“I am not a strong woman because I never fell — I am strong because every time I did, I stood up again. Each fall taught me that strength is not about endurance alone, but about rising wiser, more patient, and more certain of my worth.”
I am a woman from the New Askar Refugee Camp, a widow and a mother of seven. Four of them are married, and three still depend on me for every detail of their lives.
The Roots of My First Strength
In my childhood, I lived in a very supportive family. My father was my first and greatest support. He used to say to me, “My daughter, keep those who love and respect you before your eyes, and turn away from those who don’t respect you.” This sentence remained with me as a life motto, reminding me that my dignity is above all else.
I grew up feeling strong, but life changed a lot after marriage. I lived in a small house in the camp. At first, I was content and patient, but as my family grew, a single room gathered my six children, while my husband and I slept in the living room. I felt suffocated, under constant discomfort and anxiety. It wasn’t just the place, but the constraints that surrounded me—the interference of my in-laws, the constant problems, and a feeling of helplessness. When my children started to grow up, our lives became harder, and my husband wasn’t thinking about how we could solve our problems. At that point, I decided to work and look for a new house.
A Soul Crushed by the Heavy Burden
I started working in a sewing workshop from morning until afternoon, and then I would go home to sell clothes, perfumes, and makeup. I sold my gold to afford the down payment for the new house. My husband refused to contribute; on the contrary, he was a source of worry and threats, constantly creating problems and complaining about my work. I suffered from conflicts with him and his family, but I remained patient and steadfast, though internally exhausted and mentally drained. With my own effort and persistence, I managed to find a house and move my family from the tightness of the camp to the spaciousness of the city.
From Breaking Point to Healing
But the main turning point in my life came after my husband’s death. Problems seemed to surroundme from every direction, with others interfering in my life and the lives of my children. And even though I am strong, I reached a breaking point. In those moments, my sister and my friend were my support. They encouraged me to join a support group for psychosocial support. At first, I was committed to silence, listening more than I spoke. But with time, I realised that talking doesn’tweaken you; it liberates you. I saw myself in the stories of other women and learned that peace is created with awareness and self-care. The most important thing I learned is that psychological support is not a luxury; it is a lifebuoy, and when someone extends their hand to pull you out, you feel as if you have been reborn.
A Woman Who Knows Her Worth
Today, after all I have been through, I can say that I am stronger, more self-aware, and more aware of my rights. My children are my strength; they are the reason I get up every morning, even when my heart is weary. I am not the same woman I used to be. Now, I am a woman who knows her worth, a woman who knows she deserves to live.
My message to every woman who has been through an experience like mine is: Be strong for yourself, for your health, for your future. Do not let anyone decide for you or break you. Be you, and always keep your eyes facing forward.