I don’t have autism

On my Instagram story, I shared some TikToks from @paigelayle explaining autism in girls and I shared my own experiences as an autistic woman. For International Autism Day (April 2nd) I want to talk about this topic in my blog. Now you may be wondering why is the title "I don't have autism"? Many people around me can’t believe, deny or don’t accept that I’m autistic. So during this blog post, we are going to cover many things about autism, yay!

Get yourself a drink, maybe a snack or two and let’s dive into this!

First off, what is ASD (Autism Spectrum Disorder)? According to the National Institute of Mental Health: Autism spectrum disorder (ASD) is a developmental disorder that affects communication and behaviour. Although autism can be diagnosed at any age, it is said to be a “developmental disorder” because symptoms generally appear in the first two years of life.

According to the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-5), people with ASD have: - Difficulty with communication and interaction with other people. - Limited interests and repetitive behaviours. - Symptoms that impair the person’s ability to function properly in school, work, and other areas of life.

Autism is known as a “spectrum” disorder due to its wide variation in the type and severity of symptoms people experience. It is not linear. Think of it as a colour wheel where each colour represents a trait. The person with ASD is in the middle and for each trait they ‘score’ high, low or none. Everyone has their different forms of autism. ASD occurs in all ethnic, racial and economic groups. While autism is a lifelong disorder, treatments and services can improve a person's symptoms and ability to function.

Okay, okay, you're imagining a stereotype right? Let me guess: It's Sheldon Lee Cooper from The Big Bang Theory? Haha. Often when we think of autism, we imagine a white (young) man. He has a certain attitude, makes slight eye contact, is probably good at math and has little to no empathy. We rarely think of a woman or someone of colour. In the medical world, everything concerning autonomy is focused on that of a white man. There is still so much to discover regarding female autonomy.

 What are the general traits of someone with ASD? So we now know that it’s a congenital disorder in the brain. Everything you see, hear, smell or feel, people with ASD process in a different way than ‘normal’ people. Imagine it like this: you see the world like a movie, someone with ASD sees the world similar to a pile of photos. While you see it as a movie you understand what is happening, what others mean or feel. It takes a lot of effort and time for an autistic person to process all the information to understand what is happening.

Although ASD is different for everyone, most struggle with the following: - Not always being able to understand what the other person is thinking and feeling. This makes it seem as if an autistic person shows no interest in others, this isn’t always the case. - Communication is difficult. It's not just about what someone says, but also how it’s said. Is it serious or a joke? What are the person's facial expressions? Someone with ASD often cannot read this well. It’s also possible that there is little to no eye contact, or they look past you. Some autists have a different way of communication e.g. talking, difficulties with speaking or they can’t speak at all. Furthermore, most people with ASD prefer one-to-one contact. An autistic person does not like small talk, they’re straightforward and very honest. When it comes to the interests of someone with ASD, they can talk about it enthusiastically which makes it seem like they are talking to you instead of talking with you. - Imagination. Someone with ASD finds it difficult to look into the future. But we are the best at fantasizing! The pitfall is that the line between fantasy and reality can be vague. - Difficulty with (unexpected) changes. Imagine someone with ASD suddenly get a visitor, 9 out of 10 times they won’t like it. They appreciate knowing this in advance. - Sensory stimulus experience. Think of feeling, hearing, sight, smell and taste. A person with ASD may experience these stimuli as hypersensitive and cannot filter them out or they’re not bothered by it at all. - Someone with ASD has excellent detail perception. They are accurate, good at analysing and perfectionistic. - Difficulty keeping an overview. When tasks are given it helps to give them one by one. - People with ASD are more prone to gaslighting (a form of manipulation that aims to make the other person question their sanity by outright denying or telling the other person that they’re crazy or exaggerating) sometimes we don’t know who we really are in terms of identity, we quickly take blind trust in others with whom we have a relationship (platonic, family, romantic, professional, etc.)

 What are the traits of a woman with ASD? We talked about the general traits, but why is ASD slightly different in women? The main difference is that they manage to camouflage and compensate for their autism. Otherwise known as masking. Women unconsciously copy/teach themselves socially desirable behaviours that they’re used to in their environment, which makes them appear more communicative without this fitting for them as a person.

It is often the case that a woman with ASD has no idea that she is masking, this is out of a desire to belong. They unconsciously want to meet the expectations of their environment and they go beyond their boundaries much faster.

Other traits of women with ASD: - Switching between tasks requires a lot. Imagine a woman with autism with her family. Both housekeeping and family care require quite some planning skills. She's going to cook dinner. From the thousands of options of dishes, she has to choose one and do the right shopping. She should start timely, taking into account when everyone is home and making sure all food is warm at the same time. There could be a possibility that the family is not home on time, ruining the plans. Pff, the idea just gave me a headache. When a woman with ASD has to arrange all of this, it’s extra difficult than it can already be for a ‘normal’ person. - Setting priorities and keeping an overview is difficult, especially when one is overstrung, they can lose overview and other issues arise. - Most of the time a woman with ASD keeps eye contact. - Emotional problems often play a bigger role than behavioural problems, as a result of which a diagnosis such as depression will be made far more quickly than autism. - Women with ASD are focused on understanding and anticipating social rules. Such as masking manners of others. The masking won’t be 100% effective because it costs a lot of energy and is not their character. Being overstrung is not noticed by the outside world because it’s an internalized struggle. These women can observe well and see how they fail at something that doesn’t seem to bother others, which reinforces their feeling of 'being different'. - There is a fair to clear presence of imagination. - Because women with autism often have a higher sensitivity, they perceive a lot of stimuli and may have difficulty with changes. Routines can be helpful for them. - Women with ASD can observe and think in detail. They’re also very creative. - There is a great sense of righteousness amongst women with ASD, they’re reliable, honest and hard workers.

 Why is it difficult to diagnose a woman with ASD early? Now that you have this knowledge you might think “But why is this so complex?" or you understand why it’s not that simple. Let’s keep the information above, the traits of women with ASD, at the back of our minds while talking about this due to its importance.

The fact that women with autism often develop other issues can ensure that a social worker or caregiver especially sees those (additional) issues. Because autism is less common in women, social workers, therefore don’t get the idea that ASD may be behind their depression or anxiety. This grey area is reinforced by the fact that women with autism often do their utmost best to develop social skills.

For example at school. The teachers are more likely to notice problems in boys than in girls. They often don’t stand out because the teacher perceives the girls with ASD as less problematic. But their peers do notice them 'being different', which makes it difficult for girls with autism to find correlation and feel vulnerable or also get bullied.

There is a great lack of ASD specialist health care psychologists. GPs, psychiatrists and psychologists are also still unfamiliar with women and autism. These women with ASD are more likely to be treated for other disorders such as depression, borderline or a compulsive disorder, but ultimately their complaints appear to stem from their autism.

 What are the taboos surrounding autism? Although autism is equally common in all cultures, it’s less often recognized by communities from people of colour. This is partly because the taboo around autism is still very large. It’s often thought that autism is always associated with a mental disability and seen as a disease. Now I’m talking specifically about autism in this blog, but this also applies to personality and other disorders or other intellectual disabilities. Autism is a disability, only the image is overdone and they see someone who can’t function. The stereotype image. This brings me to the following two terms that I want to discuss:

HFA and LFA: also known as High Functioning Autism and Low Functioning Autism. As of today, we will ban these terms from our dictionaries! They don’t help anyone with ASD and are microaggressions.

Calling an autist high functioning is rather a reminder for them that they’re masking. As I said earlier, this is the most exhausting thing to do. When you use this term, it indicates that the other person's autism does not affect or harm you as a ‘normal’ person. You aren’t hurt by it, but the autist is. Autism is already difficult, masking is even more difficult. The person with ASD violates themselves by conforming to the norm to appear as ‘normal’ as possible and not bother others. It’s stressful to hear that their autism isn’t visible and being labelled as high functioning. It means they aren’t being their true selves.

When you label an autist as low functioning you reject their strengths and talents if they don’t fit in the picture of ‘normal’. You consciously or unconsciously as a 'normal' person point out to the person with ASD that they must mask themselves. This is not okay. What should be okay is that an autistic person can be themselves without pretending to be someone else to fit in while they burn out from the energy it takes.

Too often I see how autism is linked to being stupid, “Wow I’m being so autistic!” Autism. And. Stupidity. Are. No. Linked. Synonyms! Autism is not synonymous with stupidity. Every person has their level of intelligence. ‘Normal’ or ‘not-normal’.

So let’s drop the terms HFA and LFA. These words are, in my opinion, made up from an ableist point of view. Ableism is a term used for the discrimination, marginalization and stigmatization of people with disabilities based on their physical and/or mental condition.

Most people don’t realize that you can’t ‘turn off’ disorders. For example, I’m always autistic. This is also the case for someone who has ADHD, borderline and so on. We can’t turn it off, we are born with it and will die with it. My ASD is a part of me, it’s not something I carry with me. That's why I call myself an autist, not someone with autism. That would mean I can turn it off. Though there are people who prefer to be seen as a person with autism. That’s called ‘people first pronouns’, this means that you address the person by first seeing them as a human being before you see their disability and/or disorder. For example, “The person with anxiety” instead of “The anxious person”.

Back to ableism, this is a privilege in itself that not everyone is always aware of. So they’re also not aware of their microaggressions. A few examples: “You just function differently.” “Being disabled is not a handicap, it is just another skill.” “You don't even seem autistic, it's hardly noticeable.” “I have to take your autism into account, which is very tiring for me too.” “Can you not be depressed?” your responses may come from good intentions but aren’t always appreciated. As an abled person, remember that being disabled is okay too.

 My autism Now that we've talked about all kinds of things on ASD... You're probably curious what my autism looks like.

When I was 8 years old I was diagnosed with PDD-NOS. PDD-NOS stands for Pervasive Developmental Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, nowadays this diagnosis is no longer given and has no longer appeared in the DSM since 2013. The word "pervasive" means that it affects overall development. This may involve social skills, relationships or mobility skills, but also feelings, fantasy and understanding of the surrounding world.

I only heard from my parents at the age of 13-14 that I have autism and this was confirmed again at the age of 15. This is very early for a girl compared to a boy who can be diagnosed with ASD at the age of 2 at the earliest.

Due to our family situation, which I won’t go into too much detail about at the moment, nothing had changed after the diagnosis. We were in this survival mode as a family for a long time, so we were didn’t really wonder about “What does autism mean?” “What does this look like?” “What does Nihâl need?”. I am grateful that my parents never saw me as a burden or pathetic, although I feel very guilty towards my parents that this is who I am. It saddens me that I can't change or turn it off, and it sometimes frustrates me that I'm not ‘normal’.

Since last year I’m getting help and support for my autism, amongst other things. The focus is on structure, overview and self-knowledge. This requires a lot of (self) discovery, connection and reflection from me and my environment. This is what I have discovered so far about myself as an autist: - Energy. Almost everything costs energy which makes me always tired. Even fun things take a lot of energy. For example, a whole day out with my friends is a lot, I need at least two days to recover from it afterwards. - Going beyond my boundaries. I’ve started thinking this is normal at some point because I copied someone's behaviour. Sometimes I plan a full day and in the evening I can't do anything anymore yet I keep going. When I exceed my limits I can't sleep at night because processing the overstimulation takes a lot of time. - Slow-witted. I’m always in my head so answering something or understanding it takes time and effort. Sometimes I don't quite understand what others mean. So it takes a while to realize that something was meant as a joke. - Adjusting. When I meet new people, I often tell them that I need time to adjust to their humour or sarcasm. I mask to fit in. - (Unexpected) changes. I sometimes have a hard time dealing with this, in the past, I used to get very angry when something changed. Now I can adapt faster, I’m not sure yet if this is me or if it’s a copied behaviour. - (Unexpected) touches. I really can't stand it if someone touches me out of the blue. Few people are allowed to do this. - Due to my high sensitivity, I’m very empathic. I understand what someone thinks and feels, which makes me come across as very socially communicative. - Communication. It's not that I always have eye contact, because sometimes I look down or past someone but I am focused on facial expressions. For example, when someone frowns, my heart jumps and I’m concerned that I said something wrong. - Imagination. I have difficulty with it but it’s somewhat present. - I find regularity quite boring. However, I really need to set eating, sleeping and waking moments. I’m still figuring out what works best for me. - Switching takes a lot of energy and effort. I can handle 1 question at a time, sometimes when 3 people ask me something at the same moment I lightly panic and can come across as irritated when I ask them to speak one by one. This isn’t because I’m uninterested, this is because I need my energy and attention and I want to give the other person just that when they’re talking to me. - I have difficulty prioritising thing and most times need help from someone else. An overview is very important to me, so I colour mark my schedules. But it’s still difficult to keep one. - My eye for detail is super sharp. I notice things quickly and I stay objective in perception. Unless I’m emotional, then it’s quite difficult. - My sense of righteousness is very strong. I’m trusted quickly by peers, I’m tough and honest if necessary and a diligent worker (doesn't this sound like perfect resume material?) - I don't like small talk. I like in-depth conversations. It’s frustrating when people try beating about the bush and that’s probably because I need clarity a lot. - Sometimes I can be too enthusiastic and talk a lot… to you, not with you. My mom often says this and I feel guilty and ashamed about it because maybe I take up too much space. - I experience heavy sensory stimulus concerning sound and vision. Filtering this out is super difficult for me. For example bright light, a lot of noise or seeing a cluttered desk. That's why I'm a big fan of minimalism! I can hear what happens downstairs when I’m in my bedroom or my mother chewing in the dining room while I’m in the living room. - I don't have a sense of time when I’m super focused on something. When my mother calls to me, only then I realize how long I’ve been working on something. - I'm somewhat prone to gaslighting. - Concentration. Normally I concentrate for a maximum of 1 hour, when I’m overstrung I can concentrate for 30 minutes max or not at all. I often fiddle with paper or draw something. Not because I’m uninterested, but to keep focus. When I really lose my concentration, my eyes become small and dull, I react more slowly or I’m completely silent. - I’m very diligent, be it in eating, cooking, talking to the other person or my environment. Everything has to follow a certain order or structure. For example, I have my routines that even when I oversleep, I still do my morning routine anyway. - When I’m overstrung it’s like I’m stuck. I’m not flexible, easily irritated, I don’t like any jokes, I’m cynical and sometimes I have random outbursts of crying.

This is quite a list. And it will get longer within time. Stimuli are the greatest enemy for someone with ASD. I try to filter them out as much as possible by listening to music, writing, dressing in something comfy, retreating to my bedroom or going out into nature.

 Conclusion I have shared a lot with you and I hope the information provides insight. I’d like to add this last thing: Let go of your stereotypical, ableist image about autists and autism. An autist burns themselves out adjusting and compensating to make it easy for you. So what can you do for your family, loved ones, friends or colleague with ASD? How can you adapt to them?

When you keep telling someone with autism (or any other disorder) that they’re not doing something good enough, you only reinforce their sense of incompetence. It’s important to know and let an autist know that they’re not ‘guilty’ of their inability and that they don’t have to do their best all the time. It’s also important to look at what autists are good at. This is really important to restore self-esteem, to feel appreciation for themselves, but also by the people around them.

After seeing Paige's videos, I thought more about how I burn myself out, mask others in behaviour and which is also why I saw myself as an abled person for a long time. I feel deeply grateful to have the privilege of being able to put this all into words and I hope that other people with autism who are reading this will find acceptance and identification.

I would also like to invite you to watch this video of Jac den Houting's TED talk about autism https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A1AUdaH-EPM&app=desktop

Writing this blog took a lot of sweat, tears and time to write. I’d like to thank my best friend Kevin for proof reading and YOU (the reader lol) as well!

 Peace and blessings!

Nihâl Esma Altmış

Ik draag mijn hijab niet meer

Twee weken geleden postte ik mijn éérste blog van het jaar. Omdat ik het over iets belangrijks heb, wil ik het ook delen met mijn Nederlandse volgers. Ik vind het fijn om op sommige dingen terug te kijken, waaronder mijn allereerste blogpost hier. Zo was 8 december 2015 was mijn eerste dag zonder hijab. Ik kan nog steeds de stress en angst van die dag voelen. Daarna heb ik er nooit meer over gesproken omdat ik me nog steeds schuldig en beschaamd voelde. Het is vier jaar geleden en ik heb het gevoel dat ik veel beter over dit hoofdstuk in mijn leven kan praten.

 Dus we gaan terug, voorbij die 4 jaar!

Mijn moeder is Nederlands en mijn vader is Turks, mijn moeder is 24 jaar geleden bekeerd tot de islam. Toen mijn ouders mijn broers en ik hadden, voelde baba (vader) een sterker verlangen om de islam beter te praktiseren en ons op te voeden met onze Turkse identiteit. Baba zijn ervaringen in hoe de Nederlandse samenleving immigranten dwingt om te assimileren in plaats van te integreren gaf hem veel zorgen en stress. De angst dat wij, zijn kinderen, onze Turkse identiteit zouden verliezen.

Een interraciale relatie vraagt ​​om meer verschillende verantwoordelijkheden denk ik. Mijn moeder en baba integreerden in elkaars cultuur, leerden elkaars taal terwijl ze hard werkten en voedde ons op met het beste van beide werelden.

Naarmate we ouder werden, hebben onze ouders ons ingeschreven op een islamitische basisschool. Met een schoolbus zouden we in de vroege ochtend van Valkenswaard naar Eindhoven gaan. Er waren zowel Moslim als niet-Moslim medewerkers. Mijn persoonlijke ervaring was niet positief, ik had toen al te maken met mijn depressie, angst en trauma. Ik herinner me weinig van wat ik heb geleerd, omdat ik vaak dissocieerde. Ik had moeite met leren want helaas werd ons de islam geleerd vanuit een cultureel perspectief en angst opwekkend. Voor mij leek Allah een grote boze man en ik weigerde dat te geloven.

Ik herinner me dat alle vrouwelijke leraren een hijab droegen. Moslim of niet. De meisjes droegen een hijab. Na school deden ze het af, anderen niet. Ik herinner me een keer na de gymles dat ik mijn hijab niet terug op deed. Een van de mannelijke leraren die ons onderweg terug naar de klas zag lopen beschaamde mij hierover. Als ik er naar terug kijk was het echt een nare ervaring. Hoe de meisjes in mijn klas die het eerst niet eens op was gevallen of er misschien niks over dachten, luid naar elkaar begonnen te fluisteren nadat de leraar er iets van zei ‘haram’ ‘ze heeft haar hijab niet meer op!’.

Er was een soort onuitgesproken regel dat een meisje haar hijab 'fulltime' zou moeten dragen wanneer ze 12 is. Onderling vroegen we aan elkaar: 'Wanneer ga jij je hijab dragen?' 'Als je ‘m nu niet begint te dragen, ga je dat nooit doen!!' Als je op je 16de of 18de je hijab gaat dragen ben je echt te laat, je moet minstens 12 zijn! 'Alhamdulillah (godzijdank) kan ik zeggen dat mijn ouders me nooit hebben gedwongen.

Ik wisselde op 8 jarige leeftijd van school. Ook al was het geen Islamitische basisschool, uit gewoonte bleef ik mijn hijab naar school dragen. Toen ik 10, 11 of 12 jaar oud werd, begon ik mijn hijab te dragen. Ik ging naar de middelbare school, een overheersend witte school wat ik totaal niet gewend was. Van de misschien 200 studenten, waren er 5 studenten van kleur, 4 van hen Moslim en ik was de enige die een hijab droeg. Ik werd al geconfronteerd met veel discriminatie en Islamofobie, maar vanaf dat moment werd het alleen maar erger. De meerderheid van de witte mensen ondervroegen mij over elk klein dingetje, mijn hijab, de Islam, of ik sympathiseer met terroristen, of mijn vader hier kwam voor het geld en of ik onderdrukt word. ‘Wanneer kwam je erachter dat je hoofddoekje wilde dragen?’ ‘Voelde je je er klaar voor?’ ‘Je bent moslim, toch? Wat vind je van ISIS?’ Hoe ouder ik werd, hoe groter mijn hoop werd dat de vragen op zouden houden. Maar het hield niet op. Ik was destijds iemand met heel weinig kennis, maar door mijn hijab dachten mensen het tegenovergestelde. Alsof ik een levend, lopend menselijk museum of een encyclopedie was.

Ik begon aan mezelf te twijfelen. Voelde ik me er klaar voor? Begreep ik wel wat het dragen van de hijab in houd? Kon ik mezelf aan Allah rechtvaardigen voor het dragen van mijn hijab hoewel de intentie om het te dragen er niet was?

Het deed mijn hart zoveel pijn doen omdat ik de realiteit onder ogen moest zien. Ik had geen antwoord. In het begin probeerde ik meer over de Islam te lezen en te onderzoeken, maar ik was daar toen nog niet bereid voor. Dus probeerde ik door te gaan met mijn leven ondanks dat ik me ongelukkig, schuldig en verward voelde. Toen ik 18 jaar was besloot ik er met mijn moeder over te praten. Ze zei dat ze haar altijd zorgen had gemaakt dat ik de beslissing om mijn hijab te dragen nooit bewust had genomen omdat ik zo jong was. Samen met mijn moeder begon ik te brainstormen over ideeën en opties. Zoals proberen mijn hijab in verschillende stijlen te dragen om te kijken of het een verschil maakt en te praten met aantaal vrouwen die hun hijab hadden afgedaan. Toen ik naar hun verhalen luisterde, voelde ik me bang. Het was alsof ik op een kruising stond en totaal geen idee had welke richting ik moest gaan bewandelen.

Toen ik eenmaal besloot dat ik mijn hijab niet meer zou dragen, sprak ik met mijn baba. Hij was erg in de war en overstuur. Altijd heeft baba geprobeerd ons te beschermen tegen de Westerse wereld, en hij was bang dat dat mijn keuze had beïnvloed. Hoewel baba het niet eens was met mijn beslissing, benadrukte hij dat hij er altijd voor me zal zijn en van me zal houden. Dat was het enige wat ik hoefde te horen want ik wist dat baba zijn tijd nodig had om aan dingen te wennen.

Soms denk ik nog steeds dat ik aan anderen moet uitleggen dat ik vroeger een hijab droeg. Specifiek aan zusters die het dragen, omdat ik maar al te goed begrijp hoe het is om een ​​zichtbaar doelwit te zijn van Islamofobisch geweld. Soms voel ik me zo een vreemd eendje wanneer ik met moslimvrouwen ben (vooral met degenen die de hijab dragen) want mijn leven ziet er nu totaal anders uit dan eerst.

 Over die verandering in mijn dagelijks leven gesproken.. In het begin merkte ik hoe Moslims en niet-Moslims me nu anders behandelden. Wanneer ik een zuster begroette met ‘Assalaam aleikum’, (vrede zij met jou), keek ze afkeurend op en neer naar mij en gaf ze de groet niet terug. Het voelde zo vreselijk dat ik niemand meer begroette. Dit deed ik om mezelf meer veiligheid te bieden, omdat ik me toen zo kwetsbaar voelde. In plaats daarvan begonnen niet-Moslims (voornamelijk witte mensen) mij heel vrolijk te begroeten. Ik was verbijsterd.

Alsof het een soort spel was, hield ik al deze verschillen bij.

Van hoe mensen voorheen niet naast mij in het openbaar vervoer zaten zelfs wanneer het druk was, naar voorbijgangers die 'Allahu akbar' of 'terrorist' hardop onder hun adem fluisterden wanneer ze langs me liepen tot veel sneller gecontroleerd of beschuldigd worden door de beveiliging voor iets wat ik niet gedaan had en altijd geweigerd worden wanneer ik solliciteer (in Eindhoven is discriminatie op de arbeidsmarkt erg hoog) enzovoorts.

Wanneer ik mijn ID moet laten zien, waar een foto van mij op staat met mijn hijab op, vinden mensen het altijd nodig om te zeggen dat ze mij veel mooie vinden zonder hijab. Als ik dat hoor krijg ik, wat Iraanse kunstenaar Saman Amini in het stuk ‘A Seat at The Table’ noemt, een ‘racial freeze’. Ik incasseer de reactie, reageer met een neppe glimlach en ga weer verder met mijn dag. Mezelf niet toestaan om de pijn en frustratie te voelen.

Het was de eerste twee jaar een echte struggle geweest. Ik moest wennen aan hoe de maatschappij me behandelde. Niemand ziet mijn hijab, maar soms heb ik nog steeds het gevoel dat ik ‘m draag. Veel van mijn levenservaringen voordat ik ‘m afdeed waren gebaseerd rondom mijn hijab. En terwijl ik dit aan het schrijven ben, doet die realisatie mij pijn. Toen ik op jonge leeftijd de hijab droeg werd ik beroofd van mijn jeugd en dat klinkt misschien dramatisch, maar het is de realiteit. Het had invloed op mijn kwaliteit van leven omdat ik een gemakkelijk doelwit was van zowel verbaal als non-verbaal Islamofobisch geweld.

Ik heb van heel dichtbij gezien hoe het is om zowel met als zonder hijab te worden behandeld door niet-Moslims en Moslims. Of ik dan nu een slechte Moslim ben of een goed ‘geïntegreerde’ (lees geassimileerde) immigrant.

Nog steeds leren we meisjes andere meisjes te beoordelen. In mijn tijd beoordeelden we degenen die ervoor kozen hun hijab (nog) niet te dragen of die hun hijab op de 'verkeerde' manier droegen. Naarmate ik ouder werd, begon ik me te realiseren hoe ongezond dit gedrag eigenlijk is. Bij mezelf merk ik hoe die manier van denken nog steeds diep geworteld in mij zit. Want zo nu en dan heb ik nog steeds momenten dat wanneer ik een zuster met hijab zie waarvan een deel van haar haren zichtbaar zijn, mijn eerste gedachte als volgt gaat: ‘Oh mijn God, ze laat haar haren zien!! AYIB!!’ gelukkig doe ik dit veel minder. Maar wanneer ik mezelf er toch nog op betrap geef ik mezelf mentaal een tik en herhaal ik in mijn hoofd dat dit een ongezonde manier van denken is omdat het niet bijdraagt ​​aan iets positiefs. De oordelen die naar mezelf en anderen had is enorm verminderd. Ik ben een sterker persoon geworden en heb zo veel mogen leren (en ik leer nog steeds!!) Alle dingen die ik hier benoem en meer, moest ik zelf ervaren. Voorheen was ik zo met mezelf bezig. Proberen te overleven. Nu kan ik in mijn hart meer ruimte maken voor anderen om te genezen.

Ik kijk vaak terug naar de afgelopen vier jaar. Ik voel me dankbaar en verbaasd. Nooit eerder had ik zo'n hechte relatie met Allah en mijzelf. Eerlijk gezegd schaam ik me wanneer ik het volgende zeg. Dus moge Allah mij vergeven voor mijn onwetendheid en verkeerde daden, moge Hij mijn goede daden, gebeden en inspanningen om te leren accepteren...

Ik heb nooit gebeden, soms tijdens de ramadan. Zoals ik eerder al zei, ik vergat wat ik als kind leerde vanwege dissociatie. Wanneer iemand me over de Islam probeerde te onderwijzen, had ik geen ruimte om te luisteren en die informatie op te slaan. Alhamdulillah met ups en downs, heb ik de afgelopen vier jaar de kennis die ik nu leer op kunnen slaan. Ik bid 5 keer per dag, lees vertalingen van de Koran, ga naar lezingen met een open hart en geest. Net als een spons probeer ik alle informatie die ik kan krijgen tot me te nemen.

Ik zeg dit niet om op te scheppen. Maar om nogmaals te benadrukken, dat ik door deze dingen moest gaan om er doorheen te groeien. Ik moest dit allemaal ervaren om de persoon te worden die ik vandaag ben. Een betere versie van mezelf. Omdat ik met deze ervaring en kennis nog sterker in mijn schoenen kan staan.

 Tot slot wil ik benadrukken dat mijn ervaringen die ik hierboven heb gedeeld, vooral de negatieve, niets met de Islam te maken hebben. Het is de ‘man-made’ cultuur. Zie religie alsjeblieft los van haar mensen.

Helaas is er nog steeds te weinig besef hoe kinderen onze woorden en (sexistisch) gedrag nabootsen. Vrijwel alles wat ik in mijn verhaal heb genoemd, heb ik geleerd van tantes, ooms en de meisjes om me heen. Vooral voor ons vrouwen hoop ik dus dat we elkaar echt kunnen gaan inspireren, elkaar niet langer afkraken en laten ophitsen.

 Heel erg bedankt dat je de tijd hebt genomen om dit te lezen. Zorg voor jezelf, ik wens je veel vrede en zegeningen toe!

Veel liefs,

Nihâl

Not wearing my hijab anymore

We’ve entered a new decade, it’s 2020. To be honest I’m not a big fan of New Year’s Eve and the hype around it, which is why I waited with a new blogpost. I think it’s nice to look back on some things, one of them being my very first blogpost on here. (link) December 8, 2015 was my very first day without hijab. I can still feel the stress and anxiety of that day. After that, I never talked about it anymore because I still felt guilt and shame. It’s been four years and I feel like I’m able to talk about this past chapter in my life much better.

So we’re going waaaaay back, beyond those 4 years!

My mother is Dutch and my father is Turkish, my mother converted to Islam 24 years ago. When my parents had my brothers and I, baba (father) felt a stronger sense of practicing Islam better as well as raising us with our Turkish identity. Seeing as how Dutch society forces immigrants to assimilate rather than to integrate. The thought and fear of us losing our Turkish identity really stressed him out. 

Being in an interracial relationship asks for more different responsibilities I think. My mother and baba were integrating in each other’s culture, learning one another’s language while working hard and raising us with best of both worlds. 

As we got older our parents signed us up to an Islamic elementary school. With a school bus we’d go in the early morning from Valkenswaard to Eindhoven. There were both Muslim and non-Muslim faculty. My personal experience wasn’t great, I was already dealing with depression, anxiety, and trauma. I don’t remember a lot from what I learned because I dissociated quite often. It was difficult for me to learn because unfortunately we were taught Islam from a cultural perspective and fear inducing. To me Allah seemed like a big angry man and I refused to believe that.

I remember that all female teachers wore a hijab. Muslim or not. The girls also wore a hijab starting very young. After school they would take it off, others didn’t. I remember one time after gym class that I didn’t put my hijab back on. One of the male teachers who saw us on our way back to class shamed me for it. Looking back it was so awful how at first the girls didn’t even bother or noticed. But once the teacher said something about it they started whispering loudly to each other ‘haram’ ‘she didn’t put her hijab back on!’.

There was this unspoken rule that a girl should wear her hijab ‘full time’ when she’s 12. We’d ask each other, ‘When will you wear your hijab?’ ‘If you don’t start wearing it now you never will!!’ ‘Wearing your hijab at 16 or 18 is too late, you should wear it when you’re at least 12!’ Alhamdulillah (thank God) I can say that my parents never forced me.

I switched schools when I was 8, it wasn’t an Islamic school but I still kept wearing my hijab to school as force of habit.  Once I turned either 10, 11 or 12 years old I started wearing my hijab. After age of 12 I had to switch schools again, this time a dominantly white school. From the maybe 200 students, there were 5 students of colour, 4 of them Muslim and I being the only one wearing a hijab. I was facing a lot of discrimination and Islamophobia already and it only got worse from then on. The majority of white people questioned me about every single little thing, my hijab, Islam, if I sympathize with terrorists, if my father came here for money and if I was oppressed. ‘When did you start to realize you wanted to wear your hijab?’ ‘Did you feel ready?’ ‘So you’re Muslim, right? What do you think of ISIS?’ The older I got, I hoped that the questions would stop but they never did. I had very little knowledge, yet people thought I did because of my hijab. Like I was a living, walking human museum or encyclopedia.  

I started to question myself. Did I feel ready? Do I understand what wearing the hijab means? Can I justify myself to Allah for wearing my hijab though the intention of wearing it is non-existent?

It made my heart hurt so much because I had to face reality. I didn’t have an answer. At first I tried reading and researching more about Islam, but back then there was very little willingness of me to do so. I tried to move on despite feeling unhappy, guilty and confused. When I was 18 I decided to talk to my mother about it. She said she had always been worried that I never made my decision to wear my hijab consciously because I was so young. Together with my mother I began brainstorming for ideas and options. Such as trying to wear my hijab in different styles to see it makes any difference and talking with a few women who had taken their hijab off. When I listened to their stories I felt scared. Clueless of what I should do, standing at a cross roads having no idea which path to take.

Once I decided that I wanted to stop wearing my hijab, I talked with my baba. He was very confused and upset. He always tried to protect us from the Western world, so he was worried that it influenced my choice. I told him it didn’t. Although he didn’t agree with my decision he emphasized that he will always be there for me and love me. That’s all I needed to hear. I knew that baba needed his time to get used to things.

Sometimes I still think that I have to explain to others that I used to wear a hijab. Specifically to sisters who wear it. Because I understand all too well what it’s like to be a visible target of Islamophobic violence. There has become such a huge shift in my daily life that sometimes I feel like the odd one out when I’m with Muslim women (who wear the hijab).

Talking about a huge shift in my daily life. In the beginning especially, I noticed how Muslims and non-Muslims were now treating me differently. Whenever I’d greet a sister ‘Assalaam aleikum’, (peace be upon you) she’d look me up and down disapprovingly and wouldn’t return my greeting. It felt awful, I stopped greeting anyone all at once to give myself some sense of security because I was feeling so vulnerable back then. Instead, non-Muslim (majority white) people started to happily greet me. It was mind boggling. 

Like it was some sort of game, I’d keep track of all these differences. How in the past people wouldn’t sit next to me in public transport even when it was busy, to by passers saying ‘Allahu akbar’ or ‘terrorist’ under their breath when walking past me, getting checked by security a lot faster or accused of stealing, always being refused when applying for a job (in my city, Eindhoven, discrimination on the job market is very high) etc. 

When I have to show my ID, that has a picture of me with my hijab on, people always feel the need to tell me ‘You look prettier without hijab!’. When that happens I get a, what Dutch Iranian artist Saman Amini calls in the play ‘A Seat at The Table’, racial freeze. Cashing in the comment, reacting with a fake smile and getting back to my day. Not allowing myself to feel the hurt or the frustration.

It has definitely been a struggle the first year or two. I had to adjust to how society was treating me, nobody sees my hijab but sometimes I still feel like I wear it. A lot of my life experiences before taking it off were based around my hijab. And as I’m writing, realising it now, hurts. Wearing the hijab since a young age, I was basically robbed of my childhood and sure that may sound dramatic but it’s reality. It impacted my quality of life because I was an easy target for Islamophobic violence both verbal and non-verbal.

I got to see first-hand what it’s like to be treated both with and without hijab by non-Muslim and Muslims. Whether I’m a bad Muslim or a well ‘integrated’ (read assimilated) immigrant. 

We still teach girls to judge other girls. In my time we’d judge those who chose not to wear their hijab (yet) or who wore their hijab the ‘wrong’ way. As I got older I started to realise how toxic this behaviour is. But I find that this way of thinking is still deeply rooted. Because I still have some moments that when I see a sister with a hijab showing hair, my first thought is ‘Oh My GoD sHe Is ShOwInG hEr HaIr!! AYIB!!’ it’s been happening a lot less. But when it does I mentally slap myself in the face and remind myself of how toxic that way of thinking is because it does not contribute to anything positive. The judgement I had towards myself and others has lessened immensely. I’ve become a stronger person and learned so much (I’m still learning!!). All the things I named and more, I had to experience. Before I was so caught up with myself. Trying to survive. Now I able to make room in my heart for others to heal.

I look back to these past four years a lot. Feeling thankful and amazed. Never before did I have such a close relationship with Allah and myself. Honestly, I feel ashamed when I say the following. So may Allah forgive me for my ignorance and wrong doings, may He accept my good deeds, prayers and efforts of learning…

I never prayed, sometimes during Ramadan. Like I said, I forgot what I learned as a kid because of dissociating. When someone tried to teach me about Islam I didn’t have the space to listen, my mind never saved the information. Alhamdulillah, with its ups and downs, the past four years I have now been saving the knowledge I learn about Islam. I’m praying 5 times a day, reading translations of the Quran, going to lectures with an open heart and mind. Soaking up all the information I can get my hands on, eager to learn.

I’m not saying this to brag. But to stress that once again, I had to go through these things to grow through them. I had to experience all of this in order to become the person I am today. A better version of myself. Because with this experience and knowledge I am able to stand even stronger on my feet.

Lastly, I want to emphasize that my experiences I shared above, especially the negative ones have nothing to do with Islam. It’s man-made culture. Please see religion separate from its people.

Also there is unfortunately still way too little awareness of how children mimic our words and (misogynistic) behaviour. Pretty much everything I named in my story I learned from aunties, uncles and the girls around me. So especially to us women, I hope that we can start to truly uplift each other and not tear each other down any longer.

Thank you so much for taking your time to read this. A Dutch version of this blog post will soon follow.

Take care, peace and blessings upon you all! Much love,

Nihâl

Fat and body shaming

As long as I remember I’ve been body and fat shamed. I was too tall, I am too fat, my hair is not long so I’m not beautiful, I have too much acne, my feet are weird and wide, I’m ugly, I should dress and act like a lady, I’m unattractive, I should starve myself, if I lost some weight I’d have a killer hourglass figure which would make men swoon for me and so on. For years I’ve repeated those words in my head, making them my own. As I got older I worked hard to unlearn those words and send myself love. But today is the last straw and I’m breaking.

I hate how others’ their negative imagine of me get me in ruins so easily. Years of hard work, years of selflove, years of building confidence just fly out of the window and stab me in my heart. It awes me how a simple action or word that once again shames me for who I am shatters all that progress. Like my throat is being squeezed shut, I am not allowed to speak and should accept others’ their perception of me. Because if it were up to them, I should change for them and break myself into a beauty standard that I don’t even want to uphold.

I have always been a firm believer that beauty in the heart will shine on ones’ face like a halo. That once you accept and embrace who you are now, you can then evolve into what you want to be. For years I’ve worked on that process. I’ve come to love my body, embrace all the rolls of fat, cellulite, acne, scars, stretchmarks and so on that I was able to make the step towards training my physique. Like I said in earlier posts, as a kid I always said that I want to be the strongest girl in the world. I wanted to have this amazing muscle mass, an athletic body. But the words of others, their eyes on everything I did made me feel so insecure and I wasn’t able to shake it off.

You see videos these days of amazing kids who don’t even give a fuck about others’ opinions of them, they keep doing what they want to do and are fabulous at it. I admire that, and I also missed that as a kid. Making me miss it still, even now.

As I’m writing this, I know it may not make much sense to you who are reading this. Or it does and you resonate with it.

I just want to say, before my eyes are blinded with tears, that I am more than my body. I am more than the acne on my skin. I am more than the fat surrounding every curve of my body. I am more than the short hair on my head. I am more than my big, wide feet.

I now know that my fat has been my protection, a sense of security I could give myself through the hard years I’ve faced. It made me invisible to others.

The hair growing on my head is for me to decide to cut off or grow out. It is my decision whether I like it straight, curly, short or long.

My feet have carried me, supported my body and soul through my most challenging days and difficult times. They kept me standing and grounded.

I don’t need to fit in your stupid beauty ideal. I’ll make out for myself how long I want my hair to be, how much fat I want on my body or how much muscle. Don’t you dare think that just because I’m fat, I only eat fried food all day or meat. I don’t need to justify any of my actions or life style to you, you wouldn’t ask this to a person skinnier than me either.

Yes, I’m angry. I’m raging, I’m upset, I feel desperate to make you understand.

Give me a chance, not out of pity but out of love for the people who live on this planet like you.

Phew.

Thanks for reading my emotional outburst. Until a next post!

There are some people in my life I love so much. I might not speak to them a lot nor see them much. We might not know each other that well. Yet there they are. In all their authentic beauty and light. It swells my heart with so much love. As if it’ll burst my chest open.

N.E.A

First female, Muslim and youngest prime minister of The Netherlands

Do you have wild goals? And with wild I mean the kind that makes your stomach do flips, increase your heart rate, give you sweaty palms and look at the ground because it causes somewhat anxiety yet there is a feeling of confidence? Same. And today, I want to share a particular goal with you.

I’m going to take you back to July 1st. As I was talking with a coach of mine about pretty much anything, like we usually do. He gives me a lot of insights and inspiration. Things that keep me thinking throughout the rest of the week. So. He and I were talking and at some point he said “Nihâl, close your eyes. And imagine yourself, let’s say 10 to 20 years later. Everything is possible. Whatever you want. What would you be doing?” I smiled because I knew immediately what it is I’d be doing. In fact it has been on my mind for a few months now, but I never told anyone. Jonathan would be the first person I’d tell about it, and it felt pretty much nerve-wracking to do so. I chuckled nervously, feeling my heart beat fast, stomach in knots as I said “Man. I know what it is. But I haven’t told anyone yet. So I feel anxious to even say it out loud!” Jonathan laughed and said to take my time.

Going back and forth to opening my mouth and closing it, laughing awkwardly all the while I sat up straight, opened my eyes and said “You know, what? Screw it. I’ll tell you what it is! Within 10 years, or maybe 20, I’d be the prime minister of The Netherlands.”

Jonathan looked at me smiled widely. While I let out a deep breath I didn’t know I was holding in. “Wow. I can totally see you do this, you know? In fact, you’d have my vote!” I felt this heaviness fall off my shoulders once I heard his supportive words. We kept talking about it some more until we got kicked out of the meeting room we were in because someone had reserved it.

I went home, letting it sink in what had happened and I smiled to myself. During and after July 1st, I shared this with 5 more people. And today I want to share this with you.

Yesterday I went to ‘Binnenhof’ with my mother which houses our Dutch politics. The prime minister their office resides at ‘Binnenhof’ which is called ‘Torentje’ which I think is a very cute name. Anyways, you can guess. I went to get inspired as well as to take some pictures to keep myself focused and remind myself where this all was starting as I’ll look back to this process.

There were a few times yesterday that I’d laugh at myself. Anyone who knows me well will tell you that I used to have 0 interest nor knowledge of politics. It just never had been my kind of thing or something I liked to talk about. But as years pass by and seeing how our country is doing, the activism I’ve been doing the past months. I have changed my point of view.

So here I am now, saying I’ll be the next prime minister. In fact. I will be sure to claim the historical title of the first female, Muslim and youngest prime minister of the Netherlands it ever had.

See, I believe that voicing out dreams or goals will bring you closer to turning them into reality. And Lord, I knew that when I’d tell Jonathan that it’ll mean exactly that. Though I feel that anxiety in the back of my head still, in my heart I feel so strongly that I am capable of this.

Yes. I have a lot to learn, I need to go through things to grow through them, there is so much I need to experience and I’ll probably fall on my face multiple times. And that’s life, that’s growth. There will be people who won’t support me or believe in me, there will be people who’ll try to break me or stab me in the back. But in this case. I don’t worry about it too much. Because I know that God has written this for me. He has written for me to become a leader, and I feel it’s time to grab onto that chance that is slowly coming my way.

There is a lot of excitement I am feeling as well as this energy surging through me just thinking about it. I’m curious about where this path will take me!

I desperately want to live, really. I want to see the world, discover new things, meet new people, explore the mountains and cross seas. I want to live in the ups and downs of life so that I will learn how to stand rooted like a tree. I want to live so that I can inspire the people around me and give all the love I have to whoever crosses paths with me.

N.E.A

Not ready enough

Do you often have that sense of insecurity and anxiety? This voice inside your head, telling you “I am not ready enough, I’m not good enough. Once I am, then I’ll do… (whatever it is you want to do)” Yeah. Me too. I talked about this last time when closing off my blog post.

You have to start now, learn from your mistakes rather than waiting to be perfect because we are not put in this world to be perfect and time runs out.

I’ve been struggling with this the past few weeks. My head telling me I am not ready enough, while my heart is so ready and wants to get going into action.

Which is also why I haven’t written anything the past few weeks. It’s like I am standing at a cross road, struggling to start with what I want. Which path to take? Ready on the starting blocks, but frozen still in time after the whistle is blown.

It’s quite confusing. But I don’t mind it too much. I mean, hello? It’s summer! Everyone has more days off than usual, we can enjoy ourselves with loved ones, do fun activities and be in the present!

Yet.. At the back of my head I still feel this nagging. Eating away my energy, because I still worry too much. “Where do I start? How do I start?” But. How about I just do it, instead of thinking about it?

Gosh, it can be frustrating when you are very aware of what’s living inside you but don’t know how to act on it. I know what my head is telling me, but I am not that strongly in touch with what my heart is telling me. It’s a big issue for people with autism, we are way too much in our heads rather than in our hearts.

It’s almost giving me a headache. So I’ll keep this short and weird.

You know? Since April I have been working continuously on a lot of things. Projects, assignments and events. Maybe not always with concrete steps. But I contributed to a lot of difference for myself and others around me.

I think I should just go on a two week break soon, change of pace and a different scenery to freshen up so that I can face everything head on after wards.

Evaluating

Years fly by. From the last time I wrote to now, a lot of things have happened. I talked about having taken off my hijab, going to a new school and working on my mental health.

This week I want to take you on a proces of self evaluation. How has life been the past three years? What has improved? What has not? What have I been doing? And so on.

Lets get to it!

I first want to talk about school. Because looking back, I am amazed with myself. Which I am not very often, hahaha.

Switching majors from art, design and craftsmanship to social work was a huge turn around. But not just that. I was going to do an accelerated study, which means you’ll cram 4 years of school into 1-1,5 year time. And I would study in Rotterdam, a 1.5-2 hour travel from Eindhoven. Before that I’d go to Boxtel, which was a 30 minute travel in total. I still remember the shock I experienced the first month. We’d go to school 1 day a week, e-learning (English, Dutch, calculations and sociology) 2-3 days a week. After 3 months we’d start doing exams for the e-learning subjects while also starting our internship 3-4 days a week. It was super stressful. There were so many times where I’d doubt myself, have tons of panic attacks, sleepless nights and mental breakdowns. But I never threw the towel in and said I’d quit. After about 9-10 months of school I impulsively started 2 more study courses, which were Gua Sha therapy and Hijama cupping therapy. I always found Traditional Chinese Medicine very fascinating, so on a whim I decided to do those studies in the weekend.

In 2017 I graduated as social worker and hijama cupping therapist.

After that I stayed at my internship, which happens to be the foundation my mother initiated in 2012, ‘Stichting Ik Wil’. There I got more opportunities to grow. Doing courses such as Non Violent Communication, Jump! Movement facilitator, workshop facilitator for self development and just so many more things.

I became a cooperative member of ‘Coöperatie Wij Doen U.A.’ where I got the opportunity to kick start my entrepreneurship.

In regards of work, I did various things. Mostly as an volunteer, actually.

I’d facilitate workshops for our female participants at the foundation in discovering their own talent and passion. Other than that I’d help giving shape to our working system. And lastly, most importantly, I’d organize events.  Why do I say this is important? Because it helped me grow so so much as a person! It made me discover my own talents some more and where my passion lies.

See, when I get to facilitate something that contributes to connection, enrichment and celebration of life. I shine. My heart opens and I enjoy myself so much at that moment! Not just that. Because these events their main goals are to connect various groups of people who’d normally wouldn’t meet so easily, I get to contribute to taking away a piece of ignorance and replace it with knowledge and a new, positive experience. 

My passion is bringing awareness, connection and making positive changes. Some people would say it makes my eyes shine.

And these past 3 years helped me in discovering that. 

My mental health has known many ups and downs. The times I’ve hit rock bottom only this past year, 2019, I lost count of. Alhamdulillah, praise to God, I’ve gotten back up every time.  And I think that’s something I forget to realize and give myself credit for. A lot. See, I always judge myself. Thinking that I do way too little, that I make no improvement, that I’m lazy and not a ‘go getter’.  But I do so many things! Often invisible, even to myself. But I do a lot. Really.

As a kid, I was a ‘go getter’. I would dive head first into things without even calculating the risks. I would literally fall face first on the ground, get back up, clean off the dust and continue walking with my head held high.

Sometimes I ask myself, where did she go?

I know full well she’s still there, if only I would connect better with my inner, younger self I might bring that piece back to myself.

The things I did 3-4 years ago helped me with that insight. I really look up to my younger self. The fearlessness, courage, realness and brightness.

But you know, life happens, growing pains happen. Allah, God, puts challenges and live lessons on our path to shape us into the person we become. Even the person I was 1 hour ago is not the same.

And now that I talk about God. 3 years ago, I decided to take off my hijab. And subhan Allah, God is perfect, my relationship with Him has become so much better. Which I did not expect, honestly. In the past there were moments where I seriously would think He did not exist. So many times. I felt so much pain and loneliness. But since these 3 years, my deen (my faith) is so much higher. Sure, I’m still ignorant on some parts of my religion. I have a lot to learn, trust me. But I’m on the good path! 

Does that mean I’ll wear my hijab again soon? I don’t know, one day? Honestly, I’ll leave that to the greatest of planners. But I know, that the day when I do, I’ll wear my hijab with pride and like a crown.

In my teenage years I think I was quite hypocrite. There is so much injustice in our world and I’d always look at other to speak up about it, never at myself. I wanted others to fight for me, but never did I think I could and should fight for myself. The past months I’ve started...let’s call it a career, in my activism. It’s a very new terrain for me, very unknown and I’m not at ease yet. But it’s necessary. And I think that throughout this process, I won’t just learn about activism, but also about history. 

When you want to stand up against injustice, against the system, against history repeating itself. You need to know your history. Does that mean you first need to know it and then become an activist? I don’t think so. Because then you’ll have to wait for years.

Start now, and learn throughout the ups and downs, your mistakes. And like my younger self, even if you fall on your face..get back up, pat yourself clean and continue walking with your head held high.

We learn from our mistakes, we are not put in this world to be perfect.

The last will also be a reminder to myself.

Peace and blessings upon you all, see you again!

Come back

Hey all! Peace and blessings upon you all~

It’s been 3 years since I last wrote something on this platform. So much has happened, obviously, and in the past year I have tried to bring life back onto this page because I have big plans. I know that ‘Nihâl’s Journey’ has huge potential for more, but being the perfectionist I am, it makes me insecure and scared to really put myself out there. It has to be perfect, however, we aren’t perfect. I’m very aware of that.  But yeah.

I’m trying! So please be patient with me, see you soon!

Written 16 May ‘16

It has been a while .. Life has been so busy I got caught up in so many things, school, exams, the flu. But things have been calming down a little so I will try my best to get back into blogging!

Today I am trying to relax while reliving the moments of this concert I went to yesterday. I got to see the group that has been keeping me alive with their music and made me stronger until this day, B.A.P!

Honestly, I’m not really that much into kpop anymore. It faded a little after I got older. Some people within the kpop movement kind of ruined it for me and I am quite specific with things I like and do not like. Actually, I listen to lots of different types of songs and languages.

Anyway, my friend and I went to Düsseldorf, Germany to see B.A.P perform.

The night before I got about two to three hours of sleep, but I was actually quite energetic throughout the day.

So in Düsseldorf they got this numbering system (I don’t know how other venues do that), once you get to the venue they give you a number. They would start the numbering at 6 AM but we found out they started the night before at 8 PM! So a lot of fans even left early. It was kind of disappointing that the organization kept changing their very own promises and rules. But oh well, we cannot undo what has been done ~

As we got our numbers we sat down and wanted to rest because we were pretty tired. Then a girl walked up to us talking in German, now my German is very terrible so I asked her to talk in English. She asked us about our numbers. Ours were a little farther behind than hers but since there was no check-up it didn’t really matter where you sat. She didn’t seem to agree and kept telling us to leave because we don’t belong here. At some point my friend and I fell asleep. But I was able to hear some of the things they were saying about us, talking as if we were some sort of disgusting things. “They don’t belong here.” “They should leave.” “Can you make them leave?” “Let’s wake them up German style so that they can leave!” It’s upsetting to know that some fans don’t treat one another kindly.

One of the numbering system staff members woke us up and explained that the check-up would start in a bit and that we had to go to the back and find our numbers. It was a little frustrating but once we got to the back we found two friends of the Seasonal Kpop Meeting (SKM) community in the Netherlands and it got a little more bearable to wait in line! After the check-up we ran into a girl from Austria, together we walked around close by the venue, our friends hired this apartment through Airbnb so we went there to hang out and catch up, get to know each other and waited until the next check-up. We ate a bit, listened to B.A.P’s music and one by one we prepared ourselves a little for the concert. Around 11.30 we got back to the venue and had the check-up. It started raining and thankfully we got to take shelter in our friends’ car. After it ended we went back in line and hung out together meeting about three more people from the SKM Community. We ran into 5 more girls from the Netherlands while we tried to understand some of the information that was given to us by the staff of Twisted Talent and the ladies from the numbering system. Almost all of the information was given in German but thankfully some of the fans explained to us in English about the given information!

Later throughout the day this group of 6 girls aged between 14-15 started talking to us, it was their very first (kpop) concert and they asked a lot of questions. They were very nice and sweet ~

Around 2 PM we had another check-up and we got wristbands to get access in the concert hall. After that we waited in line while eating some food with our two friends because the others whom we met got tickets for the General Admission while we had tickets for the Party Pit. The younger girls we met came to join us later on as well as we ate our food together and played some games. After that the staff members from the numbering system asked us to go a little to the back because the front part of the queue was packed up. Which was strange because everyone had to sit by their number. But apparently some with no numbers or with the numbers 500 went to the front of the line and refused to get a number or go to the back.

The staff asked everyone to help them out so that everyone gets a fair chance because some got at the venue at 5 AM and others at 12 PM.

We all got divided somehow though my friend and I stuck together. In front of us was a girl with no number so we told her she had to get a number from the staff and go to the back. She pointed the middle finger at us which pissed off my friend. We decided to look for our friends instead. I saw someone with the number 375 standing next to me, I have number 215. I explained to her that she needs to go to the back and find her fellow numbers. She refused because at the front they already sent her away while there were people with numbers 500 and 400 or no numbers at all. I kind of could understand her frustration so I didn’t argue with her.

My friend really got frustrated after that though and walked to the front. She talked with two girls from the Netherlands who understood her anger and told her that she and I could stand in line next to them. As I walked up to my friend I ran into the other girls, they asked me if they could wait in line together with us because there was a German girl behind them that kept cursing and yelling at them in German because they were about 2 numbers lower than her yet they were standing in front of her. They felt scared and bothered with the girl.

I didn’t like the sound of it and certainly not the energy and aura this girl was expressing. I pulled the girls along with me to the front.

The girl started to raised her voice and told us to turn around and listen to her. As I said, my German is terrible but I can understand a few things. She made racist comments about how this was not our country and that us Hollanders should go to the back where we belong. It was upsetting and at some point I got angry myself as well. But I know better and I know that if I were to say something it would only worsen the situation.

As soon as it was 6.30 PM the line started to move and we got in the concert hall. It was amazing and so beautiful. My friend and I ran up to the front with the girls, we were so close to the stage! Slowly the hall started to fill up.

About 8.15 PM the concert started and it was amazing, the boys were so close and they are so beautiful!

During the concert there was a lot of pushing and my friend who is pretty short started to feel unwell halfway the concert. She wasn’t given any space because some of the fans thought she was faking it to get to the front. Thankfully some gave her some space and water. She felt a lot better after that and I was glad. I felt like some sort of shepherd or mother trying to protect the girls, keeping them close and in front of me to make sure they were having a good time.

Usually I don’t like it that everyone takes photos and films during the concert, especially with having their phones up in the air the whole time. But I did so myself as well, though I made sure not to put it up all the time. I was in the front and so close by, it’d be insane if I was focused on taking photos instead of focusing on the boys.

Himchan, Jongup and Zelo had their solo performances in between which was amazing! Himchan en Jongup their voices solo are so beautiful. And Zelo’s dancing was amazing.

The boys seemed to have a lot of fun on stage and that made me very happy! In between the songs I had eye contact with Jongup who smiled at me, Zelo was looking at the crowd and our eyes met as well. Seeing them so close up was truly a blessing.

After we sang ‘With You’ together they left the stage, but I saw Himchan laugh when leaving so I was pretty sure they’d come back which they did. They teased us like that several times after they’d perform one song after the other.

It truly was an amazing and unforgettable experience that I will cherish forever! I can’t wait until they come to Germany again.

I really hope that the BABYs among of us who read this will realize that the boys stand for peace, equality, diversity, happiness and love. Let’s treat each other respectively with kindness. We all are the same, we all come together to see these boys that mean so much to us. Events like this should bring us together. Let us at least owe each other the fun and happiness!

If you were at the concert you’ll know what I mean, these men are very awake and showed us to become one and stronger together.

Cr. of these photo’s belong to me, do not use them without my permission and/or tagging me in it!

Written 25 Feb '16

I feel and choose to feel blessed. 

That through everything, every battle and every struggle I am still alive and well. God put so many amazing, powerful, talented, understanding, caring, beautiful and strong people on my path. Some left, some stayed. And that's okay. I am grateful for the memories we shared. 

 Life has it's ups and downs.  But I will never stop trying to make the best out of it. 

So thank you, for your time to read this. You beautiful soul. Thank you for bringing sunshine on my rainy days. Or being that extra ray of light to brighten me. 

 💖

Written 16 Feb ‘16

I have been inactive lately because of school. My health has been very low as well, I think I have to visit the hospital in a while. Sorry for not updating for so long…

 Last week I started a course I have been meaning to join for a while, my psychologists organise the course. The first day was quite relaxing and fun, we got to make a mood board on the diaries we’ve gotten to talk about our goals and what we want to improve on.     

Because I want to travel around the world soon, love the nature and mountains, I searched for pictures to use as a base of my mood board. Also a lot of quotes and words that describe what I want to work on in life is what I was searching for through the magazines.

‘On a journey’, ‘Change’, ‘Happiness’ and ‘Peace’. That is what I am looking for and want to work on in the future. ‘Possibilities’, because so many things are possible as long as you have faith and work hard to achieve you goals. ‘Because you are worth it’, I should stop crossing my own lines for others and start listening to my heart instead of my head. ‘Stress in nonsense’, no need for stress because you cause it all in your head. It’s time for a ‘Clear head’ and enjoy my life.

 I have been going to the gym for about 6 weeks straight now, I really enjoy it. When I used to hit the gym I would stop after 1-2 weeks for a very long time until I’d start exercising again.

So I am pretty proud of my achievement! I have lost 2kgs but then gained them back because I produced a lot of muscle mass. After a while I lost the 2kgs again though, thank fully.

I might try this diet called the ‘Military Diet’, it’s a three day diet. After those three days you need to eat normally for four days. I wonder if it’ll work, but I will figure it out soon!

Being more healthy and happy like this does real wonders to my body. Most of the time I am able to sleep a lot easier, I feel excited when I exercise and like the challenges!

I hope to update you all again very soon, especially when I will start doing the ‘Military Diet’ I will make a review!

 Have a blessed week.

Written 7 Jan ‘16

I have been trying to reflect a lot this week. On my life, how I have been living it. 

 Yesterday I finished the introduction course of Non Violence Communication.

While I was doing this course I had been fighting so hard inside of myself,  for me, my own well-being, being authentic and true to myself and to my heart. To God. And as I was learning to listen to myself and be emphatic to myself, I was struggling a lot with "Is it okay to feel this way?"

This course has helped me a lot to evolve into the person I am now. I feel a lot happier, more free and able to express myself. 

 I feel so grateful for the people around me who guided me in this process, helping me to figure out the answers inside of myself and what I really want.

 Though of course now that I have taken a step towards my own happiness does not mean that is the end and I will live happily ever after. My father still struggles whenever my hair is visible “You show way too much hair.” But that is how it’s supposed to be now, I explained you. Didn’t I, dad? But I suppose he must feel stressed out because he feels responsible towards me not straining from the ‘right’ path and he still doesn’t feel exactly at peace, which is understandable, about the fact that I am exploring myself. But that my father his path is the ‘right’ one for him does not simply mean that it is the ‘right’ one for me. Though who am I to say what is ‘wrong’ and what is ‘right’. There is no such thing, honestly.

I hope that my father and I will figure this out together and take steps together (hopefully hand in hand) through this process and find peace within ourselves.

 So school has started as well this week which means my internship will start about hopefully 2 weeks in time from now. I hope I will be able to find an intern where they do take me and where I am able to learn a lot!

 Which means that I will try to update once a weak, twice if possible. I cannot promise that. I wish you all a nice weekend and a blessed day!

Written 31 Dec ‘15

The last day of 2015.

Every year, on this day, people make promises to themselves. Somehow, this day seems the to be the perfect day to make this specific promise to ourselves. But holding onto this promise is the hard part.

I, too, have made some promises for myself to fulfill in 2016. Even though I think that you can make these specific promises all year round. But honestly, who isn't tempted to make them today?

I will continue to stay healthy. I will keep doing my best to learn how to love myself. I will train hard to become stronger. I will find a way for myself that works to stop stress eating. I will work hard at school and get my diploma. I will not force myself to hurry. I will enjoy life by myself in my own way and on my own pace. I will continue to be grateful for everything.

It has been some crazy year. I am very grateful and blessed for all the things I have been able to do this year that I never imagined doing. For all the progress I have made, the things I have learned, challenges I have taken even though some were terrifying.

To me, the years before 2015 were very tiring and difficult for me. And even though 2015 was exhausting as well, I feel that it was the year of taking steps in the right direction. Some people say "This year is my year! I can feel it!" And I have to admit. I have that exact feeling about 2016.

It's so important to embrace life and appreciate every day. Sometimes when I lay in bed at the end of the day, I reflect on myself. "How was today?" "How did I feel today and why?" "Are there things I could do differently tomorrow?" "What have I been lacking today that I could compensate for tomorrow?" Even though it's challenging to do this everyday. It's comforting and nice to do it once in a while. I feel that it makes us take small steps into becoming this person you promised yourself to become and grow.

It's okay if you said that last year you would loose 20 kg but lost 5, that's progress either way isn't it?

It's alright if you wanted to stop smoking in 2015 but you still smoke a pack every day.

No need to beat yourself up about it. It's your year, day, week, month or whatever you want it to be!

We should make every day our day.

I wish you all a great day and a good New Year's Eve, enjoy it with the ones you love.

Let's make 2016 our year!

Written 24 Dec ‘15

Today as I was half awake, my brother yelled from downstairs that our foster sibling would arrive today. Little than a week ago we had an intake to adopt a teenage refugee who fled without their parents or family members, it’s to offer them a place to stay at and to help the refugees out.

Because there are so many refugees they told us it would be possible that within a week we’d have a child coming over to stay at our house.

It was very exciting for us but also stressful to prepare so much in only a few hours’ time. When he arrived I was looking through the window of my room and saw him, I was feeling even more excited to meet my new little brother so I prayed before running down stairs. He introduced himself as Aziz, he fled from Afghanistan and has been in The Netherlands for a couple of months. We arranged a translator on the phone and introduced ourselves and asked one another questions.

After we hung up on the translator,  my brother and I had to prepare to head to work. He cleans at this enterprise and I’ve been helping him out a few times now. Our father offered to drop us off with Aziz so he can see a little bit of our town.

After we finished our work, dad picked us up. We arrived home for dinner and we all ate together. He seemed to enjoy dinner a lot, we taught him some words in Turkish and Dutch as he taught us some in Afghani.

He seems to like our cats a lot, which makes us very happy and him as well. Aziz is very humble and kind. Even though there is a language barrier he explains very well. After dinner we gave him other clothing to wear and prepared his bed. He showered and then my dad cut his hair in a model he wanted. After that we sat down together in the living room. My dad gave him the iPad to show us some Afghani music. Aziz seems to get along with my mother well, he was very excited to show her videos and she seemed to enjoy it as well.

After winter break we hope to enrol Aziz at a special school soon so he can learn Dutch and stay in the Netherlands. He seems very excited to learn.

I’m curious and excited about how things will turn out and how long his stay will be. Hopefully everything will go well and he’ll stay with us until the war has settled down.

Written 15 Dec ‘15

Today was the ‘Christmas Lunch’ at Elf13 with all the people working and volunteering there. It was very cosy and fun. I was really looking forward to it.

Yesterday I had a ‘Christmas Lunch’ at school with my classmates. And just like then, today there were several people asking me about the beanie. Once I explained they seemed to respect and understand it, telling me to do what feels good.

It was very nice.

I was talking to two volunteers about this, who both are religious, one is Christian and the other is Muslim. They are very kind ladies and were understanding, they told me that it’s a path to finding closure with God and myself. And that it isn’t an easy road, but that it will be okay as long as I keep the faith and do not strain from my path.

Really… I am so grateful and blessed by all the love, respect and support that I’m feeling from everyone. The positive reactions I have gotten up until now. Everyone treating me like they always have been. After all, I am still the same person they know. Only with a different appearance.

One of my mother’s two work partners asked me how I have been feeling this week. And honestly, I feel a lot less stressed than this past month and week. I still am a bit anxious of course when I went to school for example yesterday. But then I remind myself of the Canyon and just embrace my fears and take the jump.

I also feel a lot happier, I now feel that I deserve to be happy. I am able to smile freely now, from the bottom of my heart. Not a forced smile. A real smile. I’m not sure how to explain… But it feels as if I’m on the clouds.

 I feel truly blessed.