Posted on by shirindawna

normal girls are boring.

i’ve noticed something about myself. i hold off on writing about health scares until there’s some kind of ending. some neat resolution to wrap it all up in a bow. it’s easier that way, isn’t it? you wait until the answers come, tuck the panic into a little box, and move on with your life. today, i don’t have that luxury. there’s no bow, no resolution. this week has been brutal. we’re stuck in the gut-wrenching space where everything is just…uncertain. everything is a question, and every answer feels like smoke slipping through your fingers. “it might be nothing, but it could be something.” and this time, it’s not me in the hot seat. it’s him. my husband.

people keep saying, “don’t worry, it’s probably fine.” i know they mean well, and maybe they’re right (oh please, let them be right). but i’ve heard those words before. they said it about my dad, and it wasn’t fine. they said it about me, and it wasn’t fine then, either.

so, here i am, stuck in this messy middle, the space between hope and fear, where every second feels heavier than the last. my mind’s racing, and i’m rationing my energy like it’s the last bit of air in the room. i’m careful, so careful, about who i let in. i know one wrong word could send me spiraling, and i can’t afford that right now.

i hate this part. the uncertainty. the waiting. all of it. 

Posted on by shirindawna

you’re so lame, you probably think this blog is about you.

this one goes out to the women who treat their relationships like maximum-security prisons—complete with lockdowns, surveillance, and absolutely no visitors from the opposite sex. these are the ones who seem to think that letting their partner have a female friend will somehow send the entire relationship into a tailspin. it’s like they believe their man is one conversation away from running off into the sunset with someone else. spoiler alert: if your relationship is that fragile, it’s not the friend that’s the problem—it’s you.

these women act like the mere existence of another woman is a threat, like they’ve never heard of trust. instead of building a relationship based on mutual respect and confidence, they cling tighter than a toddler holding onto a security blanket, side-eyeing any female who dares to exist in their man’s orbit. unpopular opinion: it’s not the friend they don’t trust—it’s themselves. deep down, they know their insecurity is the only thing standing between them and a healthy relationship, but instead of working on that, they’d rather play relationship cop.

they’ll stalk their partner’s texts, throw passive-aggressive comments at any woman within a 5-mile radius, and claim it’s about “boundaries.” girl, no—it’s about insecurity. if you’re more focused on who your partner is texting than on how to actually communicate, that’s a you problem. and don’t get me started on the whole “women can’t be friends with men” nonsense. if you genuinely believe that, then maybe the issue isn’t the friendship—it’s your fragile sense of self-worth.

at the end of the day, if you can’t trust your partner to have friends of the opposite sex, what you’ve got isn’t love—it’s a hostage situation. newsflash: no amount of policing is going to stop someone from leaving if they want to. so, maybe instead of treating every woman like the enemy, take a good look in the mirror and figure out why you’re so terrified of letting your partner have a life outside of you. because the real issue isn’t her—it’s the insecurity you’re not willing to face.

allegedly, of course.

this is all purely hypothetical.

Posted on by shirindawna

that’s that me espresso.

oh, the people who just can’t seem to handle it when a woman speaks her mind – what a fascinating breed. the ones who act like my voice is something that needs to be “toned down,” “polished,” or better yet, silenced altogether. let’s be real, they’re not silencing me because i’m wrong. they’re doing it because deep down, they know i’m right, and the truth makes them uncomfortable. too bad, because i’m not here to cater to fragile egos or tiptoe around the fact that i’ve got something to say. it’s never gonna be me, babe. never has been. never will be.

they slap on a smile, acting like they’re doing me a favor, telling me, “maybe you’re coming across too harsh,” or “you’d be more likable if you didn’t talk about certain things.”

oh, honey, i’m not here to be likable. if you want a watered-down version of me, go sip on someone else’s vanilla latte, because this is espresso—straight up.

these silencing types love to disguise themselves as “well-meaning,” like they’re just trying to help me out. as if i need their unsolicited advice on how to be more palatable. newsflash: i don’t need anyone to turn my volume down. i’m not some background noise for your comfort; i’m the whole damn concert, and the amps are cranked to eleven. if you can’t handle the music, the door’s right there.

here’s the real deal: they’re not silencing me because i’m too loud, or wrong, or “too much.” they’re silencing me because i make them face things they don’t want to deal with. i’m holding up a mirror to their outdated, misogynistic views, and they can’t stand the reflection. instead of evolving, they’d rather try to shut me up, like i’m the problem. but the joke’s on them because every time they try to silence me, it just makes me louder.

and let’s be honest—it’s almost funny how they think they have the power to dictate when and where i should speak. like, sweetie, you don’t have that kind of influence. women have been silenced for centuries, and look where that’s gotten us—nowhere we’re staying. i’ve got too much to say, and if you think a few snide comments or attempts to shut me down are going to work, you’re about to get hit with a reality check. i’ve got my own voice, and i sure as hell am not going to let anyone turn down the volume.

so, to the people who think they can silence me (or any other woman): take a seat. i don’t cater to other people’s insecurities, and i definitely don’t cater to people who think i should sit pretty and stay quiet. i’ve got things to say, and if that makes you uncomfortable, well, maybe it’s time to ask yourself why the truth bothers you so much.

i’ve never cared what anyone else thinks, and i’m definitely not about to start now. i’m done with other people’s rules. and their opinions? nothing but background noise to the sound of women taking up the space we’ve always deserved, no permission needed.

Posted on by shirindawna

don’t read the last page…

a couple days ago, we had to say goodbye to the second biggest bitch in our home.

tensley, our fearless, feisty, and forever loyal companion, finally gave in after 16.5 years of barking at everyone and everything that dared cross her path. from the moment she was born, she made her intentions clear-crawling right into my husband’s arms and declaring him hers. from that day on, she never left his side, ensuring everyone knew who was boss (even if she only weighed 12 pounds).

turns out, my husband has a type when it comes to small, loud, and unapologetically opinionated females, and tensley was the perfect match. she took her job seriously—no mailman, squirrel, or stray leaf stood a chance under her watch. if it moved, tensley barked at it, and if it didn’t move, well, she barked at that too, just to be safe. the neighbors will certainly miss the soundtrack she provided.

her loyalty was unmatched-tensley was glued to my husband’s side like a shadow (with a loudspeaker). as we say goodbye, we know the house will never be the same without her fierce presence. though it’s quieter now, it’s not necessarily for the better. tensley’s absence leaves a gaping hole, especially where her constant bark used to be. she was a tiny bundle of chaos.

rest in peace, sweet girl. the house is quieter, but our hearts are loud with memories of you.