Endless tears, sleepless nights, frustration, and extreme fatigue. This year, death seemed to linger everywhere: from my weekly chemo infusions to news from home, to the loss of loved ones. Every day felt like a battle.

This year, I lost my grandmother. And we, as Palestinians, collectively lost tens of thousands of loved ones—to a brutal, monstrous, and racist entity that thrives on inhumanity.

As an individual, I’ve faced my own battles with depression, anxiety, and a host of physical side effects. Migraines, nausea, hair loss, and skin infections have become routine. Add to that gum bleeding, asthma, brain fog, and high liver enzymes, and exhaustion barely begins to describe it.

This post isn’t about dwelling on pain; it’s about honoring our resilience. As Palestinians and Arabs, we persist—no matter the nature of the fight. We resist and endure.

Gratitude isn’t always easy to access, but it is essential. I am grateful for my body—a miraculous, complex system that, despite the trauma, pain, and toxins, keeps fighting. I am grateful for my support system, for my people who resist against all odds, especially the unknown future. I am grateful for my ancestors—for their wisdom, stories, and resilience. I am grateful for the land: fertile, steadfast, and healing. And finally, I am grateful for the freedom of thought. No matter the physical barriers, the mind and soul remain free.

In 2025, I know I may have less hair on my scalp than in 2024, but I carry hope in my heart for better circumstances. Here’s to persistence, to healing, and to more strength.