Recently I`ve been thinking a lot about what it`s like to give so much to others who don`t see what you do for them. What it`s like to keep giving to people who don`t even give half as much back. God, it`s a feeling that hurts you to the bones. It makes you feel empty, it makes you feel like an idiot for being so nice to other people who don`t even appreciate it even though being kind isn`t negative. And yet you let it go the next day, put up a smile and act like nothing. Not because you`re not strong enough to confront the person, but because you tell yourself excuses and convince yourself he or she cares. Or that it`s okay, doesn`t really matter, let it be. Maybe it`s just how they are, maybe they have their own ways of showing that they care. Then, the next time you realise the people you care so much about don`t really care that much about you, you`re hurting. Again. Or maybe you always were hurting, but the fake smile did its magic.

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I`ve been realising how certain people would rather cause drama and make issues out of little things, rather than fix them and try to be more understanding towards people. And I`ve been sad because I`ve been more aware of how some people just don`t care as much as I do. They won`t do the things you do for them. They`ll just take and take and take, and you`ll be left with… nothing? Oh, God. I don`t know. I just know that that`s where I`m not right now and I`m not going to allow myself to be there either, but it hurts. Everything would`ve just been easier if we were nicer towards each other, really.



Ever since I watched the last episode of Baaghi, my mind has pretty much been thinking about it. About how Qandeel Baloch was murdered, about how this has happened to so many and how people do certain things because of how others make them feel. I`m aware I`ve been talking quite a lot about the serial recently, but trust me – “quite a lot” isn`t enough. I knew a lot of the things the serial issued, but the way it did and the end got my mind stuck. Not only did the cast do an impressive job, but they managed to give different aspects to their characters. To all those who don`t like how they didn`t add the event with the Mufti Abdul Qavi intoto the serial – I think they didn`t do that, because the director had to act according to some guidelines. Not adding it still doesn`t miss the main point – how a woman with dreams in her eyes and wings of hope was shoot down and killed because of something called “honour”.

The show brought what happened to Qandeel much closer to me. It made me realise even more what happens in the lives of many girls. AND let`s not get me started on the OST. It`s SO amazing, I can`t even. I keep listening to it, I`m even listening to it as I`m writing this. Just can`t get over it.

Sometimes you read a book, or you watch a movie or a show which makes you feel way too many things at the same time. It makes you speechless. Or it breaks your heart. Baaghi did all those things to me and much more. Bilderesultat for mikuta red

//photo: here


“I am bound by the chains of traditions

And the interpretations of my dreams keep me awake”


Yesterday the last episode of “Baaghi” aired. Qandeel Baloch was killed by her brother. God, how do I explain the scene. How do I explain how brutal it was to see her brother strangle her. It`s just a serial, but it`s not really “just” a serial. I knew the last episode was going to be hard for me, but this hard? I don`t even know. And the worst part of it all is knowing it`s based on a true story. It`s knowing this happened to Qandeel Baloch. Not only her – it`s happened and will unfortunately happen to many other girls and boys. I`m thankful about my cousin introducing it to me and I`m glad I kept watching it when I got back home, because like I just said, it`s not “just a serial”. It`s a wake-up call, it`s an eye-opener, it`s truth, it`s reality. It`s what happens to hundreds of girls not only in Pakistan but in other countries, as well. It`s the story of a woman who dared to defy the society and paid the price. Like someone on Twitter wrote: “Here was a woman; she could have been anyone of us, a woman with dreams in her eyes. Her fault was to continue flying with her hopes when the world tried to shoot them down. Her flaw was to trust the people around her, even when they had done nothing to deserve that trust.”

I wish people at least had took into account that she too was a human beings with a heart and her own feelings. I wish people had took into account that she too went to bed every night with her mind. I wish people tried to understand that people do the things the do for many reasons and most of all, I wish we had tried to realise that she? She was just a human being too.


Also, I need to say something about the character Osman Khalid Butt did. I hope every girl meets a guy like Shehryar. He`s not the perfect, but because he respects a woman no matter what. He saw Qandeel (or Fozia, if you prefer using that name) for who she was. He didn`t judge her, instead he saw how lovely and caring she was. He waited for her for five years. All along he was always there for her, cheering and supporting her. While the world was judging her and speaking negatively about her, he really saw her heart. Qandeel wasn`t perfect either, but she was a human being who like everyone else, deserved to be happy. She found happiness in Shehryar and Shehryar found his happiness in her. He was one person who was lonely, then he found happiness in form of Qandeel and she was snatched away from him just before their wedding. The moment he got to know about her death was heartbreaking. The scene in which he puts 24 red roses on her grave made me so emotional. Not only did he respect her wishes and dreams while she was alive, he respected them even when she was dead. Qandeel Baloch needed that, but almost just as she found love, death found her too. Because she was a shame, because she was ruining the family`s honour. Because she was living a life many people thought was disgraceful and immoral. Because of her clothes, because of her actions. Because it didn`t suit a girl to “lose control”.

“o my beloved

may I not become a rebel”


“Baaghi” is truly depicting behavior of our society towards woman. This drama portrays the issues that the typical female has been inflicted by : the burden of double standards — hypocrisy and manipulative coercion. It also portrays the issue with so called honour and shame cultures. So many have opened up their eyes and are now praying for her. That makes me happy, but I hope people are feeling sorry for her not only because she was killed. That`s only the end of the story. I hope more people realised how destructive negative social control can be and how a lot of women all over the world are being silenced. I hope people understand that they have no right to be judgmental towards other human beings. You never know what someone`s going through what their story is and how many tears they`re fighting back. I hope more people realise the power of women and that women too deserve to be happy, educate themselves, make a career of their own and make their own decisions. I also hope people realise that the hate towards Qandeel was wrong. Yeah, you might not agree with everything she did, but that`s not the point. Nobody has the right to hate on anyone who`s not living life the way you want them too. Imagine if everyone was to live their lives according to what everyone else wanted them to do – what a sad world we would`ve lived in.

I hope Qandeel rests in peace. I`m deeply sorry about what happened to her and I hope she knows she deserved better. Who cares about honour if this is what honour is. I highly recommend “Baaghi”. It’s the story life of  a young controversial social media star who was killed by her own brother, in the name of so called “honor killing”. The acting is amazing, everyone did such a fantastic job. I`m speechless. This sensitive drama serial has inspired me so much and has truly changed my life. I hope you (if you can) watch it and I hope it changes something in your life too.


but dear you, that`s just how unexplainable life is


When someone dies, life stops up. You don`t know how to breathe, you don`t know how to play, how to talk, how to eat, how to walk. It feels like you have to start all over again. At least that`s what it was like for me, when my uncle and grandmother died. I didn`t know how to live life anymore, without them in it. I was like a little kid who had just started walking, fell down and didn`t know how to stand up again. I thought “what now?” Because that`s what it feels like and perhaps that`s the only question inside your mind. What now? What do you do with that empty seat or the closet with their clothes inside it? What do you do about the words you never spit out, the hand you didn`t reach out and the things you didn`t do? And perhaps the most important question: What do you do with yourself?


Then. Months pass by One. Two. Three. Three months. And then? Years pass by. One. Two. Three. It`s been three years now. What now? Life passed by. That Friday morning we cried so much. This Tuesday morning my feet were touching the snow that barely had reached the ground. I was on my way to school. Life happened, it moved on. After Friday came Saturday and after Saturday came Sunday. If there`s one thing I`ve learned throughout my twenty years on this planet, it`s that people might leave but the clock will always be ticking. I`ve said it before and I`ll say it again: even the darkest hour has 60 minutes. We all returned back to our daily habits. Wake up, get ready, eat breakfast, catch the train, go to school, go back home, eat, read, relax, sleep. I don`t know how it happened, it just happened. I felt like nothing was ever going to be the same and while that is the case, it also feels like everything has changed.

I learned how to life, even after seeing dead bodies. I learned how to live life, without my grandmother or my uncle being a part of it. It just happened, I don`t know how. I can`t explain. Maybe it`s because like little kids, I just stood up. Maybe it`s because I kept going to school, maybe it`s because without even realising it, I learned how to breathe again. Maybe it`s because I got used to not being able to find her, after some time. Of course there will always be emptiness and nobody will ever be able to replace them, but I`ve learned to live with the pain and the tears. We human beings tend to believe we`re weak, but actually we can be very strong and we`ve been through some of the biggest flames ever and yet, here we are.Bilderesultat for mikuta los angeles

maybe I`m stronger than I think, too. 

//photos are from mikuta.nu


I`m not popular, nor do I have many friends.

As a child I didn`t really have any friends. There and then I did I have people I could hang out with, but now I`ve realised they weren`t actually my friends. None of them stayed – some “faded away”, while others abandoned me. I was little, didn`t understand as much as I do now and didn`t really stand up for myself. In high-school I had many days where I felt lonely. For a long time, I didn`t really feel like anyone tried to listen to me or saw me who I am.

But, during my second year in high-school I got to know two girls, Sara and Thea. It started with me sitting with them. Slowly we started talking more and more and during third year I visited them and they visited me. I remember I once told them “I don`t trust you, it`s going to take a while for me” and they were like “well, just know that we trust you.” Some words can mean so much to you. They didn`t go all like “oh, why don`t you trust us, don`t you consider us your friends?”. They didn`t judge me, instead they gave me time and kept being the kind human beings they are. That meant and still means so much to me. I know that I could literally do anything to them, and they would still be kind to me. Thea is still here in Norway, while Sara is in Australia. She`s going to stay there for a couple of months and of course I miss her. I think it`s easy to think you`re going to drift apart when the distance is so huge, but I know we`re going to work it out and that missing each other will do us. Besides, Thea is still here!

Some days ago, Sara messaged me. “I just want to remind you of how fantastic, strong and cool you are, and I miss you.” Those words touched my heart and made me emotional (I`m perhaps the most emotional person on this earth).

I remember how I sometimes used to think before that the pain was never going to end. It seemed like the times I was going through at that time, was a phase I had to walk through forever. Many of us feel that way – it can feel like a never ending roller-coaster. You ask yourself “why me”. At that time I didn`t understand why people were being mean to me and making fun of me either. To be honest. sometimes I even found myself thinking “am I not cool enough or beautiful enough for people?” It feels like I wasn`t  popular or fabulous enough for most people, because after all, I didn`t really have that many to hang out with.

I still don`t have that many to hang out with, but you know what? I might have few friends, but the ones I have are fantastic. That`s good enough for me, because at least I`m cool enough, beautiful enough and fabulous enough for them. And that`s all that should matter.

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//Photo: here


I don`t know if you guys even know about Logan Paul or know about what has been happening to him lately. Basicly he`s a Youtuber. Before New Years, he posted a vlog (I didn`t watch it when he posted it, I don`t follow him, but know who he is) in which you could see that he visited “the Suicide Forest” and suddenly found a man, hanging there. Apparantely, he had commited suicide. If you`re interested, do watch the video (you can find it on Youtube), but Logan Paul reacted with shock. You can see him laughing, while he`s shocked.

I don`t know if I`m the only one who thinks this way, but you can clearly see how Logan doesn`t know how to react. However, whether what he did was right or wrong is a discussion I won`t begin here – what I found more interesting (and sad), is how people were being so rude and mean to him. So many were like “you just don`t make fun of suicide” and “go and kill yourself”. Like what? Logan Paul might have done something very wrong and perhaps he shouldn`t have posted a video, but he`s a human being. And I`m aware that might sound like a huge cliche, but it really is true because let me ask you: have you never done a mistake? Have you never done something you totally shouldn`t have done? It`s okay to write “hey, I think what you did was very very wrong to do, you shouldn`t have published that video at all” but saying “I hope you kill yourself” and “you are a miserable monster”, is that okay? I don`t think so, after all two wrongs don`t make a right. Suddenly people didn`t like him anymore and wanted him to leave Youtube forever. It`s as if it takes only one thing for people to turn their backs on you.


Zoella, another Youtuber who didn`t really make that huge of a mistake, received a lot of mean comments too, last year. She`s got her own beauty products, and some months ago she released her own advent calender. It costed 50 pounds and according to many, it was way too expensive as it didn`t really include much in it. So many were saying it was a complete rip off (which is okay to think!), but others were like “I`ve lost respect for you” and “you should be ashamed of yourself, total exploitation of her fans” because of one thing. It`s like everything else she`s done and created, didn`t matter anymore.

This makes me so sad, because I know what it`s like to have done something you shouldn`t have done and have someone all of a sudden turn their back on you and even say things about you that aren`t true. That hurts. I see it everywhere. You can do 100 nice things and 1 bad thing, and way too often it`s that one bad thing that gets the most attention. I understand that some people might have been upset or frustrated, but another person`s mistake, big or small, doesn`t give you the right to do them wrong. And I get why some people don`t see the point anymore or give up, because like I said, sometimes it seems like what matters are the bad things you do.

We point at others for doing wrong things, but we forget to point at ourselves for the things we do that are wrong too. 


“You`re going to create a blog and you can decide what you`re going to name it.”

I was 17 and still in high-school. It was time for International English, which was a course I was doing during my last year of high-school. For one of our assignments, we were asked to start a blog. We were supposed to blog once a week, which was pretty much nothing to me. I was little when I started enjoying the gift God had given to me – the ability to write and create whatever I wanted to, through words.

“You can blog about pretty much anything you want to.

I had no idea what to name my blog. Nothing seemed good enough, because I wanted everything and nothing in the name. It had to reflect me, reflect what my blog was going to be about.

“But once a month your post should be about a specific topic we will discuss in class.”

Easy peasy. I just needed to find a proper blog name and get started.

“Do you need any help?”

I told the teacher I`m only struggling with finding a good enough name, but otherwise I was doing good. After a lot of thinking, I typed “namingmyvoice.wordpress.com”.

Less than two months later, I started writing personal posts. Some of them were full of feelings and reflections. I was exhuasted. I had enough.

“I`ll proove you all wrong. One day.”

I had just written a post about my situation at school. Once again I was feeling too much. Maybe I should of have expressed myself differently, but it was what it was.

“I have read this blog entry several times and I still do not know what to say…”

My teacher didn`t know what to say. Maybe that was a good thing.

I liked the attention. At least someone heard me. At least someone said nice things about me.

I kept writing posts about things that meant something to me. Elections, the beauty pressure in the society, bullying, loneliness – the blog quickly became a space where I could write down what I wanted to. It was my space. It was a world I could paint blue, pink or black and the decision was entirely mine. I could be creative and create a space on the internet which was mine.

While at school? I wasn`t heard, nor was I really noticed. People kept talking, I missed actions. A message to the principle didn`t take me that far.

You could say the pen became my weapon.

I sent the message I had sent to the principle to the newspaper. For the first time I was that much noticed. Likes, shares, comments. People said nice things about me. I was brave, I was fantastic, I was something. Reading the comments made me so happy.

I had always had a voice, but perhaps that was the first time I was actually able to name it.


When I made this blog, I was 17. I can`t remember what exactly I had in mind when I picked the name for this blog, but now it means more to me than it did then.

I guess I`ve always wanted to have a voice. My own voice. I`ve always wanted to create something and be heard through that. For many years I felt like nobody could actually hear me.

My voice was a voice only I could hear.

Bullying made me feel lonely, being lonely made me feel lonely and having to go through these things made it hard for me. Many times I felt like my voice didn`t matter, because some people around me made it seem like that was the case. If I explained how I felt or thought about something, I was sometimes told I was wrong. It didn`t really matter. I wanted to be heard, to be noticed and to be understood.

I wanted people to see me, not only look at me.

I feel like I`ve sort of achieved that with my blog. There`s a reason I decided to keep it, even after the assignment was over and we were told we didn`t really have to blog anymore. I wanted to, because I enjoyed it. I enjoyed writing and I liked having a voice. I liked having the opportunity to have my own space and share what I want to.

So here I am now, more than two years later. I`m 20, still growing up and getting to know life every single day. I`ve written a lot since I started this blog, which I`m proud about. I`m proud that I`ve kept writing, despite some comments I`ve received here and there. I`m glad I`ve kept naming my voice, because you know what?

Without a voice no one can hear you and I`ve realised how much impact my voice can have, but it`s even more important that you find your own voice so you can get to know how beautiful it can be. The only thing nobody else has, is you, after all.