By Naazi Morad, For decades, she stayed. Through the lies, the disappearances, the broken promises. Through the withdrawals and the relapses. Through the birthdays missed and the bruises hidden....
By: Naazi Morad There are wounds the body carries that the soul cannot name. A scratch, a pull, a ritual repeated until the skin breaks—not out of malice, but...
By: Naazi Morad Reclaiming space, rewriting love, and healing the wounds we were taught to ignore.There’s a quiet kind of heartbreak that comes when you realize the people closest...
Some hearts are born generous; they will give their last meal, their last breath, their last bit of strength to someone they love, without thinking twice. These hearts don’t...
By Naazi Morad Everyone called him “The Rock.”Not because he was strong, but because he never cracked.Not once. Not in grief. Not in love. Not even when his mother...
Respect, once the pulse of familial harmony, is now fading like an iceberg under global warming. Quiet erosion. Unseen devastation. In homes where elders once sat with dignity, we...