Dear Muslim Men, 


Dear Muslim Men,

You keep asking me why I’m not married yet.  The truth is,  there are a plethora of reasons.   What it really comes down to though is the men I meet behave more like boys than they do men.   So what can you do to win my heart?   Here are a couple of things:

1. Chase me.

Yes,  you heard me right.  I don’t approach men, I am approaced.  You see, I’m old school like that. So if you’re expecting me to come to you,  it’s not going to happen.  Befriending me is only going to get you in my friend zone.   And if you don’t step up and say anything, except subtle or ambiguous clues of interest,  then it’s not happening.   You really need to man up brother and say what it is you want.  There’s nothing more attractive than a man who goes after what he likes.

2.  Be a gentlemen.

As I said in the previous point, I’m old school.  I like men who hold open doors for me, cover the bill when we’re out, and if we’re not in the same city,  make efforts to visit me rather than asking me to come visit them – especially the first time.   If I’m going to be carrying your baby,  I need to know that you can take care of me and I can depend on you.

3.  Show me why you’re my one.

If you’re head over heals over me,  it doesn’t mean I am.  While the fact that we’re “courting” shows that I’m interested in you,  don’t expect me to start writing you poems and tattooing your name on my heart after a week.   I’m flatteted you feel the way you do about me,  but if I don’t feel the same way,  you have to give me time,  and show me why I should feel the same about you too.  There’s nothing more frustrating then a man forcing you to love him at the same level that he loves you.   Love can’t be forced, it’s sown and needs time to grow.  Water it, shine sunlight on it and then expect to reap the rewards, not before.

While it’s true that a picture is worth a thousand words,  actions are what’s needed.  Painting a picture for me of how our marriage will be won’t make me ready to say yes.   You haven’t even bought me a cup of coffee yet and I’m supposed to believe I can depend on you?  You see, while yes – our biology dictates that words work magic for us (women i.e), you’re forgetting we’re not teenagers in the heat of our emotions. I look at your words + ACTIONS.  And actions is capitalized, underlined and in bold face here.  So yes,  please show me rather than tell me.

4. Don’t expect me to emotinally commit to you without a ring on my finger.

I think this is one of the most frustrating things I find with Muslim men today.  They expect you to emotionally commit to them from the second you start talking to them.   They keep asking questions like,  “what will you do for me?”, “what are you willing to sacrifice for me”, etc.  It’s all about me, me, me.  Meanwhile,  they haven’t done anything for you yet except talk on the phone with you.  I’m sorry brother,  but I don’t need to be  at your every beck and call,  your daily cheerleader, stroking your ego,  etc before you’ve even shown any real commitment.  Don’t expect me to play “wifey” or house with you if we ain’t even married – and this includes emotional support.  You want emotional support,  put a ring on it,  or keep moving.

5.  Please work on yourself

Let’s be real here.   You’re interested in me because you like my figure,  how active I am and that I take care of my body.  Meanwhile,  you don’t hit the gym,  don’t do any exercising,  and eat everything and expect to be with a model.  Really bro?   It’s not only men who find fit woman attractive,  but us woman do too – especially guys with six packs ūüėČ. Unless you’re driving a maserati and live in a mansion, I suggest you buy that gym membership and start eating healthy.  Saying things like,  “You’ll be my motivation to start working out and we can do it together when we’re married,” ain’t gonna cut it.  Neither will,  “You’ll be in charge of what I eat at home and pack my lunch,  so I’ll eat healthier then and lose weight in the process.”  Need to see you doing it now to know that you’re about that life.  Besides, I’m interested in marrying the better version of yourself,  not creating it for myself.

So,  when I find a man who:

– Isn’t shy to approach me and make his interest known
– Treats me like the lady I am
– Shows me why he’s the one
– Doesn’t try to take advantage of my kindness while not giving anything but words in return
– Works to improve himself

Then, I’ll get married.   In the meantime,  I’ll continue to be happily single and dodge bullets.

Sincerely yours,

The Hibster



I’m no stranger to pain, albeit I wish I was,

But somehow, some people seem to think I am,

I don’t know if it’s the smile on my face that confuses them,
Or the general positive nature of my disposition and spirit,

But the reality is,  we all experience pain,
Every.  Single.  One of Us. Not one of us immune.

It’s a rite of passage in life really, and
Without it, we wouldn’t appreciate comfort or good health.

Pain can be sharp and overbearing, however
We decide if we will allow it to take over our spirit.

We can either dwell on our pain and allow our minds to suffer with it,  or we can train our minds to overcome it.

As a wise person once said,
“Pain is inevitable. Suffering is optional.”

She Lived

‚ÄčI was once asked by a psychotherapist what I want to be written in my obituary.   The question threw me off guard.  I didn’t really know what to say to be honest.   It’s not because I didn’t know what I wanted out of life,  but because my life isn’t predictable in that way.   I honestly can say I don’t know where I’ll be next week,  or next month,  let alone a year from now.  The best way to explain my life is a bunch of blanks that time seems to fill in in whatever shape or form.

While some people have linear lives, my life looks more like  one of those doodles preschoolers  draw.   It’s  colorful, fun, inexplainable,  and mindboggling all at the same time.   And to me,  it’s just perfect.

I answered the question with how I projected my life would be as a young adult,  loving wife,  mother,  published author,  successful in whatever career I settled on, etc.

What I wish I would have said though is the following:

I want my obituary to be two words: She LIVED.  And when I die, those who knew me will read it with a smile and a tear in their eyes,  because they know how I lived and know it to be the truth.

Refugees are people like you and me

wpid-2015-11-23-13.24.18.jpg.jpgThey say you never really know what others are going through unless you’ve been in their shoes. ¬† Many studies¬†that have been conducted have shown that¬†those from lower socio-economic statuses are actually the ones who give more. ¬†They’re just more altruistic, they give more often and donate more. ¬†Why? ¬†Because they’ve been in situations were they had to depend on others, as a result, they can empathize with those in need more and are more giving. ¬†Just look on youtube at those social experiments that many have been conducting pretending to be either homeless or broke and see who’s willing to help them. ¬†It’s the homeless and those who are worse off who help the most.

Today, I was helping my aunt pack up clothes, shoes, bed sheets, comforters, jackets, etc. to donate to the Syrian refugees. ¬†The instructions she gave my cousins and I was, if you haven’t used it or worn it for a year, put it in the pile. Don’t just put things you don’t like in there, refugees ¬†are people just like us who were forced into this situation of need.

While my cousins and I were happy to be able to help out by giving away things that others could make better use of, my aunt though, showed much more compassion and zeal than all of us combined.  It was my older cousin who made me realize that her mom was like this, because it hit closer to home for her.

Her¬†mom and dad came here as refugees, fleeing persecution from the war in Somalia. ¬†While my cousins are privileged to be born into a family who have now established themselves here and live in a country that’s stable and safe, their parents didn’t have the same luxury.

Fleeing Somalia in the late 80s, they were forced to leave everything behind, go from country to country and stay in refugee camps, before they were able to finally settle here in Canada.

If anyone knows what the Syrian refugees are going through, my aunt and uncle¬†surely do. ¬†And it was evident as we were going through the items. ¬†Things that I wouldn’t think was needed, my aunt would say, “That’ll come in handy.” ¬†For instance, there was a roll of hemp thick string in the garage that I was putting aside, and when she saw it, she said, “While the UNHRC provides tents, kids being kids will sometimes cut the straps, etc. and a roll like that¬†will come in handy in putting the tent back together.” ¬†And then there was a comforter with it’s pillow cases, and my aunt was explaining all the ways they’d be able to make use of it.

Perhaps if all these people who are engaging in all this negative talk about Syrian refugees in the media and social media actually had a chance to meet a refugee, they would think otherwise.  They would realize that these people are people just like us.  They are doctors, lawyers, teachers, shop keepers, mothers, fathers, etc., who have been put in this unfortunate situation, and have been forced to leave their homes for their own safety.

These people are just like you and me. ¬†Wouldn’t you want people to help you out if you were in a similar situation?

Short Story: ‘Guess They Were Right

I could hear the howling noise as I lay in bed under my covers. There was something in the woods. It was only a matter of time before it attacked us. I told mom and dad that it was coming for us, but they didn’t believe me. They never do.

‚ÄúThere aren‚Äôt any monsters in the woods sweetie. Monsters aren‚Äôt real,‚ÄĚ mom would assure me as she kissed me goodnight.

‚ÄúI know I‚Äôve seen deer, some rabbits and squirrels, I don‚Äôt think I‚Äôve seen any two meter tall wolf-like animal with sharp teeth kiddo. I think we need to start monitoring what you watch,‚ÄĚ dad advised.

Every night, as I lay in bed, I see it through my window, staring at me with its piercing green eyes. I could almost feel its breath in the air. I’d close my eyes hoping it would disappear, but when I’d opened them, it was still there. It wanted me to see it. Why?

I wasn’t going to sit and wait around to find out that answer. If no one else was going to stop it, I was.

When mom and dad fell asleep, I put on my red hoodie, went to my dad’s study, and put his 9 mm in my backpack. I grabbed my picnic basket I had packed earlier, and off I went into the woods.

I found a spot next to this old willow tree and sat down, with my back against the trunk, the gun tight in my hands. I was going to stop it once and for all.

A while later, I heard something rustling just ahead of me. I pointed in the direction and took a shot. Thud.

By the time the police arrived, they found me covered in blood, caressing the dead deer in my lap.

little gir



So for Day 13 of my Blogging101 course, we had to participate in a blogging event.  I chose the Photo-Fiction Challenge where I had to write a short story under 300 words based on the photo above.  Hope you enjoyed it. :-)

Short Story: Still it Hurts

capAfter dusting the room, she sat down on his bed, flattening the duvet with her hand. Thoughts started to race through her mind, as they often did whenever she remembered him. Holding his baseball cap, she could see him jumping up and down in sheer jubilance, with a wide smile and sparkles in his green eyes after winning his softball game. She couldn’t have been more proud of her little boy. Justin continued playing until 10th grade, when his mood began to suddenly change. Never would she have imagined this boy full of life, would decide to take his own.


So for Day 13 of my Writing101 course, we had to pay attention to our word count. ¬†I chose the prompt where I had to write a short story in 100 words. ¬†Since it is Survivors of Suicide Week this week (November 16 – 19, 2015), I thought I would write a short story (fiction) about a mother’s grief.


On Location


I sit here on a rock by the river side, enjoying a brisk autumn day. The water gently flowing down, creating a hissing and an occasional blup sound as the water hits the rocks, providing me with white noise. As my eyes follow up the river, I observe as the trees gently sway in the wind, and just above, the cumulus clouds appear as though they are snowcapped mountains in the backdrop.

I’m looking up at the sky now, trying to see if I could make out¬†shapes in the clouds. ¬†As¬†the sun begins to shine through the clouds, blinding me, I look back down into the water, and watch as every so often, a fallen leaf sashays in the water, going downstream. I can still feel the warmth of the sun hitting my face. ¬†I take a deep breath, enjoying the earthy crisp air. ¬†A dandelion seed now catches my eye while it floats across towards the other side of the river, dancing to the tune of the breeze.

As I’m taking this all in, all of a sudden a gush of wind appears, and the branches in the trees start swaying forcefully. ¬†Grey clouds begin to fill the sky, covering the sun. ¬†The vibrant fiery autumn colours are now cast in a shade of darkness. ¬†The river is no longer flowing downstream, and¬†being forced to change its path,¬†the water¬†now¬†hitting the river bank, more forcefully. ¬†More leaves begin to fall and find their¬†way to the ground, only to be picked up again and blown further, at times¬†being lifted up into the air again before gravity pulls them back down.

I begin to feel the chill of the frigid air being blown across my face.  As I turn away to the side, I see drops of rain beginning to hit the water, the force of the wind not allowing it to ripple.  More and more leaves are finding their way into the water now.

And just like that, the wind begins to subside, but the sky is still grey. Before long, the sun peers through the clouds, and starts warming the air again.  Its reflection drawing a path towards me.  The river falls back into its downhill beat.  The leaves that have yet to have fallen, have now been re-iluminated, displaying their fiery autumn colours, as they did before.

And such is life.  A storm will break out, forcing you to change your path.  But the sun always comes back out, eventually.  You just have to wither the storm.