Clocking into life...

So many things happening. Work, life, and more life. Sometimes I have to remind myself that life is bigger than work, and to stop associating work as life. But lately, life has been 50% work. Or maybe more. I clock in at 7.30am and only left the office at 8pm. So yeah, pardon my math earlier—it’s definitely more than half a day.

Life Update

Nawwafh, my newborn (in case you missed out, I've written a few blog posts about him), has turned 4 months! During his last check-up, his weight was way above the recommended curve, and I'm sooo happy. Alhamdulillah, it means he's absorbing all the breastmilk well. It makes me feel good and motivated to keep going. He’s already fitting into Iryss’ clothes from when she was 7 months old. We even compared their baby photos and he's clearly bigger than her. Go Nawwafh, go!

And then there’s Iryss, my sweet sweet firstborn. She's now… a full-on teenager. Okay she's turning 4 in July but emotionally? Rollercoaster. I suspect it’s because she wants all the attention (which I get, as a fellow firstborn myself 😂). But it also made me realise that with work hours stretching longer, she needs more of me. So dear colleagues, if I don’t reply after 8pm or on weekends, it’s because I’m clocking into another duty, the biggest amanah of all: being a mom.

And then there’s Pan, my husband. And no, his name is not Irfan haha. I call him Peter Pan. He’s been a gem, so understanding, so helpful. From helping with the chores to taking over cooking when I’m stuck with work. Our favourite kind of night? The eve of a public holiday, kids asleep, just us and a movie. Or the long car rides to Melaka or PD (long because… hello, traffic). But at least we get to just talk and talk.

I always believed in finding the right partner, and Alhamdulillah, I found mine. I once saw a viral video telling girls to “shop around” before getting married. I didn’t really shop around hahah (for realll) but I found the right one. My theory? Find the right place, and you’ll find the right one. In my case, the head prefect leadership camp lol. And yes, I’ll probably tell my kids that too. No pressure kids. Just sharing what worked for Mama :P

And there's mu dad, who just had his last day at Pet after 33 years of service. 33 years?! I said it twice because… wow. In my generation, if you last more than 5 years in a company, you practically deserve an award (which I should, by the way... 5 years and counting hahah). We had a small celebration, and it was beautiful to see the love and respect people showed my dad, it was heartwarming.

At home, he's just our Ayah, typical dad. But we always wondered: what was he like at work? As a colleague? As a boss? I used to go to him for advice; school, career, life, and even when he was tired or mentally still at work, he’d try his best to focus. My family says I might win the “workaholic” title next, and honestly? Fair.

But what I learned from him is this: he didn’t work hard for himself. Not for praise, not for promotions. He worked hard for us. For the family. To give us what we needed, to grant our wishes, to give us the best possible education and life.

I often question, why did he stay so long? Didn’t he ever feel like giving up? I’m sure he did. I’m sure there were years of feeling demotivated or underappreciated, like how I feel sometimes. But the thing is, he never spoke badly about the company. Ever. To him, without Pet, he wouldn’t be able to give us this life. And for that, he was grateful.

And then there’s Mama. For all of those 33 years, she was there. Behind the scenes. Preparing his clothes, managing the house, making sure the kids were okay, sorting the bills cause she's the CFO, clearing the kitchen after he cooked (yes, he cooks), reminding him to eat his meds… all of that, just so he could focus on work. He had her. And that made all the difference.

I think my generation, myself included, always wants more. And that’s great. It keeps us driven. But sometimes, we forget the basics. We forget gratitude. We forget to thank Allah for what He’s already given us.

Everything, this life we’re living, everything we have, is from Him. I believe that because my dad was always thankful, Allah gave him more. And when Allah gave him more, we felt it too. The whole family felt the blessings. And that’s the kind of joy he always worked for. Not for himself, but for his family.

It changes wow I see work now (and I hope for long). Yes, lately work has been consuming my time. But I’m grateful. Because this job is what helps us live, what supports the family, what gives us the life we have. We may not be earning as much as some of our peers, but we’re happy. We have our kids, our joy, our amanah. They’re the reason we get up each day. And having a partner like Pan, that’s a huge blessing too. Sometimes we forget how much that matters.

I’m crying as I write this. And I’m reminded of a quote I once read but I forget who said it:
"If today you're only living with the things you thanked Allah for yesterday, what are you living with?"

Honestly? Probably not much. 

Because I need to be more thankful.

So today, I’m saying thank you.
For my parents.
For my husband.
For my children.
For all the things I've just written about.

Thank you, Allah, for all of them.

The Internet Has Been Scaring Me Lately

My social media threads have been sounding a little depressing lately. Maybe it’s just me, but the amount of negativity I read, it’s like a projection of people’s true feelings, and honestly, I just can’t contain it anymore. It overwhelms me. It makes me scared, anxious, and a little bit terrified of where we’re all heading.

Some might say, “Well, you posted it, you asked for it.” But I’m mostly on the other end of that thought. Like, why can’t we just say something nice? And if we really can’t find anything nice to say... why not just keep quiet?

And somehow, as if always perfectly timed, Aida Azlin came through again in her Closer email last Tuesday. The dua she shared was so beautiful, it just hit right where it needed to. SubhanAllah :( it’s like Allah sent it through her to act as a great reminder.

But the reason I’m writing this post... goes a little deeper.

Last month, someone took my dad’s picture and circulated it on the news and social media, wrongly accusing him of something he didn’t do. His photo appeared on Google when people searched the name of the actual accused, and somehow, it got picked up and spread through WhatsApp, Telegram, Facebook. People just forwarded and shared without thinking. The comments… ya Allah, they were insane.

But thank God for the people who know my dad and his work, who stood up for him and helped clarify things. My dad is a man with the kindest heart and I don’t say that just because I’m his daughter. I’ve never met anyone so humble, so giving. He treats everyone with respect, even when he doesn't get the same in return. He’s helped so many people without expecting anything back. And to see him being wrongly accused like that… it broke something in me.

I posted about it on Instagram, and I’m so grateful to everyone who supported and shared the truth. Because of you, the post reached so many accounts. Still, I can’t help but think how easy it was for people to believe something false, just because it looked “official.”

This incident really opened my eyes, and my heart. It reminded me not to trust everything we see online. Not every forwarded message, not every viral post. Everything must be fact-checked. And before we post or comment on something, just imagine if the person you're talking about was your own family. Imagine saying those things to their face. Just because we’re behind screens doesn’t mean there are no real consequences. The pain is real. The damage is real. In this world and in the next...

Then recently, there’s the whole situation with Sincerely Vivy going viral. I’ve been following her since her early days, one of her first email subscribers. I was curious to see what her life looked like now that she’s in her “de-influence” era. Whatever she’s done, wrongly accused or truly guilty, only Allah knows. But the level of hatred she’s been getting… it’s just a lot.

Even after she shared her diagnosis - SLE, a chronic illness, I thought people would be softer. Kinder. But no. The threads were still fuming.

And that made me sad. Because in Islam, when someone is sick, we’re taught to make dua for them, to visit them, to care. That’s the sunnah. Even if you’re angry or disappointed, at the very least, be decent. But what I saw was the opposite, especially from fellow Muslims. It just didn’t sit right with me.

These two stories made me realize something: I want to keep believing the best in people. Everyone’s carrying something we don’t see. Everyone has a story, a struggle. And just because their lives are public doesn’t mean we have a right to add to their pain or worse, to spread more lies about them.

It’s made me post less. Reveal less. I’m honestly scared of what the internet can do. I know I can’t generalise as there are still kind, loving people online. But the loud ones, the hateful ones, they make it hard to breathe sometimes.

So I’m choosing to rant here, on my blog. My safe space. I miss the old days, the blog era, tumblr days, when people were so supportive of one another, when the internet felt more like a community than a battleground.

Let’s try to keep that harmony here, shall we?