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....
For decades, children who didn’t sit still, didn’t follow instructions, or didn’t fit the mold were given labels. Some were called “naughty.” Others were told they were “slow.” And...
By Naazi Morad There’s a quiet grief that settles in when a seasoned employee is asked to step aside, not because they’ve failed, but because they’ve aged. In boardrooms...
By Naazi Morad Wellness Within Therapy They say goodbye at the gate,but they carry you in every step forward.To leave home for work in another country is often framed...
For Raeesa, my daughter across the sea Once a year, the airport blooms, not with flowers, but with breath held tight.I count the steps between arrivals,watching glass doors like...
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...
Get well soon: My Naazi Morad Without our health, we are nothing.Whether you’re self-employed, working under a boss, a devoted housewife, or navigating unemployment your ability to show up...
In the quiet corners of my Zen Garden, healing doesn’t always wear a human face. Sometimes, it walks slowly on four clawed feet, or curls up in a sunbeam...
BY: Naazi Morad There are moments in parenting that feel almost invisible: the moment you ask your child to greet an elder and they refuse. The moment they pull...
Have you ever noticed how the loudest voice in the room is often your own mind—and not always your kindest ally? We’re taught to trust our thoughts as truth....