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Hey everyone, my name is Abdelmajed, and this is my story.

I grew up in Gaza, a place that was once full of life. I had dreams, hopes, and a deep love for my home. But in a matter of months, everything changed. I lost my home. I lost my sense of security. I lost people I loved more than anything in the world. 💔

People often talk about strength like it’s something you can see—something loud, something powerful. But I’ve learned that true strength is often quiet.

Strength is waking up every morning when you don’t know what the day will bring. Strength is carrying the memories of those you’ve lost, while still choosing to move forward. Strength is believing in a better tomorrow, even when today feels impossible.

I don’t share my story for sympathy. I share it because I know that there is still kindness in this world. I still believe in people, in love, in hope. And I know that no matter what happens, I will keep going. Because that’s what strength really is.

If you’ve read this far, thank you. Just knowing that someone out there is listening means the world to me. 💙