MyWorldMyLife

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Things I wish I knew at the beginning of my cancer diagnosis

As May begins to unfold and spring finds its full bloom, I’m marking something deeply personal... my third cancerversary. This time of year feels different now. It’s not just about longer days and warmer air; it’s about reflection, resilience, and honoring how far I’ve come. Three years ago, my life was divided into a “before” and an “after.” Since then, I’ve learned lessons I never expected to learn: about strength, fear, patience, and perspective. As I sit with this milestone, these are the truths that have made the road gentler, and maybe they’ll meet you wherever you are in your own season of healing or growth. You are not behind After treatment, I felt pressure to “bounce back”... physically, emotionally, professionally. I thought I should be further along in my recovery, more like my old self. But healing doesn’t follow a schedule. There is no universal timeline for rebuilding. Where you are right now is not behind; it’s in progress. Speak up for what you need For a long tim...

Family Favourite Fruit Crumble

I want to tell you about this fruit crumble and why it quickly became a family favourite recipe. A while ago, when I wasn’t feeling well, my friend Stef made it for me. Just the smell of it baking, soft, juicy fruit under a golden, buttery oat crumble.... made me feel cared for and a little bit better, even on a tough day. It’s such a simple, comforting dessert, perfect for using whatever fruit you have on hand. Serve it warm with custard, cream, or ice cream, and it instantly feels like a hug from the inside. I hope one day, when you make it yourself, it reminds you of Stef’s kindness and of the way food can bring comfort and love. Ingredients 4 oz self-raising flour 1 oz porridge oats 3 oz butter 3 oz sugar Fresh fruit (enough to fill an ovenproof dish) A little water Instructions: Preheat your oven to 170°C (conventional) . Prepare the fruit by placing it into an ovenproof dish. Add a little water to prevent it from drying out. In a mixing bowl, ru...

The opening line that changed everything

Can I just take a second to talk about the best opening line ever written? “Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.” Tolstoy really knew what he was doing with Anna Karenina , didn't he? I’ve found myself obsessed with this idea, applying it to almost every corner of my world: family life, my kids, friendships…. even work (believe it or not!). There’s something so profound about how "normalcy" feels universal, while the hard stuff feels incredibly specific. But since cancer entered my life, those words have taken on a much deeper, more personal meaning. Before my diagnosis, health felt... well, ordinary. It was predictable. Days had a rhythm I didn't even think to question. I never realized that those "uneventful" stretches, the boring Tuesdays, the routine school runs, the quiet evenings were actually a form of happiness I hadn't learned to appreciate yet. Cancer changed that perspective overnight. It showed me just...

Moroccan Sweet Couscous (Seffa)

This is the couscous your grandma used to make for me, your aunties and your uncle whenever we had couscous left over after a big tagine meal. Instead of letting anything go to waste, she would turn it into something magical... warm, sweet, and comforting. The smell of cinnamon and butter filling the kitchen meant we were about to get a special treat. Now I’m passing it on to you. Ingredients 1 cups couscous 1/4 cup raisins 1/4 cup toasted almonds 1 tablespoon sugar (or more if you like it sweeter) 1 teaspoon cinnamon 1 tablespoon butter Instructions Use a 1:1 ratio of dry couscous to boiling water or broth (e.g., 1 cup of each). Combine them in a bowl with a pinch of salt and 1 tablespoon of butter, mix in the raisins so they become plump and juicy. Cover tightly with a lid or plastic wrap, and let it stand for 5–10 minutes before fluffing with a fork. Transfer the couscous to a large bowl. While it’s still warm, stir...

Trusting the unseen: Ramadan and healing

Back in my chemo chair for my fifth Zometa infusion… and this time, it falls in Ramadan. There’s something about Ramadan that feels collective. Even if you’re not Muslim, you can probably relate to having certain seasons in the year that feel different; more intentional, more reflective, more connected. For us, Ramadan is that month. Yes, we fast from dawn to sunset. But it’s also about slowing down... about discipline when it’s hard, patience when you’re tired, and remembering what really matters. And today, my Ramadan looked different. Instead of fasting, I was hooked up to an IV. Instead of preparing for iftar, I was listening to the steady beep of machines and watching medication drip into my veins. I won’t pretend that it didn’t sting a little. There’s something tender about knowing your family is moving through the day in a shared rhythm, breaking fast together and you’re sitting it out. But faith isn’t one-size-fits-all. In Islam, when you’re unwell, you’re not just allowed to p...

Stuffed zucchini in yogurt sauce (Syrian koosa bil laben)

In our home, there’s a tradition I hope you’ll always remember. On the very first Iftar of Ramadan, we always make something with a white sauce. It might be creamy béchamel or a warm yogurt sauce, but the meaning is the same. As we stir the pot, we quietly pray that the month begins “white” and stays that way, full of peace, ease, and blessings for all 30 days. This stuffed zucchini in yogurt sauce is one of those dishes. It’s comforting, familiar, and full of love, the kind that gathers everyone around the table and reminds us what this month is really about. Ingredients: 8–10 medium zucchinis 2 tablespoons olive oil 1 medium onion, finely chopped ½ teaspoon salt 500g plant-based minced meat (or minced beef) Salt Black pepper 1 teaspoon 7 mixed spices 4 cups plain whole yogurt 2 tablespoons cornstarch 4 cloves garlic, crushed ½ teaspoon salt (or to taste) 2 tablespoons pine nuts, toasted Instructions: Step1: prepare the zucchini Wash and dry the zucchinis. Cut off th...

Strength in struggles

If you scroll through my social media, you’ll see smiles, family milestones, and small moments of joy I’ve intentionally carved out along the way. You’ll see birthday cakes, sunny days, hugs with the people I love. Those snapshots are real and they matter. They remind me, even on the hardest days, that life is still beautiful and absolutely worth celebrating. But photos only ever tell part of the story. What they don’t show are the quiet moments behind the scenes; the fear that creeps in before every scan, the hospital appointments squeezed in between school runs and “normal” working day life, the days when simply getting out of bed feels like climbing a mountain. Two and a half years ago, my world suddenly filled with words I never expected to know so well: surgery, chemo, radiation, targeted therapy, hormonal therapy, Lymphedema.. .etc. They became part of my everyday vocabulary overnight. I still remember the night before my first treatment; lying awake, scared, overwhelmed and ...