Differently or with difference?



I consider myself a feminist – of sorts. See, I think that women shoot themselves in the foot sometimes in the name of being feminists, and end up giving up on some feminine perks in the name of equality.

Anyway, despite being a feminist- of -sorts,
And advocating for the right to drive in Saudi and all that..
I have to say, it’s not a hardship to be treated like a lady from time to time.

To have the driver not only drop you off right at the door of the store you want, but then to say: ” Madame, wait in the car while I check if the store is open”
Ok… thanks

Or to watch the store clerk and the driver discuss who gets to carry your heavy bags to the car( baby supplies not designer shoes I promise).

Or to have someone become a little flustered, and change their manner when they realize there is a lady in the room.

Again, I know not everyone is as fortunate as I am, and there is a lot to be done for women all over the world. I am a fierce advocate of women’s rights ( just you wait and see what I plan to do here once I get settled 💪🏻)

I’m just saying, for the sake of my wellbeing..
In the present, in the meantime, while things slowly and gently change with our soft powers of influence, with respect for our history and tradition and the pace of change..

I can either rant about not driving
or enjoy the perks of having a driver

If a man offers to carry my suitcase, I can get all offended and assume it’s a slight to my strength,
Or realize his gesture for what it is was meant: an act of respect and reverence for my femininity.


I can be angry that women are treated “differently”
but I choose instead, to focus on how they are treated with “difference”.

Image retrieved from:

How dare you

violenceToday is the international day for the elimination of violence against women.This is the voice I wish women could find in themselves.

I find it shocking that anyone could harm a woman at all, let alone a pregnant woman. Is there anything more sacred than a pregnant woman?

yet shockingly, the number one cause of death for pregnant women, at least in one study, was violence! See below



How dare you

Raise your hand to me

How dare you

Touch a hair




On my  coiffed head!

my hairdo!

Do you think

That I am scared?




You say

You didn’t mean it

You say it

Like I care




The first time

Is the hardest

So you’ll surely

again dare




You lost me

Before it landed

Your fist

still in mid-air




You touched me once

That was our end

Touch me again

You’ll end I swear



And do you know how much I paid to get my hair done?

Stupid bully💪🏻


Study: http://www.webmd.com/baby/news/20010320/number-1-cause-of-death-in-pregnant-women-murder

Breast Cancer


My friend Nour Albar battled breast cancer and passed away in 2015. There are so many people who have more right to miss her than I do, but I think there is enough empty space left by her passing for us all to share.


You and I

We are sisters


Walking parallel paths

That sometimes magically cross

Both top of the class

Both chose psychiatry

Both accepted at McGill

Both had a “Mariam”



Our recognition was instant

I have no doubt we were kindred spirits

In another life

Yet you were always better than me

Ahead of me

Proud of you,

I tried to catch up

Follow in your footsteps

Make you proud too

But I never thought

You’d pick up speed so fast

So soon

All the way to the finish line

And to heaven



We’ve met in two cities

In two lives

I hope to see you in the next

So we can finally

Just sit together

And talk

Like soulmates

Like sisters

Hoping to join you when my time’s up too.



Visit Noor’s blogs and pray for her:

ِArabic:  http://drnooralbar.blogspot.ca/2014/01/blog-post.html

English: http://drnooralbar-english.blogspot.ca



الله يرحمك يا نور ويرفع درجتك في عليين و يجمعنا في الغرفات آمنين