Posted on by shirindawna

get on the broom.

after watching wicked, the musical that somehow manages to be about witches, systemic injustice, and friendship all at once, i’ve been thinking a lot about what it means to find the people who will get on the broom with you. if you’ve seen the stage production, you know the story goes beyond “defying gravity.” but if you’re only familiar with the upcoming movie, that’s where it ends—a moment of defiance, courage, and choosing to rise above the noise.

it’s the perfect stopping point, really, because that’s where the magic happens. elphaba makes her choice, and she flies…but she doesn’t do it alone. it’s her friendship with glinda, complicated and imperfect as it is, that gives the moment its weight. watching that, i couldn’t help but think about how important it is to find the people in your life who would stand by you at that edge. the ones who wouldn’t just cheer from the ground but would climb on the broom too.

the truth is, not everyone will. some people will hesitate, worried about what the crowd will think. others might step back entirely, afraid of what it costs to stand beside someone who’s choosing to go against the grain. some people avoid conflict at all costs. they shrink to fit in, stay quiet to keep the peace, and dodge anything that feels uncomfortable. it might seem harmless until you need them. if they’ve never stood up for themselves, why would they stand up for you? when the pressure is on, they hesitate. they retreat. maybe they even excuse it with, “i didn’t want to make it worse,” or “i wasn’t sure what to say.” and just like that, you’re standing at the edge, broom in hand, flying solo. and that’s okay. not everyone is meant to take that ride with you.

…those who hesitate, the ones who can’t quite make the leap? they’re the cowardly lions of your life. they may mean well, but fear keeps them grounded, unable to roar when it matters most.

but the ones who do? they’re everything. these are the friends who don’t need to be convinced. the ones who are ready to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with you, even if it means risking their own comfort or reputation. they don’t just go along for the ride when it’s easy…they show up when it’s hard.

it’s a theme that’s been on my mind a lot lately, not just after wicked, but also after reading the lion women of tehran. the women in that book remind me of elphaba in so many ways. they are fierce, defiant, and willing to risk everything to stand up against oppression and fight for what’s right. they don’t just follow the crowd. they roar against it. but what struck me most about them was their strength as a collective. their power wasn’t just in their individual bravery but in their willingness to support one another, to build a sisterhood that refused to be silenced. they didn’t just get on the broom, they carried each other when it got too heavy to fly alone.

life has its share of mobs. crowds that will try to pull you back down to the ground. that’s why you need friends who can hold their ground, who choose integrity over ease, and who will always have your back. the lion women of tehran had that kind of strength. they remind us that true power comes from solidarity, from finding the people who will fight beside you, even when the world is against you.

maybe this resonated with me because, truth be told, i’ve always been a little witchy myself. not in an obvious way, but in the sense of owning the parts of me that feel a little rebellious, a little unconventional. witches (and lion women) have always been a symbol of women who refused to play by the rules, and i’ve never been one to follow a script. and like any good witch, i know that my power is amplified by the people who stand beside me. the ones who see the magic in me and aren’t afraid to rise alongside it.

watching wicked and reading the lion women of tehran reminded me that those friendships and alliances aren’t just nice to have…they’re essential. whether you’re defying gravity or standing up against a system that wants to silence you, you need people who will get on the broom. if you don’t have them yet, don’t settle. hold out for the ones who remind you that flying together isn’t just easier…it’s everything.

and if you already have those people in your life, hold on tight. there’s nothing more powerful than a friend who chooses you, every single time.

Posted on by shirindawna · 2 Comments

back it up: a love story.

the street we live on is narrow, with parking allowed only on one side. when cars are parked, there isn’t enough room for two vehicles to pass each other. it’s an unspoken rule: whoever is closer to the entrance of the street backs up to let the other car through. it’s basic neighborly etiquette, but apparently, not everyone gets the memo.

today, i pulled onto our street just as another car started coming down toward me. normally, he’d be the one to back up since reversing for me would mean backing out onto a busy road with constant traffic. but instead of following this understood rule of decency, this guy barreled down the street, demanding i back up onto the main road.

here’s where things got interesting.

my husband, who was in the backseat with our kid, jumped out of the car so fast i barely had time to blink. he saw what was happening, this guy choosing to make his convenience my problem, and immediately stepped in.

“she’s not backing into a busy street. you need to back up your damn car.”

now, i don’t think the guy even knew my husband was in the car because his energy shifted as soon as he saw him standing there. but instead of doing the right thing, he doubled down. he refused to move, staring me down like he was daring me to budge.

i put my car in park. he put his car in park. the audacity of this man, i swear.

and then my husband yelled.

not just yelled. YELLED. the kind of yell that makes you sit up straighter, whether you want to or not.
“back up! i have a kid in this car, and she is not backing into a busy road!”

the guy stared at him for a second, weighing his options, before he finally finally threw his car in reverse and backed up the damn street like he should’ve done in the first place.

here’s the thing. my husband is one of the calmest men i know. he’s not a yeller. he doesn’t lose his temper. it takes a lot to get him worked up. which is why this whole scene was exponentially hotter. he wasn’t acting out of anger, he was acting out of principle. he saw what was happening, and he made it his mission to shut it down immediately.

there’s something about that calm, steady demeanor snapping into action at the perfect moment. when a man who doesn’t yell decides to raise his voice, you know it’s serious. and in this case, it was serious in all the best ways.

i’ve been driving this street for years. i know exactly how these interactions go, and i’ve dealt with my fair share of entitled drivers. i’m not one to back down or shrink myself to avoid conflict. i will stand my ground when someone decides to be unreasonable. but this time, before i even had a chance to handle it, my husband was already out of the car, making it clear that this guy’s behavior wasn’t going to slide.

he saw the imbalance, the entitlement, and the audacity, and he called it out. loudly.

i’ll admit, there’s something almost primal about watching your husband step in and yell at another man on your behalf. it wasn’t just the act of yelling. it was the acknowledgment, the validation, and the unapologetic protection that hit me straight in the chest.

it wasn’t just about the yelling. it was about the message behind it.

he didn’t step in because he thought i couldn’t handle it, he stepped in because he wanted to. because he saw someone treating me unfairly and refused to let it slide. because he didn’t want me backing into a busy road with our kid in the car just to appease someone else’s ego.

he didn’t just yell for me, he yelled for what was right.

that moment wasn’t just about protecting me physically. it was about recognizing the subtle ways women are often expected to make accommodations, to avoid conflict, to bend so someone else doesn’t have to.

he didn’t let me bend. he stepped in, backed me up, literally and figuratively, and told this guy, in no uncertain terms, that this wasn’t happening on his watch.

it’s one thing to feel loved. it’s another thing entirely to feel backed up. to know your partner sees what’s happening, understands the dynamics at play, and steps in without hesitation to make sure you’re not navigating it alone.

instead of letting me shoulder the weight of this guy’s behavior, he stepped forward, voice raised, and made it abundantly clear.
“i’m here with her. you don’t talk to her that way.”

he just wanted to make sure this man understood that i wasn’t alone in this moment. and then he followed it up with something that made me want to marry him all over again.
“i know men treat women differently, and i’m not going to let that happen here.”

that was it. that was the line that took me out.

it wasn’t just the acknowledgment of the imbalance. it was the fact that he called it out, boldly and without hesitation. he saw it, named it, and made it clear that it wasn’t going to fly in his presence.

and let me tell you, that kind of awareness and action is sexy.

it’s sexy because it’s rare.

it’s sexy because it’s not performative.

it’s sexy because it says, “i see you. i hear you. i’m here for you.”

i don’t need someone to fight my battles for me. i’ve been handling myself just fine for years. but there’s something about having a partner who steps in, not because you need them to, but because they want to. because they know the world doesn’t always give you the respect you deserve, and they’ll be damned if they stand by and let it happen on their watch.

it wasn’t just attractive. it was loyalty in action. it was a reminder that i have someone in my corner who gets it, who doesn’t diminish what i go through, and who will back me up without hesitation.

that moment wasn’t about yelling. it was about what the yelling represented. love, respect, and an acknowledgment of what it means to be a woman in a world that too often dismisses you.

and yeah, i’ll say it again. it was a little hot. if looks could conceive, we’d already be picking out baby names.

Posted on by shirindawna

let them.

it’s become a mantra of sorts…a quiet, almost passive permission we give to the world around us. let them. it’s simple, freeing in theory, but it’s not that easy. it’s the ultimate “don’t sweat the small stuff” whisper to ourselves, yet it’s much more nuanced than that.

let them leave without explaining themselves. let them cancel plans last minute. let them say what they need to say, even if it cuts. let them live however they need to live. the concept is about relinquishing control, the impossible, gut-wrenching, soul-baring release of your grip on other people’s actions and, by default, your reactions.

i’ve tried it. letting people do their thing, letting them show you who they are without you trying to manage, control, or convince them otherwise. let them, right? but here’s the thing: letting them doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. it doesn’t mean you don’t sit there with the silence after the storm, feeling the ache of the absence, the sting of unmet expectations. it doesn’t mean you stop caring.

but it does mean you stop holding your breath for people to be different than who they are.

i used to get wrapped up in the idea of people. how they could be, if they just did this or that, or if life hadn’t jaded them, or if they cared less about what others think, or if they just tried harder, or if they weren’t so insecure. the fantasy of potential is a dangerous thing. but “let them” is a reality check. people are who they are, and they will do what they want to do with or without your input, your nudging, or your wishes.

so what happens when you “let them?” it doesn’t mean you lose your boundaries or lower your standards. it just means you stop taking on the burden of changing someone else. you step back and let them walk their path, make their choices. and you decide what you want to do with the aftermath.

let them show you who they are, and believe them when they do.

there’s a quiet power in that. it’s not about giving up or being indifferent; it’s about acknowledging that everyone is living their own experience. the way they treat you, the choices they make, that’s their business. how you respond? well, that’s yours.

so, the next time someone disappoints you, falls short, or doesn’t meet your unspoken expectations? let them. and let yourself walk away if you need to.

because at the end of the day, it’s not just about letting them do what they do, it’s about letting yourself choose peace over control. and maybe, just maybe, that’s the real win.

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.