Chaimaa Dami's Blog

It’s been a while since I’ve written anything here.
Not because I had nothing to say, but because I wasn’t feeling much.
And when you’re not feeling much, it’s hard to create, hard to reflect, hard to even begin. But here I am, typing again and somehow, it feels like coming home.

A few days ago, I received an email: “Congratulations, you’ve been verified as a writer on Medium.”
It was simple, just a small badge, really. But it meant more to me than I expected. For someone who has always turned to words for comfort, for clarity, for survival this felt like a reminder to keep going.

My first poetry book “The Sun Will Shine Again ” didn’t start off as a book at all.
I never sat down thinking, “I’m going to write a poetry collection.” There was no grand plan. Just feelings ,deep, overwhelming, often painful that had nowhere else to go. So I wrote them down, one poem at a time, in the pages of my private journal. It became my way of processing what I couldn’t always say out loud.

Whenever something cracked me open a memory, a heartbreak, a moment of loss I found myself scribbling lines. Sometimes late at night, sometimes in the middle of the day, always when it felt like too much to carry on my own.

One day, I read two of those poems to my friends, and after I finished, there was silence , the good kind, and then one of them said: “Wait. If that were in a book, I’d definitely buy it.”
That was the moment it clicked. I’ve always wanted to be a writer always dreamed of sharing something that made people feel seen. And now I had this little collection, so I started putting it together.

And that’s how The Sun Will Shine Again was born.

It’s a book that moves through the stages of loss denial, anger, bargaining, grief, acceptance and healing.

The more I wrote, the more I realized that healing isn’t a destination. It’s not something you “achieve” and move on from. It’s a path you walk every day sometimes forward, sometimes sideways, sometimes in circles.

There are days where you feel fine and then suddenly, a memory hits you like a wave, and you’re back in the ache. That doesn’t mean you’re not healing. It just means you’re still human.

“It’s okay if you thought you were over it and it hits you all over again. It’s okay to fall apart, even after you thought you had it all under control.”

One thing I’ve learned is that we don’t have to rush our way out of sadness.
We live in a world that glorifies bouncing back, staying strong, pretending we’re fine. But there’s strength in softness, too. In admitting you’re not okay. In giving yourself space to fall apart and begin again.

So here’s what I’m learning, slowly and gently:

That the sun does come back even after long nights.That you are allowed to fall apart. You are also allowed to rebuild.That your story isn’t over, even if you don’t like this chapter.That it’s okay not to have it all figured out no one really does.And that we’ll figure it out. In our own time, in our own way.

If you’re reading this and you’re in the thick of it feeling lost, stuck, or numb I want you to know something:
You’re not behind. You’re not broken. You’re just becoming.

And I promise you: The sun will shine again.

Thank you for being here, for reading, and for holding space with me.

With love,
Shay

✨ If you’d like to read The Sun Will Shine Again, you can find it on my profile.

[image error]

Being Everything at Once : The Art of Balancing Passions Without Losing YourselfPhoto by Randalyn Hill on Unsplash

For as long as I can remember, I’ve felt pulled in many directions , not out of confusion, but out of love and passion . Love for stories, for words, for languages. Love for music, for notes and the silence in between. Love for having an impact on people, for dreaming of a world where I could do a little bit of everything, and somehow still stay true to who I am.

But the world doesn’t always make space for everything. From a young age, we’re asked, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” as if we must only be one thing. One title. One path. One career. And for a long time, I tried to fit into that mold. I believed that if I wasn’t focused on a single interest, I’d be seen as unfocused and I’ll lose all passions.

So I tried to choose, I told myself to prioritize one path to be “just” a writer or “just” a musician or “just” a scientist. But the truth is, every time I shut one door, it felt like I was leaving a piece of myself behind. I wasn’t happier or more productive; I was frustrated, half-alive, and missing the parts of me I had put behind.

That’s when I started to realize that maybe the idea of having one true calling isn’t meant for everyone. Maybe “being everything at once is not a burden, but a gift”.

The challenge lies in balance , not in doing it all at once, but in knowing when each part of you needs to breathe. There are seasons when I’m consumed by writing , when the words pour out of me and I live in notebooks and cursors. And there are other seasons when music takes the lead, when I find comfort in keys and chords instead of sentences. And still others, when my mind longs to learn, to translate, to study, to teach, to build…

None of these moments cancel the others, they all make me myself.

And yet, balancing passions requires more than time management. It requires self-compassion. Because there are days when I feel guilty for not doing enough, when I feel like I’m falling behind on one dream while chasing another. But I’ve learned to sit with that discomfort and ask myself: “What do I need right now? What brings me alive in this moment?”

One of the most liberating things I’ve realized is that not every passion has to become a career, not every interest has to be monetized, optimized, or turned into content. Some things like music, journaling, painting, or simply reading under the stars are sacred, they don’t really need an audience, they just need you. And when we allow those things to exist without pressure, they often give more back than we ever expected.

I’ve also stopped believing in the myth of “having it all figured out.” The truth is, we evolve. What we love now may shift, deepen, or bloom into something new later, and that’s beautiful. Life isn’t a straight line, It’s a dance between passion and rest, between certainty and curiosity, between who we are and who we’re becoming.

So if you’re someone who feels like too much, or like you can’t choose just one dream , you’re not lost. The world needs people like you, people who bring depth and diversity into everything they do, don’t let society’s narrow definitions shrink you.

Let yourself be all of it. Be the writer, be the musician, the dreamer, the scientist, the storyteller, the seeker. You were never meant to be one thing you were meant to be whole.

And if I could leave you with just one piece of advice, it would be this: give yourself permission to grow in all directions. You don’t need to have a perfect plan, you don’t need to apologize for your love of many things. The goal isn’t to do it all perfectly the goal is to stay connected to your joy, your purpose, and your truth.

With love

Shay

[image error]

Photo by Gabriel on Unsplash

In my very first blog, I shared how I used to be an intense planner. My life was filled with checklists, calendars, and detailed roadmaps that stretched out weeks, even months, ahead. There was a certain comfort in knowing exactly where I was going, how I would get there, and what each step would look like. Planning, for me, was a shield against the unknown.

However, life, as it often does, had other ideas. I began to realize that maybe planning every little detail wasn’t always the best thing. Life has a way of surprising us, and sometimes, we need to make space for the unexpected.

After high school, I had a clear vision of what I wanted my future to look like. I had one goal that I built my dreams around: to get into Med school. Everything was mapped out, the exams I needed to pass, the preparations I had to make, the steps I would take to reach my goal. For years, I followed this plan with a huge determination, believing it was the only path for me.

Eventually, I didn’t get into medical school. The future I had envisioned for myself, the one I had poured years of hard work into, slipped away in an instant. I remember feeling angry, sad and disappointed, blaming everyone around me and even myself for what felt like a personal failure.I had spent so much time building my life around one dream, and now that it was gone, I felt like I had lost myself too.

In the days that followed, I found myself asking questions I didn’t have answers to: What now? What is my purpose? The career I had worked so hard for was no longer an option. I was standing at a dark path, staring into the unknown. Should I hold on to that dream and keep trying despite the odds? Or should I let it go and find a new path? The uncertainty felt like a weight I wasn’t ready to carry.

This was one of the hardest moments I’ve faced. But as time passed, I realized something important: failure, while painful, isn’t the end of the road. In fact, it’s often the beginning of something entirely new.

And here I am, still standing. Still growing.Still learning. The journey has been anything but predictable, but I’ve come to embrace its twists . I’ve had my fair share of failures, and there will certainly be more to come. But what I’ve learned is that at the end, there’s always the possibility of success, that there is always light at the end of that dark path,and that the future often hides better things than we could ever plan for.

If you’re reading this and feel like your plans are falling apart, know that you’re not alone. The unknown can feel like you’ve lost your direction, like you don’t know where to go next. But trust me ,there’s a lot of power in embracing it.

So, here’s my advice to you, especially if you’re feeling lost or uncertain: embrace the discomfort. Not having all the answers doesn’t mean you’ve lost your way. Sometimes, the path you’re meant to walk isn’t the one you’ve planned. It’s the one that unfolds when you least expect it.

Let go of the need for certainty, and remember that the unknown is full of potential. It’s where you’ll find the courage you didn’t know you had, the strength to move forward. And above all, believe that there’s always a new opportunity just around the corner , one that may be even more beautiful and fulfilling than the plan you had in mind.

So let’s embrace the unknown together. It’s not the end of the story, it’s the beginning of a brand new chapter.

With love

Shay

[image error]

A Quiet Conversation with Fear : Thoughts from a heart still learning to be bravePhoto by Tonik on Unsplash

Hello again.
This is my second article here and this time, I think I know exactly what I want to say.

Last night, before diving into a deep sleep, which usually takes me a couple of hours because of the voices in my mind: thoughts racing, making up fake scenarios, imaginary dialogues and sometimes dramatic monologues. But in the middle of all that noise, I realized I had a guest.

Fear.

Soft and quiet.
Almost like an old friend who never really left.

The atmosphere felt dark and foggy. The world around me was calm, the kind of quiet that makes your thoughts louder.

That’s where I met fear. The thing that scares us and stops us from starting… from speaking… from trying…

I asked it questions I’d been asking myself for years.

“Why do you do this?”
“Why do you stop people from reaching their goals? From taking that first step?”
“Why do you fill our heads with endless what ifs?”

What if you’re not good enough?
What if you fail?
What if they laugh at you?
What if no one understands you?
What if it never works out?

That reminded me of all the times I’ve doubted myself.
How often I’ve feared the future, people’s opinions, or simply the passing of time without me having done enough.
I’ve been afraid of not being good enough.
Of being misunderstood.

And fear listened..

Then gently said:

“It’s not me who decides. You do.”

“I don’t stop you. You stop yourself. I just plant the question. You choose the answer.”

It hit me deeply ,that fear doesn’t actually have control.
I do.

Fear doesn’t build the walls.
We do, when we believe it more than we believe in ourselves.

And maybe that’s the hardest part; realizing that “we’re not always being stopped… we’re just scared to start”.

We tend to believe that something is holding us back a lack of time, a lack of support, not being ready yet but often, what’s really happening is this:
We’re afraid.

Afraid of failing.
Afraid of being seen trying and not succeeding.
Afraid that we’re not good enough or that we’ll be judged.
Afraid of putting our hearts out there and being misunderstood.

So instead of starting, we wait.
We stall…
We convince ourselves it’s not the right time.

But deep down, it’s not that we can’t.
It’s that we’re scared to take that first step , because that first step feels like a risk.
Like leaving the comfort of not trying.

Fear isn’t always the villain.
Sometimes it’s just a voice trying to protect us , It warns us of risk, of change, of discomfort. But it doesn’t know the difference between danger and growth.

Only we do.

So here I am, still learning to be brave.
Still learning to walk alongside fear.
Still figuring out how to keep going even with a heart full of doubt.

Still figuring out how to take one more step forward, even when I don’t know what’s waiting for me.

And maybe that’s what bravery really is:
Not the absence of fear, but the decision to move anyway.
To show up. To speak. To try.
Even when you’re not sure how the story ends.

To anyone reading this , if fear is visiting you tonight, just know.
You don’t have to fight it.
You can talk to it.
And then you can choose.

Choose to be soft.
Choose to try.
Choose to begin.

Because your story matters

And fear… doesn’t get to write the ending.

With love, from a heart still figuring it out,
Shay

[image error]

By Chaima (Shay)

Photo by Sixteen Miles Out on Unsplash

This is my first blog, and honestly? I have no idea what I’m doing. I’ve been sitting here during my break at the lab , I’m currently doing an internship (which I’ll tell you more about in another time) and I just felt this sudden urge to write. I’ve had this little blog idea sitting in the back of my head for a while now, and today, in between experiments and waiting for the next step to start, I finally opened my laptop and… well, here we are.

I’ve already typed and erased this intro more times than I can count.
There are so many thoughts in my head, but somehow, they all turn into fog the second I try to put them into words. Still, here I am, writing anyway. Not because I have everything figured out ,but because something inside me needs to speak.

So… Hello. I’m Chaima but my friends call me Shay.
I’m 21, a biology graduate, a pianist with a love for chopin, a writer who’s always second-guessing her sentences, and a part-time translator when life calls for it. This blog is a little corner of mine, a place where I can share pieces of my story, without filters or expectations.

Writing has always been my solace.
There’s something about putting my fingers on a keyboard and letting the words find their way it feels almost like playing a Mozart Sonata. The way words come together, it’s not always perfect, but it’s there. It’s mine.

My love for writing started when I was a kid, with a diary I kept hidden.
I’d write in secret, flashlight in hand, scribbling stories about school, friends, the girls I didn’t like, the people I admired, and , of course my little crushes. That diary was a safe space where no one could interrupt or judge what I had to say. And even though a lot has changed since then, the urge to write never really left.

And here I am, a young woman who once planned every hour of every day, every detail of her life… now learning to let go.
I used to have timelines for everything. I wanted to be so sure of what came next. But life has taught me that sometimes, the most honest version of ourselves comes out when we stop trying to control everything and just let things be.

Two years ago, in one of those hard times, I wrote a poetry book called The Sun Will Shine Again.
It’s filled with sadness, softness, healing, and hope. I haven’t published it yet. Maybe I was scared. Maybe I still am. Or maybe, deep down, I was waiting for the right moment ,the right version of me to finally share it. And maybe, this blog is that moment. Or the beginning of it.

I’ve been meaning to write this post for weeks. I kept wondering if anyone would read it, if it would even matter. But today, in the calm of this internship break, in a quiet spot , I decided to stop thinking and just write.I don’t know if this’ll make it out of my folders but I’m here, writing when I can.

If you’re here ,thank you. Really.
Whether you’re someone who knows me, or someone who just happened to stumble across this, I appreciate you being here. I hope this space feels familiar, like a conversation with a friend.

This blog isn’t going to be perfect.
It won’t always be structured or polished. But it’ll be true This is just the beginning ,stay tuned for stories, reflections, and maybe even a few poems. I promise it’ll get even more interesting from here.

So here’s to beginnings ,small, quiet, honest ones.
I’m Shay. And this is me, debuting my writing career.

Until next time,
with love.

[image error]