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The Inner Thoughts of a Perimenopausal Woman
On Household Management, Overgiving, and Running Out of Bandwidth There should probably be an official translator for the inner thoughts of a perimenopausal woman. Not because we are irrational. Not because we are angry all the time. But because there seems to come a point in midlife where the part of us that spent decades smoothing things over quietly packs up its bags and leaves. For years, our default response to everything was simple: It’s okay. It’s not a big deal. I’ll just do it. I’ll just clean it. I’ll just buy it. I’ll just absorb it. And then one day, somewhere between fluctuating hormones, interrupted sleep, chronic fatigue, decades…
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An Example of My Jumbled Mind (The Forty-Tab Brain)
I talk a lot about having “forty tabs open,” but let’s be real—it isn’t just about being busy. It’s a survival mission that lives entirely inside my head. And look, I’m not trying to make myself sound like the center of the universe. I know, deep down, that life would go on even without me. The world doesn’t stop because a mom takes a break. I also don’t want to belittle the massive part my husband and kids play in keeping this family moving—they are the ones spinning the wheels every day. But even when the wheels are rotating perfectly, the mental load is just… there. It’s the invisible architecture.…
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Hijabi’s Path to Jane Austen’s Longbourn
It might seem like a stretch. What does a 19th-century Englishwoman—preoccupied with balls, bonnets, and social standing—have to do with a 21st-century Muslim mother of ten in the UAE? On the surface, our worlds are oceans apart. But when I open a well-worn copy of Pride and Prejudice, I don’t feel like I’m reading about a stranger. I feel like I’m looking into a mirror. The Path Through the Woods I’ll admit, my love for Austen didn’t start with the dense, original prose. English is not my first language, and the intricate, looping sentences of the 1800s were a challenge to grasp. I took the scenic route. I started with…
