Earlier today, I shared a message with my community on social media about the ongoing conflicts and current Palestinian genocide happening in the Middle East.
For those of you who don’t know, I’m a Lebanese immigrant and the daughter of the former Commander of the Special Defense in the Lebanese militia.
I’ve seen firsthand the devastating effects of war trauma and PTSD on a mind, body and soul level, which is why I’ve dedicated so much of my life to finding (and educating) the healing remedies available to those who suffer from these conditions.
I am also all-too-familiar with the nuance that can arise from the historic conflicts between neighboring countries and the devastating suffering that is felt regardless of background or religion.
Maybe not too surprising—I was always the black sheep of my family.
I grew up in America away from all of my relatives. I refused to continue practicing Catholicism. I challenged my father my entire life when 300 grown men would normally obey every word he spoke. I questioned every narrative I was taught to believe. I openly practice divination despite my bones remembering the persecution that was experienced. I created a relationship with God that you can’t find in any book. And, perhaps most importantly, I speak up even if my voice quivers.
If you relate to this, then you know, this isn’t a life I would choose if I believed I had another option.
When I speak of integrity, I don’t use it as a buzzword. I really mean it, which is why I hold myself to a high standard and honor the responsibility that comes with that.
This is also why, when I’m witnessing innocent men, women and children being slaughtered, I cannot stay silent. Even if these same people caused bloodshed in my country. Even if these same people once kidnapped my father in an attempt to kill him.
It would be easy to hate those who have wronged us, to hold on to that anger and use it as justification for whatever mayhem was to follow, but there is a cost that comes with that and it’s a price too heavy to bear for me. And the reality is, there are people in the world who have had to mourn the loss of their loved ones due to actions by my own people.
So when does it end?
Some of my most beautiful friendships are with people who are Muslim. People who, had my circumstances been different, I wouldn’t have been allowed to talk to or befriend. People I would’ve been raised to fear and hate.
I couldn’t figure out what to do with what’s happening in the world right now, and doing nothing wasn’t an option, so I tried to focus on what my strengths are. What is the gift I have to offer this world?
And that’s emotional safety.
The one thing that has been a constant in my life is people sharing their hearts with me. I always tend to cross paths with people—whether it be friends, lovers or strangers—during the most difficult time in their life, and sometimes I’m not even aware of it.
But God tends to bring me the battered and bruised and for a long time I never knew what I was being asked to do, until I realized that I just had to be me. I had to do what I was naturally good at, which is listen and provide some compassion.
So, that is my offering to anyone of Middle Eastern descent who is in need of a safe space during this time.
For the next month, I’ve opened my books for one-hour support calls for a donation. The amount doesn’t matter to me. What matters is that you feel seen, heard and safe.
Again, this is solely for those of Middle Eastern descent at this time, so please share with whoever you think can benefit.
If you’re ready to be the change you want to see in this world—if you’re ready to bring peace to the Middle East—come sit with me.
Xo