Intry

i love you, lady hestia.

i love you, lord apollo.

i love you, lady athena.

i love you, lady aphrodite.

i love you, lord poseidon.

i love you, lord hermes.

i love you, gods that i don’t actively worship.

My name is Saja. I’m a wife, a mother, and a woman who once believed her story would be simple. I thought my days would be filled with watching my daughter grow — from her first smile to her first steps — surrounded by the small joys of everyday life.

But life had other plans.

War has returned to our home. Again. And once again, we find ourselves living under skies that never seem to rest.

There was a moment — a fragile, breathless moment — when the bombs paused and the world seemed to remember us. It gave us hope. We thought maybe, just maybe, we could start to rebuild. But now, we are back in the dark — hiding, holding on, praying.

I’m writing this not as someone seeking pity, but as a mother who has no other choice but to speak.

Imagine holding your baby in the middle of the night, not because she cried, but because the world outside roared too loud for either of you to sleep. Imagine whispering bedtime stories not to lull her into dreams, but to keep the fear from settling into her tiny bones.

This is my life.

This is my daughter’s life.

And even now — especially now — I believe in softness. I believe in kindness. Because when everything else is taken from you, hope becomes the most valuable thing you have.

Why I’m Reaching Out Our home has been damaged. Our lives changed. But through it all, my daughter wakes up every morning with a smile. She reaches for me with trust, with love, with faith that I will keep her safe.

That’s why I keep going.

I’ve launched a campaign to ask for help — not because it’s easy, but because silence is no longer an option. I am asking for support not just for me, but for my baby, and for the quiet strength of so many mothers like me who are fighting, every single day, to hold their families together.

How You Can Help: 🤍 Help us restore parts of our home so we can live with dignity 🤍 Support women and mothers in Gaza with access to care and resources 🤍 Keep the light of hope alive for a generation born in the shadows of war

💛 If you can, please support our journey here:

If you can’t give, please consider sharing. Your voice might be the reason someone else hears ours.

From My Heart to Yours Maybe our lives are worlds apart. Maybe you’ve never lived through war. But if you’ve ever held a child and wished the world could be better for them — then you understand more than you know.

I don’t want my daughter to grow up thinking the world turned away.

Please, if you’ve read this far — thank you. Thank you for seeing us. Thank you for caring. We are still here. Still hoping. Still holding on to every kind act like it’s a lifeline.

✅️ Vetted by @gazavetters {537} ✅️

Hey everyone, my name is Abdelmajed. I don’t usually talk much about myself, but today, I want to share a little piece of my story.

I was born and raised in Gaza, a place that has always been my home 🏡. I grew up surrounded by my family, my friends, and the streets that I knew like the back of my hand. Life wasn’t always easy, but we had love, laughter, and dreams. I used to think that no matter what happened, home would always be here. But life has a way of changing things in ways we never expect.

Over the past months, everything I once knew has disappeared. The streets that were once filled with children playing are now silent. The houses that held so many memories are now just rubble. And the people I loved—some of them are gone forever. 💔

✅️ Vetted by @gazavetters {537} ✅️

Hey, beautiful souls,

Today’s post is somewhat personal, and to be honest, a little hard to write. That being said I know how important it is to share our stories—not only to heal ourselves but also to help others find the courage to break free from their own difficult/painful experiences. So, I’m opening up about something I’ve been through: surviving emotional abuse in a relationship.

If you’ve ever been in a relationship where you felt diminished, invalidated, or controlled, you might understand the emotional toll that kind of experience can take. If you’ve ever questioned whether you should speak up, or felt like the truth wouldn’t be believed, then this one’s for you. You’re not alone!

The Hidden Damage of Emotional Abuse

Emotional abuse isn’t always visible on the surface. It’s not like physical abuse, where bruises/scars tell the story. It’s in the words, manipulation, control, and the mind games. It’s when someone you trust undermines your reality, makes you feel small, or confuses your sense of self.

One of the hardest things I’ve experienced was the constant gaslighting. I’d tell my ex something was wrong, something hurt, and his response would always be: “That didn’t happen the way you think it did.” Or, “You’re overreacting, it’s not like that.”

There was one thing he used to say that still haunts me: “It’s not rape, I don’t even remember it.” The words felt like a punch to my gut. Not only did they minimize my feelings and invalidate my pain, but they made me feel like I had no right to even claim what had happened as abuse. When someone you care about tries to convince you that your reality isn’t real, it’s easy to doubt yourself.

It was easy to think “maybe I’m just being too sensitive” “Maybe he’s right—maybe I’m the problem” But let me tell you something: Emotional abuse is never your fault. The shame and guilt that comes with it can feel so suffocating, but the only person who gets to define your reality is you.

The Embarrassment and Fear of Speaking Up

Speaking out about emotional abuse, especially in the context of a relationship, can feel terrifying and/or embarrassing, it’s like you're exposing something too personal or too painful for the world to understand. And there's that nagging fear that others will think you're overreacting, or that they won't believe you. I know that fear and that’s why it took me so long to even admit to myself that what I was going through was abuse.

In moments of isolation, I used to wonder: Would anyone really get it? Would anyone believe me if I told them what had happened? I was scared of being judged, scared that my feelings would be dismissed as me simply “being emotional” or “too sensitive.” Even now, a part of me hesitates to share this openly, but I’ve learned that my voice matters, and so does yours.

The truth is, there is no shame in speaking up about abuse—no matter what form it takes. Whether it’s emotional, physical, or sexual, your experiences are valid, and your feelings are real. If someone has made you feel worthless, belittled, or unsafe, it is not your fault, and you deserve to be heard.

The Courage to Speak Up & Embrace Self-Love

Let me tell you something I wish I’d known sooner:

You don’t need anyone’s permission to take your power back. You don’t need anyone’s approval to speak your truth.

It’s terrifying to open up about

abuse, you worry about how people will react, whether they’ll dismiss your story, or if they’ll blame you for staying. You deserve to be seen and heard. Your pain is valid. Your feelings are valid. You are worthy of love and respect.

The first step toward healing is finding the courage to speak up, but the next step is learning to love yourself again. Self-love is not just a buzzword—it’s a lifeline, especially after emotional abuse. When you’ve been in a relationship that chipped away at your self-worth, it can feel impossible to reconnect with the person you once were, the person you are still underneath the pain.

But here’s the truth: Self-love is a journey, not a destination. It’s learning to honor yourself, to be kind to yourself, and to recognize that you deserve happiness, respect, and peace. It’s about reclaiming the parts of yourself that you may have lost, and nurturing the ones that have been silenced. Self-love is about saying, "I deserve better," and then believing it—every single day.

When I started my journey of self-discovery, I had to remind myself, over and over, that I was worthy of all the love, joy, and kindness I so freely gave to others. I had to start with small steps—affirming my worth, practicing self-care, and reminding myself that my feelings were valid. It wasn’t always easy, and it didn’t happen overnight, but the more I embraced self-love, the more I started to find peace within myself.

It’s OK to take time to heal. It’s OK to make mistakes. And it’s OK to not have it all figured out. Self-love is about progress, not perfection.

Breaking the Silence and Reclaiming Your Power

In my journey, I’ve learned that breaking the silence is where the healing begins. The more I speak about my experiences—no matter how uncomfortable it feels—the more empowered I become. Each word is a step toward reclaiming my voice, my worth, and my peace.

And if you’re reading this and you’ve experienced something similar, know this: You have the right to speak your truth. You have the right to say that you are hurt, that you are struggling, and that you want something better. And you are so, so brave for even considering taking that first step.

The road to healing may not be easy, but you do not have to walk it alone. There are people who will listen, people who will understand, and people who will stand with you. You are not alone.

Finding Your Voice & Embracing Your Truth

To anyone who has been in a relationship where they’ve been gaslighted, silenced, or made to feel small, I want you to know this: You have every right to speak out. Your voice is powerful, and your story matters. No one can erase your experience, and no one has the right to invalidate your feelings.

It takes courage to stand up, speak out, and claim your healing. But the courage you need has been inside of you all along. And as you find your voice, you’ll discover just how strong, resilient, and worthy of love you really are.

As you rebuild yourself, remember: You are a beautiful soul, deserving of every bit of self-love and peace this world has to offer.

With love, Aurora❤︎︎