When I was growing up, there were like three people proud of being Muslim in American media: Muhammad Ali, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, and honestly, I can’t even remember. Non-Muslims looked at me with confused, empathetic eyes that said, “You’re like, Kwanzaa, right?”
Then, one by one, I found out about the secret Muslims: Dr. MEHMET Oz, Shaq, Ice Cube (for U.S. actor & rapper see > Ice Cube), Ellen Burstyn, Iman, Cat Stevens, Busta Rhymes, DJ Khaled, and the inventor of Lasik.
Except they weren’t secretly Muslim at all. Their Muslimness was just obscurely reported. They were known as ‘TV Host’ and ‘Doctor’ and ‘Rapper’, and their race and religion were a tiny footnote on their Wikipedia page, like they were a White person accidentally trapped inside a Black or Brown body. Whoops! Not the first time that’s happened. Continue reading “Beyonce Is Muslim, Now (And So Is Everyone Who Voted In Midterms)”
I went to Paris this summer for the first time, and I traveled alone, on purpose.
I’ve taken flights by myself before, but I had never gone on a solo trip. I was too scared or too broke or too woman or too excuse-ive. And now I was worried.
I imagined myself at 80-years-old, afraid to do things on my own. What happens when everyone I love is dead and I’m like… Damn, what now? I don’t want that! I want to be 80 and be like, Yeah, bitches, I’m in Italy! Smell ya later!
So this summer, after I talked my sister down (“Have you seen Taken?!?!?!?!?!”), and on the way back from a trip to Egypt with my beloved friend, I planned a short solo trip in Paris all for myself. Continue reading “My Solo Trip To Paris”
I took this picture on my last trip to California. I was window-shopping and feeling uncomfortable and afraid because I was wearing a midi dress for the first time – not in New York where no one knows me, but in SoCal where I’m bound to see someone I know wherever I go.
I was taking a step towards dressing how I want to, and a step further away from the dress code I was raised to follow. I had willingly (and mostly happily) followed it as an adult, but now I wanted something different.
And I was petrified that I might run into someone who might talk shit about me and pass it along the grapevine. “I hate when hijabis take off their hijab and start dressing all slutty.” I’ve heard that so many times. Continue reading “The Midi Dress”
I bought a toaster oven five years ago who cares I know.
But the other day it started burning, like whenever I would toast something I thought a fire would start. And I was like, “Oh! This is a grease fire waiting to happen!” As I learned to say in the retirement home I live in.
I was like, oh great, I need a new toaster oven.
So I went on amazon. What. There are so many toaster ovens. How do I choose? Do I buy one for $60, or do I buy one for $150? Will my life be better with a luxury toaster oven? Continue reading “Toaster Oven”
I try to put myself in a box. All the time. Everyday. There are so many boxes I try to squeeze myself into. They’re scattered all over my living room floor like an Amazon prime-shipping addict (also true).
There’s the “occupations” or ways that I occupy my time: writer doodler actor producer boss manager business owner thinker critic performer improviser director seasonal entrepreneur trailblazer filmmaker person who still doesn’t get paid for her work etc.
There’s the identities and perceptions: woman, woman of color, brown person (who still benefits on the colorism scale), muslim lady, why does everything have to be about race?, why? in general, skinny, etc.
There’s my personalities: dork shy fierce intense scary brooding thoughtful downer silly funny sequined reserved open closed bold ambitious fire…
And then there is me trying to pick a lane in myself. Trying to cut away parts of myself to conveniently explain myself. Trying to squeeze my big huge fabulous amazing-ass self into the tiniest most convenient box possible.
So to myself, today, I say: you are already the box you were meant to be in: yourself. This is your skin, your body, your gifts, your human spectrum of good and evil, your mission, your life. The world has limiting ideas of and for you. But you are limitless in your own way. You will never fit in another person’s shadow or box or self. Please try to stop trying. And recycle those damn boxes for God’s sake.
I’m excited to share that I’m hosting a new show called #TodayIMet, a conversation series that goes beyond small talk. It’s the first show Yumna Khan and I made for our company, Stranger Magic Productions.
In Episode 1, I speak with Linda Frost, my teammate from ImprovCity. Linda is fearless and bold, funny as hell, and the kind of person that makes me feel comfortable being human. We talk about falling in love at forty, gender expectations for growing up in the 40’s and 50’s, the importance of female friendships.
Throughout the conversation, I was humbled and surprised at how similar things are for women of all ages. My favorite quote from Linda was, “Be comfortable in your own skin. I’m still working on that, by the way. Just being able to say it isn’t the same as being able to do it.”
I hope you enjoy Episode 1. Please do share your thoughts in the comments. I can’t wait to hear from you!
I’ve been in a pretty negative funk lately. It’s not an uncommon phase. And occurs when I’m ‘in between’ things. Between projects and brewing what’s next. It’s an uncertain time and I am pretty hard on myself in these phases.
Looking back, these are times when I steep in feeling crappy about something, but that something leads me to figuring out my next steps. So it’s kind of like a winter. Just cold and sad and brutal, until I’m ready to… oh God, I’m going to make a pun: spring into action.
I was just washing some dishes, realizing that I think that people I deem to be successful don’t have these feelings. That they don’t experience negative emotions.
An Aha! moment. Continue reading “I’m in creative hibernation.”