Blog Faroohz

I recently got the time to go back to writing or maybe I’m in the state of mine where I need to let go, release and write things down.

And due to this “down-town” shall we say, I have had the time to finally create a landing-page or a
proper website for myself to host both my blog and my poetry under one proper domain.

 

So, this time I reverted to old blog posts and give them a re-read, and the results are terrifying.

 

Sure, my style of writing has developed to become simpler and more me sounding than before. Blogging was a thing I wanted to do on the side, while now my blog is reflection of the many random thoughts that I have on a random day. Also, my topic choices have changed since I started this back in 2010 (I was 18 years old).

 

This whole thing started for my love of writing back at DeviantArt where writers had a platform, and I was young and eager to share my poetry and thoughts at that age. I’m not someone who had an ordinary life from the get-go so becoming creative with words was just an extension to the peculiar person I was becoming.

 

So, taking a trip to the few left standing posts was great, many have been reverted to drafts for my own personal delight, and many were removed completely, but that’s not what terrified me, that was not what stopped me in place for few weeks.

 

The changes I saw while reading my own words were tremendous and this blog is a huge extension of my own personality and development.

 

This blog went from having a tagline of “My Talk Your Positive Thinking.” To “Here Comes What I Think”

 

You might not spot it, but this girl here went from one extreme to the other, caring too much and wanting to make changes in others life or help with their point of view to make things better, to only taking care of herself and caring more about herself and wellbeing.

And I can’t say I don’t love it, honestly, I love them both.

 

Those two sides of me that still live in my words and actions are what I needed to see in this not-so-great time of my life.

 

I cared enough for people to know I’m people too and it’s time to care for me. If it wasn’t for writing, I don’t know who I would become.

But I’m glad I have those words that I wrote to remind me of this fact repeatedly.

This is more a diary entry, rather than a blog post.

But since I’m going through some self-realization phase (deeper than my regular over thinking) I have concluded that my biggest to fear is to Love.

 

Love is in being in love, or loving anything that breathes even objects, cause in my short experience on this beautiful planet I have lost, misplaced, died or even taken away from me.

I know many would get the message and point I’m going after.

 

But this is becoming a true fear, like when I see a spider or a clown.

Physically affected and mentally overworked.

 

It does have something to do with the type of people and type of experiences I have had in my life, but I have got to admit I ran out of options.

 

Even with my friends, I don’t get too deep or too involved, it is part of growing up but it’s also something to do with giving up.

 

I date after a certain time has passed, all those I went out with I friended for years before taking a step forward (I have had two life changing disasters in the field) so I take my sweet time.

And yet, all the results are the same.

 

I changed the approach and I have changed the methods and yet 1+1=00100

 

There’s always something wrong with me, I have high standards, I’m always busy, I have too many guy friends or I’m not what they thought I would be.

Though, I’m just outspoken about myself in public as I am here, I give warning, I raise cautions when I must, and I always tell people what I want and what I don’t.

Yet, everyone seems the same.

 

Every new relationship, friendship and even regular encounters are becoming to be this mental game to see which category they will fit in (I have a profiling list based on the people I’ve met in my life) different profiles, same result.

 

I’ve always wanted to find the ever-lasting love, the one I once thought I found and the other one after I though was the real one, but no, what I have discovered is a relationship and marriage is not about love and rather about what fits for the other person, how much you can be someone you are not and how much you can change for them.

 

I might have failed to change for someone else, but surly I have changed so much that I’m developing fears at this age still.

In a closed society like the one I live in, it’s so easy to hear what others speak of you or even think of you, uninvited even.

It is completely okay for someone to suddenly walk up to you and speak about what they think of you or what they heard other talk about you. And if you’re anything like me there is a high chance you have no idea who are these people including the one speaking to you.

 

Through out these years I’ve been alive I have heard so many stories about me to the pointed I doubted myself for the stories seemed to be too convincing, if you caught me hearing about myself at any point I would look as interested as any other listener for I am beyond amazed of how much I can be “The Bad Guy”.

 

I’m not sad nor upset that I’m portrayed badly in someone story’s for at the end, I know the truth and most if not all the time I have evidence to support my side (if I know the people and the story is a half-truth) but by all means feel free to speak as you wish, cause there will come a time people will figure things out all on their own.

 

So, in case someone wants to play the victim, I can be the villain.

You made a mistake! It’s not you it’s me.
Bored and got time to gossip, I’m the cocaine to your nose.

What some fail to understand the fact that I am okay with this, I don’t have time to go after everyone who doesn’t like me, those who knows me know exactly who I am, but some got too much spare time.

 

Why don’t I care?

I’ve been through this way too many times and at a young age too.

 

It started in high school, when I switched schools and met the other side of society.

The supressed students and their unacknowledged presence and my over-the-top creative personality being the devil itself. Maybe my ex the innocent cheater and me the poisonous idiot who wasted more than 6 years with a loser, or the other ex and his well-crafted lies when knowing the circumstances, I’ve been though.

 

Maybe how my confidence is taken as a bad attitude, my friendliness is taken as being fake, my properness taken as being stuck-up.

 

I got a list, a very long list of this but the best part is when I see these people face to face, the confrontation is elite.

 

Funny encounters are when I see people who know me, but I don’t, feel like a star.

 

So, yes, I am “The Bad Guy” and I will always be as long as you feel temporary good about yourself.

Yesterday was International Women's Day and as a woman myself I should be celebrating!

We have come so far from the kitchen and whatever crap someone would say we came far from.

 

See my reality is different than most and I tent to live in the present rather than a past I wasn’t even part of.

I’m a daughter of a working woman that raised 5 children while my dad was a standard father who rarely came home for, he had to work.

 

But my society doesn’t represent me, and I don’t represent it either, I hate working with women in it since reality here is different than the world.

 

I’ll prove it…

 

Working women is in demand in a corporate field believe it or not. Employers seek women in certain industries and filed for a feminine touch is powerful.

But this society offers no working women, just unproper, poorly educated females who are still trying to succeed in their birth right goal of going back to the kitchen.

 

Let me put it this way…

 

A girl’s goal “where I come from” is finding a husband and there is no shame in that, I myself dream of a family of my own and a husband to share this journey with BUT I wasn’t raised as this is the only resort but rather an option I would enjoy having (ps. With my current life and how’s I going this is mission impossible) while other deem this the only purpose in life and it translates in workplace.

 

A girl where I come from is raised and prepared for her future husband, everything she is and all she’ll ever be is a wife and a mother, so when she fails in scoring a husband at young age, going to college seems a good place to scout prospects a degree is a must in case this route is a bust, so automatically a job is a good place to find the one and she will search and search until very predicted outcomes are in place (I will never go deep in that topic though)

 

So, what does that leave me with; untalented and ill experienced women to hire and work with, who has fears of loneliness and becoming a spinster which translates in an uncalled female rivalry and vindictive behaviour towards her female colleagues and bosses.

Oh, and the jealousy, sometimes I feel like I’m her non-existent husband’s ex-wife. I’m not exaggerating I am speaking from experience I swear.

And due to their poor upbringing and lack of morals you can’t really speak to them or direct them nor advise them. They have a mind of their own.

 

I didn’t make it this far being intitled with no titles, and making my fellow females understand that is just as impossible for me as to find a husband to them.

 

This is the majority, but I have to admit, I met some kick ass women married and unmarried throughout the course of my life, this post is not for them.

Disclaimer: this blog post is too personal and since my blog is created to express my own opinions in my own words, I am accepting few things that are “wrong” with me and this is my way of sharing about it.

 

I always spoke about my ADHD & OCD publicly and never took it as weakness because it is my strength in one way or another. Some might be interested in hearing about it but it’s not “cool” to have or claim having.

 

My careless sense of humor about this topic and my very studied behavior in not showing discomfort or panic is not one the highlights about having disorders. I am triggered by a close someone that knew about my OCD and saw it gave me some attention in public settings triggered their attention seeking behavior and started claiming it’s OCD too.

As the title said it; whipping water rings off the surface does not qualify you to be OCD.

It seems that some people require too much attention and mostly the ever so little attention you receive when you truly need it, so being cute and freaking out over water rings will make sure the attention is directed their way.

 

After that situation happened, I stopped mentioning it, because it is hard to explain to someone who was all about getting attention on how "clean" they are and what a “wife material” she is into listening, that this is more than just stains and being clean.

 

After that statement I must admit that being full on vocal about my OCD might have got me some negative backlash, cause I’m not trying to impress anyone with my disorder. so, I managed to make them look or feel normal, like my love for organization and standards is a smart way to do my job and not lose track of my 100 daily tasks.

 

My morning routine either at home or at the office it was all in good service for the company and my role in that place. My annoying implementation of standards and strategies are all for the calculated results and the ROI.

 

Attention for a disorder is not what I seek, empowerment is what I want and what I do.

 

I try at least!

As I like to always remind everyone that I am that marketing girl blah blah blah...
It's time to put  this post where my mouth is.

I already wrote about my story as Farah Marketing so if you want to know my background go check that out.


Every position has a survival kit no one tells you about, here are mine if you're new to the field or if you're experienced and wanna know what other are doing.

• Your job is to COMMUNICATE!

Another topic I was asked to write about on my Instagram is how to deal with negative people and have more confidence.

Now this was asked by someone who worked with me in the same hotel but didn't work with me directly. And let me tell you I do come across as a person with confidence especially at work and especially when people look at me from afar, to a point where people think I have attitude issues... lol

So... I decided not to write a how to guide on how to be more confident but to address a misconception about hard work and experience vs confidence or whatever you want to name it.

I remember when I first got my first job back in 2012 I was about to shoot myself in the head and get it over with. I was so scared to make the first tele-marketing call... now!! I was good at reading, speaking and changing up the script in training... but when it came to put all these things into action I could hear my own heart beating in my ears.
But I grew confident after each call I made... after 6 months I was so confident I would close up to 1200 calls per day for less than an hour of idle time... - my tele people would know what I'm talking about-
I was 19 and lets say it as it is, I was looked down on since everyone was older and believed themselves as much better this little kid.... 

How did I do it, trial and error... learning... gaining experience and believing in myself.
I became so good... everyone knew I was good... I was also so good at the scripts I dream about them each night and how I could make them better.

No one could tell me otherwise, even when the dim-witted degree holder came to tell me I suck or I won't make it in the long run... I felt sorry for him... he was almost 30 and I'm only 19 he must've felt bad that a "kid" could be and equal or worse.... better than him.

Every time someone said I won't make it.... it was a drive for me to do it even more...
Yes there are people who will bring you down, make you cry when you go home, or sometimes can't hold it and cry in the bathroom during the break...but just like there are people who are negative, there are the positive... listen to who makes you feel better.

My mum use to tell me what all mothers say to their kids... YOU CAN DO WHATEVER YOU SET YOUR MIND TO and that's the only voice I kept hearing among the negative noise.

I kept learning, anything my manager asked of me I took it on with an open heart -and mind- I wanted to learn everything that was going around me, I asked questions, I made connections and I always said yes to extra work.
Any challenge that was threw at me, I took it even if I failed... I'd learn!

That scare happened to me again when I first worked at hotel... I heard terms I never heard before, I remember my first revenue meeting at Holiday Inn Amman... I had tears in my eyes the GM was one to say "it all looks scary now, but you'll get use to it" and I did... I use these terms and know what they mean and how I can work them...

Simply put.... I know what I'm doing
And when someone question it... I show result... I talk and explain.
And instead of becoming a negative person with blinding pride... I became every support system and mentor I came across.

People see it as confidence, I see it as experience...
I know what I'm doing and I love what I do... tell me who can shake that?

Funny that people would confuse experience and knowledge with confidence or attitude!
but hei.... who I'm I to judge!

So I was tying to get some inspiration on what to write next, so i went ahead and asked my people on Instagram to give my ideas on what topic to write about next.

Got some really good ideas that I will be covering up in the next post coming through those upcoming months.

Topics will include Culture, Relationships and some fun topic inspired by my own freinds.

Everyone believes that their mother is the best mother on earth.
Because she is... to that child at least.

And I... like any other child in the world... I believe that mum is the most kick ass, strongest, funniest and the purest soul ever existed.
I also believe... with the little time she was in my life, she managed to raise a nice, good hearted and strong little girl. (not so little anymore... and not that strong either...just let me have it this time)

I owe my mother,
For so many things, one is her story that shadows my life every day.
The story of strength, will power and unconditional love not only to her family but to the world and eveyone around her.
She didn't like writing but she always wanted to write her story, she always said "I should write a book about my life" "I can't believe I've been through all that" "It will give people something to whine about"
If my mum did write that book... it will be mistaken for fiction... for there's a no way someone will endure what she did... and be as kind as she was, and strong as she was and as hopeful.

This is a story of strength, of hope, a story of faith and of pure love.
This is My Mother's Story...

So mum,
I will write it...
It won't be great, I won't give you justice!
You should've lived a bit more and wrote it yourself.

ps. I will try to write this as light hearted as possible, so if you read an uncalled for joke... read  pass it.

Chapter 1: My Mother Was The Strong Kind

She loved telling stories and I loved hearing them.
As the youngest and the only girl, I managed to know my mum the most, see... I have the patience to hear the same story over a 1000 time and still act like it's the first time, I even ask questions to know more, She had a nice voice and a nicer laugh!
She was always lively, talkative and spot on funny. If my mum shared a story of her own she is not sharing it because she wants to talk about herself, but more to inspire you or teach you a lesson.

Believe me, let her talk, there's nothing funny about when she gets mad!
Her stories always end with a smile or a loud laugh anyways, better than her pulling on your ear to clean up your act.

My mum was a middle child, brought up in a household of 5 sisters and 4 brothers to loving parents (at least that's what she always told me) they had so many family members like uncles and grandparents living with them (that I fail to remember who's who and when's when) but I do remember the stories.
My mum was attached to her family, especially her dad... I never met my grandfather but I've always wanted to... My granny was the best though.

Mum lived a happy childhood, it was to her! She had her brothers, sisters and so many people around and they lived a simple life. Mum didn't ask for much, she wanted to work, move to Amman and buy loads of shoes. Mum always looked good even in her school uniform... I don't measure up!

The reason my mum was a huge fan of her dad is because he always pushed her to be strong, saying stuff like "You're the daughter of a man, no man can scare you" "I know my daughters and I know what I raised... Strong girls" "Don't let anyone tell you're doing anything wrong as long as I know" "You want to go the city to work... go... I trust you" no wonder I wanted to meet him, he sounds like a great dad. but I did get to meet him and hear those words... through her!

My grandmother is nothing like my granddad... she was too kind.... tooooo kinddd
Feeding neighbours, helping other women out, my grandmother took her brothers in to raise them with her kids cause her mother died and she didn't want them to grow up on their own.
We say "Teta" for granny so... My Teta was known for always cooking more than enough food, cause you never knew who might come in and be hungry.
I remember love going to Jerash, cause it meant Teta's hugs, Teta let us do whatever we want and we get away with it and of course... THE FOOD! me eating Teta's food,and from her plate too.... not her Knafeh plate I must admit!! she was from Nablus and boyy do they like extra sweet on what's already sweet enough *Sweet heart attack 5 seconds from hapening!!*

Ending note here is ... My grandpa taugh my mum to be strong, Teta taugh her to be kind!
And my mum was the Stong Kind... who makes amzing food

Chapter 2: Proving She Was The Stronger Kind

When my mum was in 6th grade she had some gland problems which effected her growth, nothing major but her height stopped at 160cm, something that entertained me... messing with her, because I'm taller was always fun, but her comeback are 10x funnier and they burn like hell.
Whenever I call her shorty, or put my elbow on her head she gives me a face I can't describe...
The one that says "I'm gonna kick your ass if you don't take your elbow off my head" kida face! can you imagine it.
What's even funnier; is when she lashes out, I dare you to stop laughing once you hear "My hight stopped when I was in 6th grade" "They said I will fail the year, but I studied even when I was in the hospital and passed that year with flying colours" "What can YOU say for yourself you tall pine tree" "Hansagwasha" which might mean scarecrow in circassian no one knows!

I don't know what use to make me laugh, her weirdly spoken Arabic, or her the squeaky yet soft voice she use to yell at us with.

After she graduated, she went to Amman to work, She lived with my oldest Aunt (her sister).
She loved her nephews way too much, they were the world to her and having them was everything she could ask for... I was always jealous of them and of the fun stories they had.

When she was 22, my dad went to grandpa and asked her hand for marriage, I know from my mum that she felt pressured (something she taught me not to feel), she was single, living with her sister and her family, dad sounded like a good man, -grandpa said so- and she can't say no to grandpa, poor man didn't know!

See, back in the day, life was easier...
Everyone knew everyone, grandpa didn't force her but he said it's about time, mum was cool with the idea... She always talked about it like it didn't matter, that woman was carefree to the max!

Whenever she use to tell me the story, it always went something like this...
"Well I was in Amman, your dad proposed I was living with your aunt and uncle, we didn't have a wedding like I wanted to, but I remember when I took the boys (my cousins) to the cinema, it was the first cinema in Jordan, then we went to have ice cream and laughed till our stomach hurt, then there was this nice boutique I use to buy my shoes from, they bring the shoes from Italy, and there was this magazine that we use to pick styles from and give it to the tailor..... not like you these days everyone is copy paste, wear whatever you want if they say anything let them answer to me"

WHAT! yes I know!
My mum had this thing....
No matter what's the story she telling, it always twists into something that will make you laugh or at least smile, I know how she did it, cause I can do it too... simply think too fast and speak just as fast and see what comes out at the end... absolute chaos that will crack you up from confusion.
“WHAT ARE WE EVEN TALKING ABOUT”

Cause when you do that, your brain will take you to happier place. postive minds do that not regular ones. It's like she's always reminding you, that even in the bad times, remember what good! in a weird fashion.

Chapter 3: That Kind Of Strong

My mum brought us up very well, she was a working mother, a caring mother, our best friend, our own personal clown, herbal doctor.... she was unbelievable, it was like magic.
She use to wake up before we did, make us breakfast, get us ready, wait with us for bus, help us to prepare our sandwiches, coffee ready for dad, and she's looking amazing and ready for work.
That woman had magic and 5 kids to use her spells onto.

I was raised by an old woman you guys, mum had me when she was 42 so when I was 8 she was 50 (a fact I became aware of when I got her death certificate) but she didn't look that old, not how I remember her at least. Her health was bad, but no one could guess!

Mum suffered quite a bit in her life (more than a bit but lets me nice here) but it never show, she felt it... but she focused on the happier bits... when we were looking at least!

When my mum was 7 month pregnant with my third brother, she had a brain stroke due to a fall that almost killed her, she slipped and fell down, cracking her head on a marble table and passing out.
Mum went in a coma, and due to the fall she lost a lot of blood. The blood was infected with Hepatitis C (something we found out about right before she died) it was in the 70s medicine was not that advance -so they say-
My brother was fine, he was given the medical attention he needed, when he was cleared out my Teta took him to care for him in my mother's absence.
Mum on the other hand was thought dead, the chances of her waking up were slim to none.

When they were about to disconnect her from the machines..
Boo ya! my mum wakes up with just a.... memory loss!

Mum regained her memory short after, but she can't remember falling, being pregnant or anything related to the incident. Whenever she spoke about it, she used to space out, like she's trying to see something so small, far far away.
There was a small drop of blood in her brain, doctors said it only effects her memory and nothing more.
I knew about that drop of blood before I knew what happened to mum. Whenever my mum and dad got in a fight he would mention that she's mad... she was mad, mad funny!
They fought just like any married couple would, dad starts the fight, mum ends it... giggling.

She was mad though, mad positive about anything and everything, mad about her kids, mad generous, mad strong and mad funny.


When she got back to normal, or what seemed to the world as normal, mum was under the family's harsh judgment, she always told me about it, I still hear about it...
My third brother stayed at my Teta's and was brought up by her, the family claims she never asked him back... but I know she did

My mum was attached to her mum, she loved her so much, she couldn't bother an ant let alone her own mother -that gene skipped me I believe-

I will not share what I know of the story, but I'll share what she use to tell me when I ask about it.
"I may not have a memory of being pregnant with him, but he's mine" "Whenever I asked her to get him back, she tells me when you're feeling better" "Whenever we come to visit she hold on to him" "She grew attached to him" "She actually asked me keep him" "I am his mother you know"
When my brother came to live with us after Teta's death, it was hard on both of them, they both lost their mother.
quote "He must be the best, there's no other option for him, I made him and the woman who made me raised him... and no one can raise better than her" "He's not only my child he's also my brother too" "She probably did a far better job raising him than I could've"
And still... the family till this day calls her on it even after she's dead! If they only knew that she actually loved him more than us four.

It was so hard for her, I remember the morning Teta died, she came and crawled in my bed like a child would, I remember waking up to her cuddling me with tears in her eyes, she was not as strong as she thought she would be.
I was 9 years old, I remember her speech, because 10 years later I felt how she felt.

That story might took more paragraphs than expected, but it's the story that mattered the most to her, so let the tears fall and blind me from writing, I know she want this written.
Cause it tore her apart!

Chapter 4: Miraculous Kind Of Strong

Next up!
Mum becoming a medical miracle - laugh crying at the moment- but it is true.
Mum had herniated disk in all of her back disks (I don't know if I phrased this medically correct, I'm no doctor) but anyone else in her condition shouldn't be able to move, walk or do anything.
My uncle (her brother) is a physiotherapist and I remember she told me he took the x-rays to showcase it to other doctors aboard... and guess what  "They say that there's no way she can move or walk...  well I move, I walk, and I run after you guys, clean your room because your lazy little brats... you... you die when you get your period... bfff" she had a thing... I think people call it -sticking it to you at the end!- it's a talent I took notes of!

Mum was no one to break, I may have seen her weak moment when she talked to me, but never let it last, she had someone to be strong for, someone to prepare to be strong too... I hope I didn't fail her!

Oh I'm done yet!
Cause it didn't end up there, she had my forth brother then me (my brother came smoothly, I thought I was at an amusement park not a womb.... I get confused still... so I came two weeks before my time... caused her hernia.. oops), They told her not to have more children but my mum never listens, she wants a girl!!... the apple doesn't fall far from the tree after all!

When I was in 8th grade, mum got hit by a bus!
She was thrown across the street because some reckless asshole (allow me to say that) was driving on the wrong side of road... I heard the stories before but now I'm living them.
I saw my mum dying for the first time in my life, she was saying goodbye to me and her voice is barely heard, she didn't even look like mum.
I remember I stopping her, I told her "You're going to be alright, I need you" and she did stop!

One day I come back from school and hear her calling for me... now I was barely 14... I was so excited and so scared my heart was about to explode.. cause I couldn't differentiate if it's true or if I'm hallucinating. She knew how easily confused and easily excitable I am and she was waiting for me do something stupud and I did.. me, my youngest brother (who's older than me) and her were laughing cause I almost fell of the strais.
She was just back from the dead and she still had it in her to make us happy, after the accident she told me about what she felt when the bus hit her...
What mattered at the end is what she said at the end... "I came back for you... they told me you need me"

She was my miracle...

Chapter 5: Strong Enough But Not Strong Enough

They say near death expereinces really show you what matters and who matters, it makes you value you own life. Had one of those with her 2 years after the bus accident... this time in was in the car and dad driving.

I held of to her from the back, cause if there was anthing to happen to her, let it happen to me too, there is no life for me without her. she was alright and so was dad.
My thoughts on my mother changed, I knew I wouldn't survive a day without her, and no I didn't clean up my act, I was just as annoying as ever and loved her just a bit more.

Not so long after that near death experience, mum started getting pain in her stomach, to be honest... I was so used to mum being in pain... it was ordinary!
But what's not ordinary is mum saying I need to go to the hospital...
I was about to graduate from high school, I didn't know what was going on but I knew nothing good was happening, so I made sure I was there every minute of everyday... (I wasn't the greatest to be around, and I was not as strong as she was) but I managed to pull it through just for her and show her that I'm ok and it's all gonna be ok... and make a joke about it... like we always do!

The details of this expereince, were so bad... I couldn't imagine that she went through something like that before without me around (again I wasn't that great... but I wouldn't let her go through this alone)

The results cam out....

Gastric Adenocarcinoma Type C, Liver Cirrhosis, Spleen Enlargement, Swallowing in the Stomach Veins and of course as mention earlier... Hepatitis C in her blood.

Words that will haunt me till the day I die, I was only 19!
The story is quite dramatic... Sad and heartbreaking and not one I can write about for I don't know how she really felt!

But she finally felt at peace, finally felt strong enough to leave or maybe not strong enough to stay.
But she was always that strong no matter what life threw at her.

Chapter 6: In Strong Memory

Her last 2 days were an example of how great she was and how amazing she was to those around her. She had her family around her, her sons, her brothers, her nieces and her nephews surrounding her!

It breaks my heart writing about this, but my mum was such a strong example and a person I could never be. She was so nice, so kind and soo sweet, caring, loving, funny and fun!
And oh how beautiful she was... till the very end!

And until the very end she held on to life, not because she wanted to live, I know she was exhausted!
But she held on to life because of me.

She gave up her life, dreams and years for us kids, I never knew how speical I was to her until the end, I was a complete bitch at the end but she loved me still.

She didn't go because she wanted to... truth is
I asked her to... I wispered my last words to her!
And at 6:00 am that night she took off... to what I hope is a better world!

My mum's health was not the only thing, my mum is a hard example to follow, no matter what life threw at her she welcomed it with open arms... She's wasn't a religious person, but she loved god though he took what she loved and put her through situations no man can bare... she was that strong! that hopeful, that positive, that strong!
She believed god tests the ones he loves... and she always said "He must love the most" with a smirk on top! she was good and she did so much good... I know she's in a good place!

Every time I go through anything, I remember her...
Good, bad... She's always there!
I'm always scared she will come back as a ghost to kick my ass if I do something wrong or something that won't make her proud.

She was a strong woman, a beautiful soul gone too soon...
But she lived a life where giving up was not option, tears were not allowed...
She was going through hell and she managed to smile, laugh and make everyone smile with her!

No matter what people said, or did!
She knew that kindness is key!
To what I have no idea...

I wish I can be a quarter of the mother she was to my own daughter one day.
And if my daughter ever comes to life... I will tell her all about you ma'!
You better look after her like you look after me.

She was born strong, lived strong, grew old strong and until this minute her presence and her memory are just as strong! and it will always be.

I don't know if I said this many times enough, but I will always repeat it.
I write what I fail to express! and I fail quite often in that department and I call it "Socia
l Awkwardness"

Since I was a kid, I had a big problem in expressing how I feel, to a point where I came across as a mute child.
My mum was by far the only one "I spoke to" in long sentences that is, other than that... I'm was a complete failure.

Back in school I use to face so  many issues when it came to talking, I was an active kid non the less, did after school activities like art, sport and even drama classes... they were a way to express myself without talking!
My mum picked up on that and handed me a piece of paper, now of course I start drawing and doodling. One day after a literature class, I was introduced to something better than doodling, writing!

It was an assignment but writing my thoughts on the topic was such a relief, few years after I became addicted! I can finally express myself in a form that is considered art... Poetry!

Now I'm no great poet still, but I still have my very first poem that makes no sense what so ever.
Reading that mess of grammar and vocabulary vomit still brings me Joy.
It's written on blue paper taken from my diary, yes! I was that kid that had a day to day diary.
I still do.

I found out the cure to my own weird illness!

Taking all the words that fail to come out of my mouth onto a paper was therapy.
many years later I still find myself writing how I feel, in poems, diary posts, blog posts or even Facebook statuses.

The minute I'm done writing it, I start speaking  it.

Yes!
People have managed to call me dramatic, express myself a little too much and attention seeking!
To be honest I don't care what others say... it makes me feel good!
And when I share what I write online it's not to seek attention but rather have content that might either help or inspire others...
Cause before I share what I wrote I was looking for something relevant to what I was going through, and no one shared their story or one didn't not hit home well enough for me.

Couldn't say it, no one related... I wrote it.

I write everything...
I write my stories, other people stories, my wishes, my crush list and even the dreams I have while sleeping.
When I talk to someone who's going through anything one of the advices I give is... write it down, share it... It will go away.

Some use music, some use movies, some use drugs or alcohol to medicate... Writing can fit in that list of what can make you feel better.
Seeing what you think or feel on paper... is a form of freedom.

Write it down, send it the world and never look back!

And I wonder why do I get my ass in so much trouble sometimes, people always think that I'm either talking about them or simply being DRAMATIC... ooh well!

I'm planning on writing all I know and all I go through at my job.
If you didn't know writing and marketing are two of my favorite things in the whole wide world.

So, it is fitting to start of by telling you a little story of "Farah Marketing"
I didn't change my last name, and I'm not planning on doing that any time EVER!
But this is how I'm known among my peers, in my field and even among few of my friends.

It all started in 2015 when I first got the word "marketing" in my title.
I worked with an agency for few months, all young and excited to play. The agency was just a start up, so obviously the little, energetic girl will get the managerial title.
I wasn't even 21 years old.

Don't be fooled the CEO of the agency was one hell of a smart man, one I still owe and admire, he knew what he was doing looking back at it now.
When he hired me he told me that he will give me an opportunity no one will ever give to me at such a young age and after only 3 years of experience.
But like he said "I see something in you"

He said I will be handling the team and the designers, and he will teach me all I need to know about Marketing... and he did.
It was my first time as a proper manager, stayed late at the office for the first time in my career, was out preparing for a gas station opening till 3:00 in the morning, went to a different city to do work.
Making plans and strategies for the first time, being hated as a coworker also was a first.

In less than 6 months, that man managed to teach me all that he knew, yes we didn't always see eye to eye but that is also something he taught me.

One advice he gave me is to build my network, always stay relevant and connected.
And so I did...

I went to work for many brands (full time and freelance) that are highly connected to who're considered to be the VIPs of Jordan and even internationally.

But of all the advises he gave me, this was my favorite
"If you want to be successful in marketing you have to be honest"
And I remember we were talking about something completely random and not about my growth but it stuck.

I fell in love with my job, so whenever I introduced myself later on in meetings or any business opportunities, I introduced my self as "Farah... Marketing"
And not until last year did I became aware to the fact.... that so many of my previous clients or the people I worked with actually call me "Farah Marketing".

When I knew of this little fact, that 21 year old little manager was on cloud nine.
Because there are many Farahs with the same profession but when they say "Farah Marketing" they're referring to me.
I can't be anything but grateful.

Fun fact...
The agency that made me isn't even listed on my cv, not because I'm an ungrateful bitch, but because I went to work for out client shortly after...
They're called Icons51 and I will always owe them.

I can't begin to express the joy I feel knowing there will be no 2015.
It has been an eventful year and mostly educational, the lessons I've learned so far are too valuable to forget.

I've been learning how to survive on my own ever since my mother passed away in 2012, and learning who I am and how to love myself in 2013, and in 2014 I've learned to forgive and accept myself and forget the past.
Then came 2015 to fully teach me how to live and do all the things I listed above.

Self-Acceptance
I've always accepted who I am, my past, my flaws and my failures BUT it haunted me silently, as if I never really accepted them just said that I did.
Then I stood in front of my mirror looking at god's creation seeing nothing wrong, seeing nothing less than others around me rather more than anyone can ever dream of.

Self-Love
When you accept, you love.
And I love every little detail about who I am, even the not so good sides of me, I love them cause I'm worth being loved, and no one can love me as much as I love myself.
plus... when you say to other "I love that I'm..... or I love this thing about myself" you'll finally know it for certain.

Stop Surviving - Start Living
How many of us are only trying to survive life, not aware that life is not a struggle but a moment to live in... a moment to get lost in.
Life, is truly an awful thing, but once you love and accept yourself you'll realize it's an awful thing not to live every second of it and enjoy it.
With the pain and the tears, there will be always a remedy, there will always be a rainbow, rich or poor, life is not measured in dollar signs but in happy times.

True Love Exist - But Happy Endings are ONLY in Fairytales
We read, hear and watch movies about true love, the kind of love you think you're incapable of feeling, the unshaken emotions you feel towards someone not necessary showing it, just feeling it, knowing it's there.
The kind of love this world can't understand, a kind of love that can live for years waiting for a second chance, then.... you learn how to stop feeling it, learn how to let it go, after sometime, waiting will become a waste of time.

All Wounds Heal - Some Leave a Scar
It's all fair in Love and War for love is truly a battle between your heart and mind. A war against this world.
So what doesn't heal completely... wear it as a battle scare across your heart, and a medal of honour in front of the world.
Win or Lose... you "survived" it.

It's Okay to Try Again
In love and in Life, it's okay to try again!
Trying to get another chance in love, trying to get another job, trying to connect with old friends, trying to make a real change in life, trying to rebirth an old dream of yours.
It's Okay!

Priories are There for a Reason
Knowing what comes first, second, third, last and what's not on the list WILL make life easier.
For once... decisions are easy to make.
For once... I never have regrets.

Good Friends are a Treasure
They truly are, having "good" friends is a bliss...
Complete strangers who happen to care for you as much as you care for them, as if they're family. You share good/bad moments together, laugh and cry together, go out and see the world together, bring good vibes and inside jokes to any place you go...
Going the extra mile for each other, they are truly a treasure.

Family is Not Everything
Not all of us are blessed with good family members, I'm one of those people.
And I've learned that just because we share DNA it doesn't mean we share anything else other than a test result.

Work because You Want To - Not because You Have To
Money is a way to live not a need you live to meet, work in something you like, go to work cause you want to, don't let anyone disrespect you, believe in your skills, know you can give what no one else can, work to make a difference and make a change.

Only Remember what Makes you Smile
We all have bad memories, but those are only experiences we learned from, good memories are there to makes us smile and keep on remembering.
Like the first time it rained, the time you heard a good news about someone you care about,,, just smile!

If you Forgot what you Learned - Learn it Again
Humans are created to forget, so if you fall for the same mistake it means you didn't really learn the first or second time, and it's completely fine, we don't all learn at the same rate, some have to repeat.

Don't Wait for Change - Be The Change
You don't like your hair, change it.
You don't like that trait in you, change it.
You don't want that person in your life, tell them.
You hate your job, look for another.
- Don't wait for it to happen, Make It Happen!

Find your Own Personal God
Find the god you want, not the god they want you to worship, respect religion just know... we are all creations of god, he makes no mistakes, if you're different and feel kicked out of his mercy it's a lie.
He Longs to us, just as much as we Long to him.
Believe nothing else.

I've been single for years, and I've been in a relationship for years too, and I know how "unhappy"
you can feel regardless of your relationship status.

When you're in a relationship you think you're better off Alone, and when alone you're lonely, sad and in need for someone to hold.
After a while I realised there are too many good things about being single that no man -or woman if you're a guy- can compare to; Starting with:

Freedom
Freedom to go out and do whatever you want to do, freedom to flirt and not feel bad, freedom to meet whoever without the ghost lurking from behind observing everything and everyone, free to not answer your phone or put up with needless conversations at 3 in the morning, free to wear and do whatever and not forget the utter freedom of being/discovering yourself.

Advancing in Career
It can be a promotion or a raise, or even a change of career, but once you get rid off the dead weight you'll have so much time to waste, and it's best wasted at work or whatever you do for a living.

Better Friends
I don't know if it's just me, but as soon as I was off on my own. My relationship with my friends completely got better, met new ones, reconnected with old ones, and somehow I believe if I was in a relationship I won't have the time to "have friendships", Everything is more fun with good friends!

Some serious Living
do you know what that means?
I didn't but now I do, it's simply enjoying life, going out, doing crazy stuff, laughing, staying out late, the only thing you check in with is your Facebook and Foursquare... Drama Free Life aka LIVING!

Self Growth
I mentioned it before; being single gives a whole lot of time to do so much, and by doing so much you will uncover so much about yourself and grow like never before.
You will have plenty of time to change, update and reflect on your dreams, goals and wishes.
Allowing you to make mistakes and learn without anyone's judgement, learning how to love yourself since no one can love you like you do and lastly seeing your true reflection and actually appreciating it.

You'll Look BETTER than ever.
I don't what's the science being this, but it is true!
When I look at old pictures I'm shocked of how much I let myself go!
I looked okay! but I also looked like I was done with it.

Because your Happy!
when being single is no longer a worry but a choice, this is when you are happy no matter what happens.
If you found someone new, GREAT!
If you remained single, GREAT!
And this is a great state to be in since you no longer have the need for someone to come and make you feel complete... there's nothing missing here anyway.