u/Hungry_Tailor308

Hello everyone :)

I’m from Italy and I’ll graduate next year with a degree in History. Lately I’ve been thinking seriously about moving to Canada in the future and trying to build a new life there.

Even though it’s something I really want, I also feel quite nervous about it. I would most likely be alone at the beginning, far from family and friends, and sometimes I wonder if I’m being unrealistic about finding work and adapting to a completely new environment.

I wanted to ask if anyone here has had a similar experience or maybe some advice to share. With a History degree, what kind of opportunities could realistically exist? Do you think it would be better to continue studying after graduation? And emotionally, how hard was it for you to start over alone in another country?

Thank you so much to anyone who takes the time to reply I’d genuinely appreciate hearing your thoughts and experiences.

I’m a Muslim from Italy and I’m thinking seriously about moving to Canada in the future. I will graduate next year with a degree in History, but honestly I’m worried because I don’t think it offers many job opportunities, especially abroad.

Another thing that scares me is that I would probably be completely alone there, without family or close friends. I really want a better future and a good Muslim environment, but I’m also afraid of struggling financially and emotionally.

I wanted to ask if anyone here has had a similar experience or has advice for me. What kind of jobs could I realistically look for with a History degree? Would it be better to study something else after graduating? And how difficult is it to start over alone in Canada as a Muslim ?

Salam everyone.

I wanted to share a reflection with this community about growing up, loneliness, and how Allah places light and mercy in our hearts even when we feel completely forgotten by the world.

When I was little, I was a very lonely child. Partly because I was foreign in a place that could be very cruel. I still remember one mother telling me I was “dirty” and to stay away from her daughter. I was so small, but those words stayed inside me for years. I suffered so much that I started being afraid people would become angry just by looking at me. as I grew, I realized that Allah does not burden a soul beyond what it can bear, and that after every hardship comes ease. I realized that the pain I went through wasn't meant to break me, but to purify my heart.

So instead of becoming bitter, I built my own little world. And now I hold tightly only to the beautiful memories, the ones that made me survive. I write them down because I want them to exist forever.

My mother didn’t have much money when I was growing up, but one day she still bought me an expensive book and that italian and sweet book made me want to finish school, dream about distant places, and discover words that hold entire emotions inside them. Words like komorebi  the sunlight filtering through trees. Or neach gaoil someone who lives inside your heart. That was when I started loving life again, seeing the beauty in Allah's creation.

When I stayed home alone, I would spend hours watching the same Home on the Range DVD because we didn’t have cable TV. I learned every line by heart, but somehow I never got bored of it. When my mom came home tired from work, I would play Assassin’s Creed and little games on her Nokia phone while she rested nearby.

One day, I even started talking to a fly that circled around the lamp every afternoon. I SWEAR I became convinced it was the same fly every single day, so I started telling it my secrets like it was an old friend. I also used to collect stones from places I loved and keep them inside an old pickle jar. One day the jar broke and I cried like I had lost a tiny universe. And once, with my little flip Samsung phone, I even called the police just because I felt lonely and wanted someone to talk to.

Looking back now, I think loneliness made me strange in soft and beautiful ways. It taught me how to create magic from almost nothing, and how to find comfort in Al-Anis.

I miss being a child in the strangest way. I remember everything as if it were sacred:the cuts on my palms after falling on concrete, the smell of the backpack my mother bought me, playing on my Nintendo 3DS in school hallways, the colors of fruit at school lunches, my favorite janitor, shaking an egg because I thought that was enough to cook it, believing the moon followed me home, Disney movies glowing in dark rooms late at night.

Sometimes I feel like childhood doesn’t really disappear. It just turns into tiny details that live quietly inside us forever.

I shared this because Islam teaches us to have patience and gratitude

loneliness can be a heavy trial, but it also strips away the noise of the world and forces you to look at the sky, to notice the ants, the dust motes in the sun, and to realize you are never truly alone. If any of you are going through a lonely phase right now, please know that Allah sees you, He knows your heart, and He can turn your pain into something incredibly gentle don’t be afraid

Salam 🤍 Tomorrow I have a thyroid exam and I feel so anxious and fragile tonight. I just needed to say it somewhere safe.

Hello everyone, I’ll start by apologizing for the mess I’m about to write, but I need to get it out. Unfortunately, I feel so lost because I don't know what to do anymore and I'm asking for advice. I am 21 years old, but I am so tired. I don’t want to give up, but it hurts me so much to feel that I am a burden, to know that I will have to live with my mind for the rest of my life, to face more pain. I think that if I left this world, maybe I’d help the people I love because yes, maybe they would suffer at first, but then they’d be better off.

I was born to a mother and a father. When he found out I was a girl, he beat her to make her miscarry, saying I would grow up to be worthless just because I was female. He pushed her down the stairs while she was pregnant, locked her up, and beat her. she ran away and even slept in parks; she always loved me and I also love her so deep, she suffered so much because of me. After a few years of working to give me the best life, she sent me away to live safely with her mother in another country.

In my grandmother’s house lived my cousins, and one of them used to cross boundaries and touch me at night and scare me, saying he wanted me; I was only 5, and he was 19. When I told my grandmother, she grabbed me and told me to shut up, not to cause trouble, and not to tell my mother. ( my mom and I later cut all ties with her family because they’re truly weird and sick people.)

Then I returned to live with my mom and a man she had met when I was little. He was kind, like really kind, I thought he was my dad because my mom told me so.

 He always wanted me to eat, he was sweet to my mom, but one day he met bad people and started drinking every day; he changed and began arguing with my mom constantly. When I came home, I used to clean up his vomit with my own hands when he came home drunk, and at night I was so terrified that he would hurt my mother.

And when I started elementary school, I was bullied because I was considered an outsider. For example, one girl’s mother came to the cafeteria to tell me I was dirty and to stay away from her daughter. Because of this, I developed a deep fear that people would get angry at me just by looking at me in the face. Of course, I didn’t tell my mom. The bullying made me suffer so much as a kid, I was very gentle and used to daydream a lot. Then at school, I couldn’t even have any peace or respite. I loved unicorns and believed I was a fairy i was a really kind kid.during recess, I would talk to daisies every day for two hours; while the other kids played, I would sit in the grass and play with the flowers, I loved daisies.

My aunt, my mom’s sister, lived with us then. I was 6 or 7. One day, the worst thing in my life happened. My mom wasn’t home. It was just me and my aunt at home, and my "dad" came home late that night. At some point, someone knocked at the door and my aunt got up. I saw my "dad" come in and he tried to abuse my aunt right in front of me. I tried to run to the balcony to scream for help, but he grabbed me, slammed my head against the stairs, and pressed his whole body against mine, slapping me. I thought I was going to di because of the person I believed was my father, the same man whose vomit I used to clean up with my own hands. Somehow, my aunt and I managed to lock ourselves in the bathroom. the next morning, my father got on his knees and begged my aunt to forgive him, and she did. She never told my mom anything. these people are sick and ruined my life forever. 

 days later, I told my mom because I loved her so much I could never keep secrets from her. He said I was a liar, but my aunt defended me, and they fought. Still, my mom stayed with him for about 8 years before leaving him. 

Meanwhile, the harsh bullying at school continued for years: spit in my hair, eggs thrown at me, all the things that drive a person mad. My mom later remarried a man who once told me, “Good thing I’m not your father.” 

my mom had a baby with him: my little sister, whom I love with all my heart. But I feel like a burden, a reminder of my mom’s pain, the trace of her past mistakes. But yeah, even if my life was really a mess, I still love reading and movies. I adored Up, the animated film. It kept me dreaming, kept alive my one hope a beautiful family someday, a person who would love me gently, a home where I’d feel safe, where I wouldn’t have to hide.

And three years ago, I met someone. 

He lives very far away, in another country, there’s a 7-hour time difference. He‘s my first love, and I was terrified of being betrayed or abandoned. The distance didn’t help. I often got upset, though never to extremes. He was always kind and patient. After a year, we met in summer, and it was wonderful. I told him everything. I asked if he’d ever abandon me and he held me tight and said, “I’ll never abandon you, you won’t spend a single day alone“, he even met my mom and told her that he would have married me in a few years when he would be financially ready even if I don't think we need money to get married.

After that, I stopped being insecure. When we each returned to our countries, I became more tender but fragile, afraid to lose him, yet I never got angry again.

Then suddenly, he changed. He started to lose patience, even over small things, and treated me in a way I never expected. He said it was my fault, that I pushed him to the limit with how I treated him. He left me often, and one time I got so overwhelmed that I harmed myself with pills. He told me I was selfish, and ever since then, I’ve felt incredibly guilty. I just wanted a calm, loving family, that’s all. Because I remembered the day when my father, to stop my mother from leaving him, cut his wrists deeply in front of me when I was 7. I went into shock, and no one cared about me in that moment. My mom has always loved me, but no one ever paid attention to my mental health.

Now this man wants to leave me because he gets angry when I tell him something’s hurt me. He says I’m dramatic, that I play the victim, that I’m a liar, that I don't love him. But I love him deeply, and I don't know how to stop making mistakes. Maybe he sees problems where there are none, maybe because of my past. I’ve changed; I do trust him now. But now he wants to leave me, and I don’t know what to do. he told me that im not sorry at all, to leave him alone that im selfish and so many things even for small problems he completely disappear for days or weeks and im so scared because i really love him

I’m sorry in advance if this is messy or too long, but I really need advice and some outside perspective. I feel lost and I don’t know how to handle this anymore.

I (21F) come from a very traumatic childhood. I grew up with a lot of instability, fear, bullying, and experiences that made me very anxious about abandonment and rejection. I’ve also had moments in my life where I struggled deeply with my mental health. I’m working on myself and I’m trying to heal, but I still carry a lot of fear inside me.

Three years ago, I met my boyfriend (24M). He lives in another country, and we have a long-distance relationship with a 7-hour time difference. At first, he was incredibly kind, patient, and consistent. He really felt like the first safe person in my life. He even told me he would never abandon me, and that he wanted to marry me in the future when he was ready. We met in person last summer, and it felt very meaningful and serious for both of us.

After that, when we went back to long distance, things slowly started changing.

He began to get more distant and more easily irritated. Small things would trigger him, and sometimes he would leave conversations or block me for days. When I tried to express that something hurt me, he would tell me I’m “dramatic,” “playing the victim,” or that I’m “lying” or “creating problems.”

I admit that at the beginning of our relationship I was insecure and sometimes anxious, especially because of my past. I could get jealous or overwhelmed, and I know that wasn’t always healthy. But I have genuinely worked on myself and changed a lot. I’ve tried to become calmer, more trusting, and less reactive.

Now, even when I try to communicate gently or simply ask for reassurance, it often feels like it turns into conflict. He says I push him too much or drain him emotionally. Recently, after I expressed concern about something, he stopped talking to me completely and has not spoken to me for weeks.

I love him deeply. When he is good to me, he is very loving and gentle, and I truly believed we were building something real. But now I feel like I’m constantly walking on eggshells, afraid that anything I say will make him leave.

I also want to be honest: I’m scared I may have anxious attachment tendencies because of my past, and I think he might lean avoidant. It feels like the more I try to get close, the more he pulls away, and the more he pulls away, the more anxious I become.

I don’t want to lose him, but I also don’t know how to communicate in a way that doesn’t trigger him or make him shut down. I don’t know if this can be fixed, or if I’m just hurting myself by trying.

I would really appreciate any advice from people who have been in similar dynamics. How do you communicate with an avoidant partner without making them withdraw? And how do you protect your own emotional stability in the process?

When I was little, I was a very lonely child. Partly because I was foreign in a place that could be very cruel. I still remember one mother telling me I was “dirty” and to stay away from her daughter. I was so small, but those words stayed inside me for years.

I suffered so much that I started being afraid people would become angry just by looking at me.

But one day I read something that changed me forever: there is no hell for someone who has already lived through one.
So instead of becoming bitter, I built my own little world. And now I hold tightly only to the beautiful memories, the ones that made me survive. I write them down because I want them to exist forever.

My mother didn’t have much money when I was growing up, but one day she still bought me an expensive book. That book changed my life. It made me want to finish school, dream about distant places, and discover words that hold entire emotions inside them.

Words like komorebi — the sunlight filtering through trees.
Or neach gaoil — someone who lives inside your heart.

That was when I started loving life again.

When I stayed home alone, I would spend hours watching the same Home on the Range DVD because we didn’t have cable TV. I learned every line by heart, but somehow I never got bored of it. When my mom came home tired from work, I would play Assassin’s Creed and little games on her Nokia phone while she rested nearby.

One day, I even started talking to a fly that circled around the lamp every afternoon. I swear I became convinced it was the same fly every single day, so I started telling it my secrets like it was an old friend.

I also used to collect stones from places I loved and keep them inside an old pickle jar. One day the jar broke and I cried like I had lost a tiny universe.

And once, with my little flip Samsung phone, I even called the police just because I felt lonely and wanted someone to talk to.

Looking back now, I think loneliness made me strange in soft and beautiful ways. It taught me how to create magic from almost nothing.

I miss being a child in the strangest way.

I remember everything as if it were sacred:
the cuts on my palms after falling on concrete,
the smell of the backpack my mother bought me,
playing on my Nintendo 3DS in school hallways,
the colors of fruit at school lunches,
my favorite janitor,
shaking an egg because I thought that was enough to cook it,
believing the moon followed me home,
Disney movies glowing in dark rooms late at night.

Sometimes I feel like childhood doesn’t really disappear. It just turns into tiny details that live quietly inside us forever.

How do emotionally avoidant people experience love in a distance relationship?

I genuinely want to understand this better because sometimes when my partner pulls away, becomes cold, or disappears for days, I can’t tell if he needs space or if he secretly resents me.

What does emotional overwhelm feel like for avoidant people?

Hello everyone, I’ll start by apologizing for the mess I’m about to write, but I need to get it out. Unfortunately, I feel so lost because I don't know what to do anymore and I'm asking for advice and your du'as (prayers). I am 21 years old, but I am so tired. I don’t want to give up, but it hurts me so much to feel that I am a burden, to know that I will have to live with my mind for the rest of my life, to face more pain. I think that if I left this world, maybe I’d help the people I love because yes, maybe they would suffer at first, but then they’d be better off.

I was born to a mother and a father. When he found out I was a girl, he beat her to make her miscarry, saying I would grow up to be worthless just because I was female. He pushed her down the stairs while she was pregnant, locked her up, and beat her. By Allah's mercy, she ran away and even slept in parks; she always loved me and I also love her so deep, she suffered so much because of me. After a few years of working to give me the best life, she sent me away to live safely with her mother in another country.

In my grandmother’s house lived my cousins, and one of them used to cross boundaries and touch me at night and scare me, saying he wanted me; I was only 5, and he was 19. When I told my grandmother, she grabbed me and told me to shut up, not to cause trouble, and not to tell my mother. (Alhamdulillah, my mom and I later cut all ties with her family because they’re truly weird and sick people.)

Then I returned to live with my mom and a man she had met when I was little. He was kind, like really kind, I thought he was my dad because my mom told me so.

 He always wanted me to eat, he was sweet to my mom, but one day he met bad people and started drinking every day; he changed and began arguing with my mom constantly. When I came home, I used to clean up his vomit with my own hands when he came home drunk, and at night I was so terrified that he would hurt my mother.

And when I started elementary school, I was bullied because I was considered an outsider. For example, one girl’s mother came to the cafeteria to tell me I was dirty and to stay away from her daughter. Because of this, I developed a deep fear that people would get angry at me just by looking at me in the face. Of course, I didn’t tell my mom. The bullying made me suffer so much as a kid, I was very gentle and used to daydream a lot. Then at school, I couldn’t even have any peace or respite. I loved unicorns and believed I was a fairy i was a really kind kid.during recess, I would talk to daisies every day for two hours; while the other kids played, I would sit in the grass and play with the flowers, I loved daisies.

My aunt, my mom’s sister, lived with us then. I was 6 or 7. One day, the worst thing in my life happened. My mom wasn’t home. It was just me and my aunt at home, and my "dad" came home late that night. At some point, someone knocked at the door and my aunt got up. I saw my "dad" come in and he tried to abuse my aunt right in front of me. I tried to run to the balcony to scream for help, but he grabbed me, slammed my head against the stairs, and pressed his whole body against mine, slapping me. I thought I was going to die because of the person I believed was my father, the same man whose vomit I used to clean up with my own hands. Somehow, my aunt and I managed to lock ourselves in the bathroom. the next morning, my father got on his knees and begged my aunt to forgive him, and she did. She never told my mom anything. these people are sick and ruined my life forever. 

 days later, I told my mom because I loved her so much I could never keep secrets from her. He said I was a liar, but my aunt defended me, and they fought. Still, my mom stayed with him for about 8 years before leaving him. 

Meanwhile, the harsh bullying at school continued for years: spit in my hair, eggs thrown at me, all the things that drive a person mad. My mom later remarried a man who once told me, “Good thing I’m not your father.” 

my mom had a baby with him: my little sister, whom I love with all my heart. But I feel like a burden, a reminder of my mom’s pain, the trace of her past mistakes. But yeah, even if my life was really a mess, I still love reading and movies. I adored Up, the animated film. It kept me dreaming, kept alive my one hope and prayer to Allah: to have a beautiful, halal family someday, a person who would love me gently, a home where I’d feel safe, where I wouldn’t have to hide.

And three years ago, I met someone. 

He lives very far away, in another country, there’s a 7-hour time difference. He‘s my first love, and I was terrified of being betrayed or abandoned. The distance didn’t help. I often got upset, though never to extremes. He was always kind and patient. After a year, we met in summer, and it was wonderful. I told him everything. I asked if he’d ever abandon me and he held me tight and said, “I’ll never abandon you, you won’t spend a single day alone“, he even met my mom and told her that he would have married me in a few years when he would be financially ready even if I don't think we need money to get married and have a nikkah.

I’m religious, and I believe deeply in Allah and in love. I’ve always loved the way Allah comforts the faithful, and I had promised my love would be for the man I’d marry. After that, I stopped being insecure. When we each returned to our countries, I became more tender but fragile, afraid to lose him, yet I never got angry again.

Then suddenly, he changed. He started to lose patience, even over small things, and treated me in a way I never expected. He said it was my fault, that I pushed him to the limit with how I treated him. He left me often, and one time I got so overwhelmed that I harmed myself with pills. He told me I was selfish, and ever since then, I’ve felt incredibly guilty. I just wanted a calm, loving family, that’s all. Because I remembered the day when my father, to stop my mother from leaving him, cut his wrists deeply in front of me when I was 7. I went into shock, and no one cared about me in that moment. My mom has always loved me, but no one ever paid attention to my mental health.

Now this man wants to leave me because he gets angry when I tell him something’s hurt me. He says I’m dramatic, that I play the victim, that I’m a liar, that I don't love him. But I love him deeply, and I don't know how to stop making mistakes. Maybe he sees problems where there are none, maybe because of my past. I’ve changed; I do trust him now. But now he wants to leave me, and I don’t know what to do. I pray to Allah constantly, but often I am so scared that he doesn't love me anymore. I just ask Allah for peace.

This is my first time posting on Reddit and honestly I feel a little embarrassed because I keep writing so many posts 😭 but I think I’m just really emotional and happy to finally have a space where someone might read my thoughts and understand me a little.

Today, after so many painful days, something really beautiful happened to me and I wanted to share it with other Muslim girls because my heart feels so full of gratitude to Allah.

When I was a child in elementary school, I was the only foreign girl and the only Muslim girl in my class. I was treated very differently. One girl’s mother even told me I was “dirty” and to stay away from her daughter. I was so little, and it hurt me so deeply that I started hiding myself because I became scared people would get angry just from looking at me. I genuinely started feeling physically dirty.

But there was one girl in my class who was always incredibly kind to me. She always included me, always treated me normally, and even used to beg her mom to bring me to every birthday party because her mom had a car. For about five years, her mother always picked me up so I could be included with everyone else. I never forgot that kindness.

Today, by complete coincidence and Allah’s will, I met her again after around nine years. I haven’t seen her since middle school. My aunt happens to live near one of her relatives, and somehow we saw each other and started talking again.

And the sweetest thing is that after all these years, I still remember her favorite doll and her favorite cartoons.

We planned to meet again on Thursday and I’m genuinely so excited 😭 I even want to buy her one of those snow globes that sparkle when you shake them, because when I was around seven years old she gifted me one, and I still have it after all these years.

I don’t know… today my heart just feels very soft. Sometimes one small act of kindness can stay inside someone forever.

Alhamdulillah for kind people. May Allah reward every person who makes others feel included and safe, especially when they are children. 🤍

When I was little, I was a very lonely child. Partly because I was foreign in a place that could be very cruel. I still remember one mother telling me I was “dirty” and to stay away from her daughter. I was so small, but those words stayed inside me for years.

I suffered so much that I started being afraid people would become angry just by looking at me.

But one day I read something that changed me forever: there is no hell for someone who has already lived through one.
So instead of becoming bitter, I built my own little world. And now I hold tightly only to the beautiful memories, the ones that made me survive. I write them down because I want them to exist forever.

My mother didn’t have much money when I was growing up, but one day she still bought me an expensive book. That book changed my life. It made me want to finish school, dream about distant places, and discover words that hold entire emotions inside them.

Words like komorebi — the sunlight filtering through trees.
Or neach gaoil — someone who lives inside your heart.

That was when I started loving life again.

When I stayed home alone, I would spend hours watching the same Home on the Range DVD because we didn’t have cable TV. I learned every line by heart, but somehow I never got bored of it. When my mom came home tired from work, I would play Assassin’s Creed and little games on her Nokia phone while she rested nearby.

One day, I even started talking to a fly that circled around the lamp every afternoon. I swear I became convinced it was the same fly every single day, so I started telling it my secrets like it was an old friend.

I also used to collect stones from places I loved and keep them inside an old pickle jar. One day the jar broke and I cried like I had lost a tiny universe.

And once, with my little flip Samsung phone, I even called the police just because I felt lonely and wanted someone to talk to.

Looking back now, I think loneliness made me strange in soft and beautiful ways. It taught me how to create magic from almost nothing.

This is my first time posting on Reddit and honestly I feel a little embarrassed because I keep writing so many posts 😭 but I think I’m just really emotional and happy to finally have a space where someone might read my thoughts and understand me a little.

Today, after so many painful days, something really beautiful happened to me and I wanted to share it with other Muslim girls because my heart feels so full of gratitude to Allah.

When I was a child in elementary school, I was the only foreign girl and the only Muslim girl in my class. I was treated very differently. One girl’s mother even told me I was “dirty” and to stay away from her daughter. I was so little, and it hurt me so deeply that I started hiding myself because I became scared people would get angry just from looking at me. I genuinely started feeling physically dirty.

But there was one girl in my class who was always incredibly kind to me. She always included me, always treated me normally, and even used to beg her mom to bring me to every birthday party because her mom had a car. For about five years, her mother always picked me up so I could be included with everyone else. I never forgot that kindness.

Today, by complete coincidence and Allah’s will, I met her again after around nine years. I haven’t seen her since middle school. My aunt happens to live near one of her relatives, and somehow we saw each other and started talking again.

And the sweetest thing is that after all these years, I still remember her favorite doll and her favorite cartoons.

We planned to meet again on Thursday and I’m genuinely so excited 😭 I even want to buy her one of those snow globes that sparkle when you shake them, because when I was around seven years old she gifted me one, and I still have it after all these years.

I don’t know… today my heart just feels very soft. Sometimes one small act of kindness can stay inside someone forever.

Alhamdulillah for kind people. May Allah reward every person who makes others feel included and safe, especially when they are children. 🤍

Hello everyone, I’ll start by apologizing for the mess I’m about to write, but I need to get it out. Unfortunately, I feel so lost because I don't know what to do anymore and I'm asking for advice and your du'as (prayers). I am 21 years old, but I am so tired. I don’t want to give up, but it hurts me so much to feel that I am a burden, to know that I will have to live with my mind for the rest of my life, to face more pain. I think that if I left this world, maybe I’d help the people I love because yes, maybe they would suffer at first, but then they’d be better off.

I was born to a mother and a father. When he found out I was a girl, he beat her to make her miscarry, saying I would grow up to be worthless just because I was female. He pushed her down the stairs while she was pregnant, locked her up, and beat her. By Allah's mercy, she ran away and even slept in parks; she always loved me and I also love her so deep, she suffered so much because of me. After a few years of working to give me the best life, she sent me away to live safely with her mother in another country.

In my grandmother’s house lived my cousins, and one of them used to cross boundaries and touch me at night and scare me, saying he wanted me; I was only 5, and he was 19. When I told my grandmother, she grabbed me and told me to shut up, not to cause trouble, and not to tell my mother. (Alhamdulillah, my mom and I later cut all ties with her family because they’re truly weird and sick people.)

Then I returned to live with my mom and a man she had met when I was little. He was kind, like really kind, I thought he was my dad because my mom told me so.

 He always wanted me to eat, he was sweet to my mom, but one day he met bad people and started drinking every day; he changed and began arguing with my mom constantly. When I came home, I used to clean up his vomit with my own hands when he came home drunk, and at night I was so terrified that he would hurt my mother.

And when I started elementary school, I was bullied because I was considered an outsider. For example, one girl’s mother came to the cafeteria to tell me I was dirty and to stay away from her daughter. Because of this, I developed a deep fear that people would get angry at me just by looking at me in the face. Of course, I didn’t tell my mom. The bullying made me suffer so much as a kid, I was very gentle and used to daydream a lot. Then at school, I couldn’t even have any peace or respite. I loved unicorns and believed I was a fairy i was a really kind kid.during recess, I would talk to daisies every day for two hours; while the other kids played, I would sit in the grass and play with the flowers, I loved daisies.

My aunt, my mom’s sister, lived with us then. I was 6 or 7. One day, the worst thing in my life happened. My mom wasn’t home. It was just me and my aunt at home, and my "dad" came home late that night. At some point, someone knocked at the door and my aunt got up. I saw my "dad" come in and he tried to abuse my aunt right in front of me. I tried to run to the balcony to scream for help, but he grabbed me, slammed my head against the stairs, and pressed his whole body against mine, slapping me. I thought I was going to die because of the person I believed was my father, the same man whose vomit I used to clean up with my own hands. Somehow, my aunt and I managed to lock ourselves in the bathroom. the next morning, my father got on his knees and begged my aunt to forgive him, and she did. She never told my mom anything. these people are sick and ruined my life forever. 

 days later, I told my mom because I loved her so much I could never keep secrets from her. He said I was a liar, but my aunt defended me, and they fought. Still, my mom stayed with him for about 8 years before leaving him. 

Meanwhile, the harsh bullying at school continued for years: spit in my hair, eggs thrown at me, all the things that drive a person mad. My mom later remarried a man who once told me, “Good thing I’m not your father.” 

my mom had a baby with him: my little sister, whom I love with all my heart. But I feel like a burden, a reminder of my mom’s pain, the trace of her past mistakes. But yeah, even if my life was really a mess, I still love reading and movies. I adored Up, the animated film. It kept me dreaming, kept alive my one hope and prayer to Allah: to have a beautiful, halal family someday, a person who would love me gently, a home where I’d feel safe, where I wouldn’t have to hide.

And three years ago, I met someone. 

He lives very far away, in another country, there’s a 7-hour time difference. He‘s my first love, and I was terrified of being betrayed or abandoned. The distance didn’t help. I often got upset, though never to extremes. He was always kind and patient. After a year, we met in summer, and it was wonderful. I told him everything. I asked if he’d ever abandon me and he held me tight and said, “I’ll never abandon you, you won’t spend a single day alone“, he even met my mom and told her that he would have married me in a few years when he would be financially ready even if I don't think we need money to get married and have a nikkah.

I’m religious, and I believe deeply in Allah and in love. I’ve always loved the way Allah comforts the faithful, and I had promised my love would be for the man I’d marry. After that, I stopped being insecure. When we each returned to our countries, I became more tender but fragile, afraid to lose him, yet I never got angry again.

Then suddenly, he changed. He started to lose patience, even over small things, and treated me in a way I never expected. He said it was my fault, that I pushed him to the limit with how I treated him. He left me often, and one time I got so overwhelmed that I harmed myself with pills. He told me I was selfish, and ever since then, I’ve felt incredibly guilty. I just wanted a calm, loving family, that’s all. Because I remembered the day when my father, to stop my mother from leaving him, cut his wrists deeply in front of me when I was 7. I went into shock, and no one cared about me in that moment. My mom has always loved me, but no one ever paid attention to my mental health.

Now this man wants to leave me because he gets angry when I tell him something’s hurt me. He says I’m dramatic, that I play the victim, that I’m a liar, that I don't love him. But I love him deeply, and I don't know how to stop making mistakes. Maybe he sees problems where there are none, maybe because of my past. I’ve changed; I do trust him now. But now he wants to leave me, and I don’t know what to do. I pray to Allah constantly, but often I am so scared that he doesn't love me anymore. I just ask Allah for peace.

My boyfriend and I are in a long-distance relationship (Canada/Italy) and lately I’ve been struggling to understand his avoidant behavior.

At the beginning of the relationship he was very affectionate, emotionally open and reassuring. We used to spend hours talking every day, he was patient with me and made me feel genuinely loved and safe. Over time, after a lot of stress in his personal life and family issues, he slowly became more distant and emotionally unavailable.

I’ll admit that earlier in the relationship I was more anxious and insecure because of my past and fear of abandonment, especially with the distance involved. But I worked hard on myself, became calmer, more trusting and less reactive. I stopped trying to control things and genuinely tried to create a peaceful relationship.

Still, now it feels like even small conversations can overwhelm him. If I express hurt or confusion, he often thinks I’m attacking him, creating problems or being dramatic. Sometimes he pulls away for days, becomes cold, or says hurtful things even though I know deep down he’s not an evil person and has his own unresolved pain.

I really love him and I’m trying to understand avoidant attachment better instead of simply blaming him.

So I wanted to ask people with avoidant attachment (or people who have experience with avoidant partners):

• What usually makes you emotionally shut down in relationships?
• How can someone communicate hurt without making you feel pressured or trapped?
• Does giving space actually help, or can it increase emotional distance?
• Can avoidants still deeply love someone while acting cold or detached?
• Is it possible for an avoidant person to reconnect after withdrawing for weeks?

I’m not trying to attack him. I just want to understand this dynamic in a healthier and more compassionate way.