed for the better. Back to my room that night as–
I sat there and searched my intuition asking myself a series of questions. I mean the thought of doing a social media blackout in itself was horrifying. Not only because it’s my main source of income, but also because it’s become such a place of comfort for me and thousands of others.
“Is that it,” I asked God. “Have I become too comfortable? Is that why I need to disconnect? Am I obsessing? Have I lost sight of my mission? How’s disconnecting really gonna help me right now?”
Yet when intuition speaks, regardless of the ways I argue it, the command remains the same. If anything, it gets more assertive, louder, and more repetitive as I don’t listen. It’s futile and pointless anyway, since every time I’ve been directed on a path in this way, it’s always been for my greater good.
I’m sure most of you know by now what happened next—I deactivated my Instagram and Snapchat since they were the places I found myself so fucking addicted and dependent.
I removed all social media from my phone– that shit was hard– and began the reconnection process.
The next day I walked down Chicago’s Magnificent Mile, which some have nicknamed the “mile of fear,” (due to the increased violence in Chicago) to get to Water Tower Place where I was scheduled to meet a client. For almost sixteen years now I’ve been a dating and life coach; the first Muslim one for that matter. This means I wasn’t prepared for one bit of this role or how far and wide it would find my clientele extending. I didn’t sign up for it, nor did I take a class to prepare or help navigate me, although it would have had to be one hell of a course to have set me up for what these sixteen years have been. I’ve seen, heard, and experienced almost anything and everything a human being can imagine. It’s been exciting, insightful, and mentally traumatic all at the same time. Yet, I say this with no level of narcissism, I’m fucking good at what I do. I can read a person, situation, or circumstance a mile away. It’s made my life both thrilling and filled with endless disillusions. Despite this, it’s as I said, made me very good at what I do.
Need help healing from that heartbreak that just clings to your soul? I’m your girl. Need guidance through the struggles of your family, faith, culture, community, or society? I’m one call away like Charlie Puth. Family, marital, and dating issues, first-time relationships, dealing with fuckboys and girls, evil mom issues, backstabbing friends, finding a haven within your toxic home, shishkebbabing, everything and anything you can think of I can probably comfortably say, “I’ve been there, or had clients go through it.” Female, male, gay, straight, and every religious denomination, I have clients all across the globe and from every walk of life. The journey has shown me one of many truths the first being that two things unite every human being no matter where they come from: heartbreak and the search for love. The self and intimate one we’re all yearning for. The client I was seeing today was one of those women. We’ll call her Tahani.
I walked up to Water Tower Place and past the revolving doors that brought back so many memories for me. Both good and bad. It’s hard to forget when places hold memories, I often avoid revisiting. Chicago is a graveyard for mine. I took the escalator up and grabbed one of the nearest seats in our usual waiting area that’s relatively private. I could hear Tahani approaching in her four-inch platforms. A must she feels since she stands only five feet tall.
“Did your Instagram get hacked?” She said as she approached the table leaning in for a hug. She had noticed my disconnection as I’m sure many had and was clearly worried.
“No,” I said returning the hug. “I’m just taking time off to focus on me,” I added earnestly knowing damn well there were a ton of things I still needed to heal and prioritize.
“Does that mean you’re not consulting anymore,” she asked even more worried.
“Girl, I was supposed to have retired last year,” I said. We both laughed. It was true. No matter how hard I tried, I wasn’t ready to let go of my one-on-one work. If anything, the very reason I detached from the fake and filtered world of social media was to reconnect with the real world and the real people in it.
“I mean at least do masterclasses or Q&A sessions, then I’ll be okay letting you go,” Tahani said knowing she’s a girl who always finds a way to get what she wants. Except for Bashir, her boyfriend of two years. A real estate agent whose seven-figure bank account matched the seven inches he was packing. I know this because, during one of our consults Tahani, while Tahani asked me to read their text conversation and give my professional feedback, Bashir decided to text her a 4K picture of his kebab.
“I was looking through his friend list and started finding him liking and commenting all thirsty under other girls’ pictures. Then he goes and posts some thirst trap, and all these girls start commenting and he’s replying with hearts and flowers and all that. I’m fucking done, Faiza. This is insane!”
She’s been saying this for two years now. Bashir is still acting out in various forms of fuckery and Tahani is still meeting me to complain about it at Water Tower Place.
“What makes guys think this is okay?” She asked.
“Women,” I replied.
“What?” She barked.
“Women tend to be really patient about this shit. Instead of speaking up, they vent to me rather than calling their boyfriend out as if they don’t have a basis for their frustration. I should know… not only have I worked with those women for almost sixteen years now, but I myself was one.”
“Yeah, ’cause I don’t wanna look insecure.”
“It’s not insecure to not want your boyfriend to be giving attention to other women. What the fuck? When you love someone, a part of you naturally doesn’t wanna share them with anyone else. Hence the reason a man who falls in love with a woman doesn’t wanna share her with other men. That’s not controlling, that’s naturally the way we claim what’s ours. Don’t you want to belong to someone and have someone belong to you? To have them give their heart, time, and attention, solely to you. Not share it with the world or every pussy on social media?”
“Faiza, please,” she said looking around a bit embarrassed.
To be honest, I wasn’t even aware of how loud I said that. Laughter over took humiliation as we both busted out laughing.
“Sorry, but am I right or what?” I asked.
“Obviously I want that, but it doesn’t seem possible nowadays. Wallah.”
“Why?”
“Cause social media and dating apps and all that other stuff just makes it hard.”
“Or is it humans who make it hard?”
“It’s hard. Trust me. Temptations everywhere.”
“How come you’re not caving to that temptation?”
“Cause I know better.”
“And why would you hold Bashir to a lesser standard than that? I mean aren’t you tired of cyberstalking him and not doing any actual talking about what’s going on?”
I could see her Gen Z mind battling the thoughts between the heart and technology. I’ve seen this progress worse and worse every year since 2016. An almost infestation of the mind where daters feel the need to stalk their boyfriend/girlfriend on social media and even worse, find ways to keep tabs on their every move in an obsessive desire to be in control of something they’re not in control of— another person’s heart or mind.
“Girl social media might be a toxic poison sure. I mean I believe everyone needs a dopamine cleanse once a year. But it won’t change that you yourself need to be in control of your actions and if you’re not, you need to be held accountable for it.”
“Meaning?” She asked taking a first sip of her cappuccino that was in a rhinestone-encrusted heat mug she somehow managed to perfectly place in her Louis Vuitton whose custom-made hijab of the same brand and style matched exactly.
“Meaning, sure social media might be presenting plenty of temptations to Bashir, but he himself is responsible for his actions. He’s choosing to like those posts, reply to those comments, and entertain those avenues. Nobody’s forcing him. Yes or no?”
Tahani nodded.
“He’s choosing to spark that flame and ignite that fire to get validation and attention and now you gotta show him how it burns. Liking and commenting flirtatiously to other women when you’re in a relationship has consequences. Maybe it’s time to teach him that.”
“But what if he wants to break up?”
I hate when women ask this question. Like will you not fucking survive a breakup, girlfriend?! Do you really not think there aren’t plenty, and I mean PLENTY, of fucking fish in the sea?! And absolutely one that’ll treat you better.
“Girl, then let him go. The fuck.” I replied almost angrily. “You need to start setting boundaries and stop running from what you feel as if he would. How would Bashir feel if you started posting thirst traps?”
“He’d be pissed. Come on. You know that” she answered confidently. “He’d say I’m not respecting him.”
“Then what the fuck, Tahani?”
I could see truth starting to seep into the pores of her $120 makeup job.
“If it would be seen as disrespectful by you, why is it not the same with him? Why are you allowing him to set the standard of how YOU feel and what YOU accept?”
“You’re right,” she said. “Can you please text me what I should say to him so I could be more prepared for the call? Or can we set up a FaceTime call to practice?”
“Sure,” I said.
“Can you dress up as Sufyan again, so it’ll be like I’m talking to him?”
“Sure,” I replied again realizing just how badly I need to quit this fucking job that I so deeply love. Besides… it gets worse. We’ll get to it.
After saying my goodbyes to Tahani I exited Water Tower Place and as I began the walk back to the parking garage, I found myself almost face to face with someone I didn’t expect to see— my ex, who we’ll call, MBJ. I literally rushed back to the revolving doors and inside before he could see me.
For a moment I lost sight of him which only made my anxiety grow. It had been three years and, in a city, as big as Chicago, you’d think you could avoid these types of situations, but time and time again I’ve proven this theory wrong.
“What if he’s coming in here? Fuck!” I asked myself while looking around for a place to hide knowing damn well there wouldn’t be one unless I sprinted up the escalator. I was in three-inch heels— that shit was not happening.
I happened to turn around just in time to catch him walking past the building. His steps were determined, and his headphones were firmly placed on his ears as he confidently walked past. I watched him the whole way.
He looked so good. I mean… so fucking good. Even after three years.
Not that I didn’t. To be honest, it would have been a perfect time to see each other, but for whatever reason my anxiety said FUCK NO! Maybe because the last thing he said to me was, “If you leave me, I’m done. After you, it’s nobody. I’ll accept being alone.” We broke up two days later.
I wish he understood how much of my heart he took with him as well. I wish I had been better at showing him. Telling him. I wish he knew how I still have pictures of him on my phone. Ones I haven’t been able to delete. Ones my iPhone reminds me of on a fucking daily basis. Another reason I should remove them and yet…
I watched MBJ walk to the corner and wait at the light for it to change. Once he walked down the block and out of sight I walked as quickly as I could a little more aware of another reason to call the Mag Mile the mile of fear on that day. Because you just might see your fucking ex.
That night, I started obsessively thinking about MBJ.
Damn, he looked so good. I forgot what amazing arms he has. Ugh. I wondered what he was listening to. I wondered if it was any of the songs I’d sent him? Was it a song that reminded him of me?
I obsessed so much so that I found myself itching to get on social media and cyber stalk him-only to recall the advice I had literally just given Tahani and also, I remembered MBJ is not on social media so that would be pointless. He’d often talk about how much he hated it. One of his many chief attractions. I couldn’t help but start feeling like I wish I hadn’t disconnected from the filtered world and reconnected with the real one where ex’s are walking around looking better than ever. No filter needed.
Suddenly, my phone chimed. There was a Snapchat notification. I was confused believing I had removed the app just the night before. Apparently, I had not.
The message was from— you guessed it— MBJ.
I was floored. I mean I actually jumped out of bed which I haven’t done in a really long time. I didn’t know what to do. He would know if I opened the message. No doubt why he sent it via Snap, and yes, I was anxious to read it.
Yet there I sat staring at it and staring and staring.
“Bitch. What the fuck!” I snapped at myself. “Just read it!”
I did although I knew very well, I should have ignored it. Knowing damn well I would have advised the same to a client. But maybe that’s yet again another reason God wanted me to disconnect so that I could stop with the do as I say not as I do bullshit.
So, there was his message that read:
“Did you cut your hair?”
Fuck! I knew at that moment that despite my belief that I had escaped his very observant gaze- MBJ had seen me. Of course.
Like Bashir, I was faced with a decision. Ignore or entertain. Although something screamed, “DON’T RESPOND, BITCH,” I couldn’t help but feel a strong temptation to write back. It seemed too easy. So accessible. Even if it was a bad decision, it was there, in my hands, and I was in control. One quick button and it’s done. I couldn’t help but feel that Tahani was right, social media is a poison. One even God had instructed me to detach from and yet there I was seriously thinking about drinking it down with a damn smile on my face.
This tug of war within myself went on for two hours and I was yet again up at night. Just me, God, and my thoughts. I could hear the crickets outside my window begging me to sleep and yet sleep wouldn’t come.
As 4:am rolled around I decided to take my control back. I would choose to not reply to MBJ’s message. I would not take the bait. I would choose not to drink the addictive social poison. I would understand and stand in the truths I knew, the reasons why it ended, and why some doors— no matter how beautifully decorated— are better off being and staying closed.
I put my phone on the nightstand and again looked at the clock: 4:14 am.
I turned my back to it as my eyes finally got heavy and sleep took over.
Unbeknownst to me, exactly seven minutes later, my phone began to vibrate on the nightstand.
The caller ID read MBJ.
I read everything and now I’m intrigued 😂
Oh dear God 😳, Come on!!!
Guuurrrlllll what did he say, how did he sound !!!!! Did you even take the call 🤔 👀
Okay and now I’m hooked.
Please have a continuation to Poison
Not me already being obsessed! Love this and I’m so glad you’re back Mama. You don’t understand how you’re missed so bad. Love you.
More more moreeeeeeee. Please.
I need more now!!!!!!!!! Mama please!!!!
Not to be pushy but we need part 2-100 NOW! 😂😂😂😂 Loved this, Faiza. You have such a talent. Glad you’re back and we need more 😂😂😂😂😂
The writing got me going and story got me hooked 😫
Hopefully you’re doing ok tho!🌹
Obsessed. I need more. Done reading all the books I have 🥲 btw I’m so glad you’re back. I’ve missed you and your energy so much Mama P.
Probably shouldn’t care about posts like these as a guy but I’m hooked. Waiting for P2
Ride that power horse you are on away from MBJ like a Queen!
What happens next omg
Missed you so much you’re an incredible light in this world. Love you mama penguin. I pray the peace bring to others onto you tenfold. God bless you
Can’t wait to read the rest
Cant believe I just read that for free. So good! You need to do more! MashaAllah you’re amazing!
Reading when I get home. Yayyyyytyyyyy. I started following you because of your writing Mama P. Can’t wait to read. So happy to have you back. You’ve been missed.
Hurry
FAIZA!!!
First of all thank you so much for writing this and giving us an insight into your life, but girl you cant leave us hanging like this 😩😩 I wanna know what happens with MBJ 😅
Also I’ve missed you soo soo much like you have no idea I’m so glad you’re back. 🥹🥹❤️❤️ much love
This is awesome, you seriously need to write a book. Reading your writing after the longest time ! ❤️❤️❤️❤️
Pls do NOT entertain him I’m waiting for part 2 xx
You should publish your own book I would definitely read your books and now I am curious to know what happened part 2?
I second that motion
YESSSSSS
I need more!!!!!!!
Omg this is written soooo well… can’t wait for Part 2!!!
Sooooo good. Next please
The Sufyan part 😂😂😂😂😂 I’m dying! Not that being us three years ago at Sinbads 🙊😂😂😂😂 You’re always the real mvp. Love you so much. I need to read more.
I need more mama
Can we get more MBJ? I’m obsessed already.
fact you’d post this for free is exactly why I love you. This is your year mama. I feel it
Our Muslim Carrie Bradshaw is backkkkkk! You’ve been missed and needed by us so bad ❤️❤️❤️
OMGosh I love this. So her
Love this. Muslim Carrie Bradshaw for sure
NOOOO Taylor Swift lol
When is part two. Will this be weekly again? Are you publishing a book at the end for those of us who want to read in one sitting? Thank you. Love you.
More more more more more more more
Woman!!!! You can’t leave us hanging like that!!!!
So glad to have you back 🙂
Putting this in writing now I’ll buy anything you write mama. Lit anything. Obsessed. I need more right now.
You have so much talent Mashallah Fay. Male penguin over here and I’m in. What’s next. Yalla
I always wondered why you stopped saying sahrmouta. Will you get into what happened and what happened with social media? I feel bad asking because I know you’ll share what you want. Can’t wait to read more. Been following you since your first blog.
Oh no my name is Tahani 😂 I promise I’m not dating and this isn’t me but I wish it was. Only seen Chi Muzzys with those stupid hijabs 😂😂😂😂
You’ve been missed
Ready for more. today 😂😂😂
I’m so ready for this new chapter of your life
Not you still cross dressing 6 years later. Faiza I’m rolling
But why does this feel normal only for her 😂
Agreed lol
On pins and needles. Finish. Now
Where is the restttt???
Please write a book already!!
Been following you for too long ❤️
Where’s the rest?!?!!
Moreeeeeee right now Faiza loooool
You’re what we need and been missing. Tired of all this crap on social media. You don’t understand how much you’re needed.
Def Muslim Bradshaw. Loving this. Are you single?
I read the whole thing and was hooked! What happened?? I need more. Your writing is captivating
Give us more. Pleaaaase
Utter horse shit.
Faiza first of all I am so glad you’re back ❤️I thought something terrible had happened to you wallah 🥺.
Your videos and social media content have been a life saver …. Literally.
I can relate to the things you have gone though , growing up in strict Muslim household , starting the dating game late at 28, who turned out to be the biggest fuckboy , then losing my father .
This blog has come at the perfect time , such a great read ❤️. Can’t wait for the next part.
Lots of love from the U.K. x❤️
Auntie Faiza we miss you sooo much, God!!! You must write a book, I’m hooked…🥰🥰🥰🥰
Addicted. I need more. I agree with the above your writing is addicting. Exactly what the we need right now.
great read
What’s next?? 😭😭😭💘
OMG…. What happened next???!!! Need to know now 😭
Will this be weekly? Can’t waittttt more
You can’t leave us hanging like that! We need part 2!
Alhamdulillah your back! I absolutely love your writing, it flows so beautifully, hopeful for a part 2 !
When is part 2 ? Love your writing . Cant wait for part 2
Faiza this was amazing. Ready for the next part. Also can you post this pic on Instagram ❤️
OH MY GOD FAIZA
Everything you’ve written i can relate to on a deep level and i’m hooked to read the next part, i cannot wait. ♥️
I love this 😭❤️
Dear Netflix: You’re welcome.
WE NEED MORE MAMAAAAAA
No HBO so Faiza can be like Carrie 🥰🥰🥰🥰
Sold. Can’t wait for the next part.
MBJ 👀
Re read 3 x already ❤️😫
You have such an amazing way with words. I love this and want more soon. Please.
Calling it now #1 blog on the internet. Feels illegal to read this for free. Love you. Post more please
Feel better seeing how many others guys are on here 😂😂 great read beautiful
Who is MJB?
You know she’s never going to tell us 😂 she’s like Taylor swift 🤣
This is too fun. Can’t wait for the next entry. Hope this will be a weekly post because I’m locked in with everyone else here 👌🏼❤️
OMG I NEED MORE!!
WE DEMAND A PART TWO and thank god you’re back!
TELL ME YOU DID NOT PICK UP THAT PHONE. AND WHY WAS HIS ASS CALLING AT 4am?
No wonder he has so many poor character traits. MOFO don’t sleep
👏
I’ve missed you Faiza ! I don’t know how someone I’ve never met, never spoken to can actually start to mean so much. I really was worried when I suddenly couldn’t find you on Instagram. I’m so glad you’re back and I can’t wait to hear the hiii Penguinsssssss !
Same. I was telling my mom how I couldn’t believe how much I missed someone but I’ve been reading her work since 2013 and started following her on Instagram back in 2016. Everyone else just copies but it’s not the same. We love you so much Mama and we’re so glad you’re back. Your penguins love you so much.
Seriously, its been a very very long time since ive read something that caught me like that
Very Well written!
This is so good. I don’t even know what to say. So well written, Faiza. Let’s go. MORE
Woah! More please.
Can’t wait till Saturday ❤️❤️❤️
You need to start writing books. There’s a lot of really crappy Muslim authors. You’re needed now more than ever mama P
Okay so now I am waiting for the next part. I hope there is a next part. And you’re a really good writer. I am disappointed in myself for reacting to my exs message this morning 🤧
Nooo….a cliffhanger!! I can’t wait to find out what happens next!! Yes you definitely need to get into writing a book I would definitely buy it! Lol xxx
Booksssssss Mama P. Start writing now. I’m throwing my money at you 😂😂
3 more days 🍿
It may already sound familiar to you but I did not believe my eyes when I saw an email that started with “expired and fabu….” I was like what??? Am I seeing things or is it my favorite girl Faiza!! I seriously am wishing for a day to just sit with you have a nice meal and talk to you as if I am your only best friend in this whole world. I bet many girls are wishing same cuz you’re so awesome… I love you soo much and love reading your posts. It’s amazing how we are all connected one way or another and go thru same shit yet feel as if we are the only ones going thru it. You know what I mean! Relationships are never easy. Be it someone’s girlfriend or someone’s wife. Life is always throwing challenges at you and makes u think am I doing this wrong?? Praying everyone can get thru their problems and live happily including you Faiza ❤️ again thank u for the really need you around. You’re kinda like my fairy god mother but in the relationship expert kinda way 😉
It’s almost Sat
Don’t mind me re-reading for the 7th time 🙂
oh my goddddddddddddddddddddddddddd
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