add2watchlist: kibbeh is a lifeline + still loving 80s maximalism
happy mothers day to all of the femme figures we look up to and literally or not, call mama! ive written briefly in the past about the triggers that come with being in your parents house, seeing old pictures of yourself, and the reminders of what “was.” today i think of my mama, my tetas, my khaltos, and other female family members and ancestors who grew up in rural Sweida, Syria, a different time and place, with completely different expectations and understandings of the world my mama and i live in now. in many cultures, like for us Arabs, food is a glue that brings us together. through holidays, through the bonded thread of passed down recipes. even through living in texas and not knowing too many Arabic people, but being able to waltz into Mezze Cafe or Kismet and feeling right at home.
its been some time since ive openly written about my body dysmorphia and eating disorder struggles but im finally at a point where its less of a constant and more of a really shitty ex who randomly hits you up and wont leave you alone. being at my parents house takes me back to high school, the peak of my eating disorder, where id say no to my moms amazing cooking to instead eat insanely unsatisfying meals, like turkey and spinach (no bread, no sides) with a gallon of water. like literally saying no to shawarma because i hated myself that much…girl
i often think about my mom’s own struggles with body image, especially lately, as i've been hitting a low point in how i see myself (like :))) won’t even get into how warped my brain is right now). it’s wild how easily we can pick ourselves apart in the mirror, and how hard it is to imagine people we love, our moms, our friends, doing the same. and yet, they do and will, regardless of the loving compliments we tell them. sadly, just like the way my mom has. it equally pisses me off and hurts, knowing some of these habits and patterns were probably passed down to her too. perhaps not intentionally, but still passed down all the same.
it’s hard not to fall into a kind of…“woe is me” spiral, knowing these feelings were passed down to me, too. when your brain literally can’t see the forest for the trees because of body dysmorphia, when you're “stuck” with genetics you can’t change and have grown to dislike so intensely. it can feel impossible to imagine another way.
what is completely clear though, is that my mom didn’t grow up with words like “body neutrality,” or access to therapy, or space to process her relationship to food and self-image. she grew up in a small town in Sweida, married young, and raised kids in a whole new country. i can't even begin to comprehend the weight of that.
when i zoom out from these complex and layered feelings, i just know that now, especially in the rare moments i come home, her food means something it didn’t used to. it feels sacred. something i once said no to in my saddest moments now feels like love i’m learning how to receive.
i didn’t wanna make this piece too long, but today i’m reflecting on how disordered eating moves through generations: quiet, unspoken, misunderstood. maybe healing can, too. maybe it looks like sitting at the table again, saying yes, letting the food fill more than just hunger. maybe it looks like making space for both the pain and the tenderness, and equally honoring both.
on the flip, here’s four easy nice things you can do for yourself or for someone else before tomorrow morning:
text a friend or fam member & tell them you love them
give your puppy a bath or take them on a short walk
lay out a yoga mat & stretch your legs
journal for one minute without stopping and any expectation of what to write
a few favorites on my “on repeat” playlist:
lw kan by el shab arab
shes amazing by team dresch
the boys of summer by don henley
lifes gone down low by the lijadu sisters
7 ways to love by cola boy
blue boy by texas is the reason
one thing that sort of helps me during the self-image “lows” is researching new fun ebay finds <3
vintage freelance boots! ive been wanting a pair from the brand for forerev
adorable via spiga mary jane heels
very chic reebok italian-made driving shoes
lichterally the cutest 90s cheetah print pant and hat duo
one of the 100 80s elastic belts sitting in my list
badass vintage nylon top and bike short set
cutesy 50s-looking cherry and polka dot swim top
classic 80s shimmery jazzercise tights in black
lastly, this very cool lebanese magazine from the 80s, featuring simone, who was an incredible and iconic arabic pop singer. i looove! read more about her here - some liked to call her the “Egypt Madonna”