Mariyam Mohamed

Lately, I have been feeling butterflies in my stomach. Sometimes my palms become sweaty, my heart beats a little faster, and my body feels as though it is preparing for something important. As someone who coaches individuals on emotional regulation, trains leaders on the autonomic nervous system, studies organisational psychology, and has a deep passion for neuroscience, I know exactly what is happening inside my body. Yet knowing what is happening does not stop me from experiencing it. Instead of calling it anxiety, I have started calling it my growth phase , because every time these sensations appear, they seem to arrive just before I step into something that will help me grow. To help me understand these moments with more compassion, I gave my inner protective voice a name: Sakeena . I chose this name because I have always been inspired by the beautiful Arabic word Sakīnah (سَكِينَة), which in Islam refers to the tranquillity and peace that Allah places in the hearts of believers....

For many years, I quietly wondered if something was wrong with me. There were moments when people around me seemed to understand conversations instantly, while I needed a little more time. Someone would make a vague statement, imply something without saying it directly, or expect me to "just know" what they meant. Often, I didn't. It made me question my intelligence, my social awareness, and even my ability to connect with others. Over time, however, I discovered something important: needing clear communication is not a weakness. It is simply a different way of processing information. Reading about language, cognition, and human behaviour helped me realize that my mind is not slower—it simply works differently. I naturally rely more on what is explicitly communicated than on assumptions or hidden meanings. While many people automatically fill in missing information using context, previous experiences, cultural expectations, or emotional cues, I prefer information that i...

  For as long as I can remember, I have been fascinated by one question:   Why are we on this earth?   Even as a child, I would spend hours in the garden watching ants. I know it may sound unusual, but I would even talk to them, trying to understand their nature. I wasn't just watching insects—I was observing behavior. I noticed how they greeted each other as they crossed paths, how they walked in orderly lines, how they worked together, and how they overcame obstacles without giving up. I remember one particular moment when I saw a single ant move ahead, almost as if it was checking whether the path was safe. It returned, and only then did the others follow. That simple observation stayed with me because it reminded me that even the smallest creatures seem to understand cooperation, responsibility, and purpose. As I grew older, I realized that these tiny creatures were teaching me something much bigger about life. Allah created every living being with a purpose. The ants...

Have you ever walked into a room and noticed that some people seem naturally drawn toward each other, even before a single meaningful conversation has taken place? As someone who spends a great deal of time observing human behavior, I often find myself scanning a room, not to judge people, but to understand the fascinating ways we communicate without words. One of the most intriguing observations is how attraction between people often begins long before they consciously acknowledge it. Sometimes two individuals may genuinely believe they are simply having a casual conversation, while their body language tells a completely different story. Their unconscious minds may already be engaged in a silent conversation that neither of them fully recognize. This is a topic that can be controversial because attraction, relationships, and gender dynamics are deeply personal subjects. Before going further, I want to make it clear that I am not writing this article to teach sexual attraction, flirtin...

  Today, as I started listening to Sheikh Bilal Assaad’s podcast like many other mornings, I did not expect the lesson to stay with me this deeply. Usually, I listen while going through my morning routine, reflecting quietly on life, people, emotions, and faith. However, today’s topic was something I could not ignore. It was about fairness, justice, oppression, and the promise that Allah is perfectly just even when the world is not. The lesson focused on how human beings understand justice compared to the justice of Allah. As I listened, I found myself reflecting deeply on Surah Ar-Rahman, the Day of Judgment, and the reality that many things in this dunya remain unresolved. Sometimes people are hurt unfairly. Sometimes good people suffer while wrongdoers continue comfortably. Sometimes truth is hidden, pain is dismissed, and silence becomes heavier than words. Human justice often feels incomplete because humans themselves are imperfect. Whereas Islam teaches something powerful: ...

Recently, I attended a school event that left a deep impact on me. It was more than just a competition. It was a reminder that leadership is not defined by age, title, or authority. Sometimes, the purest form of leadership comes from young people who are still learning about the world, yet already understand humanity better than many adults. The event brought together students between the ages of 11 and 16. Teams competed against one another to win trophies through activities that tested leadership, teamwork, participation, discipline, and effort. Like most school competitions, there was excitement, pressure, cheering, disappointment, and determination all happening at once. However, what stood out to me the most was not the trophies or the rankings. It was the culture that the students created among themselves. A Rare Kind of Team Spirit In many competitive environments today, people are taught that winning means standing above others. Competition often creates division where peopl...

This is something I have often reflected on throughout my career. I have met people from all walks of life. Some are incredibly wealthy, holding positions of influence and power. Others are struggling financially and trying their best to get through life one day at a time. Some have impressive qualifications and achievements, while others have never had the opportunity to pursue higher education. Yet despite these differences, I have noticed something that continues to intrigue me. Many people, regardless of their financial status, background, or success, carry wounds related to their self-worth. More importantly, many can recall specific individuals who made them feel less than, inferior, or somehow beneath others. It made me wonder: Why does this happen? Why can one comment, one interaction, or one relationship leave a person questioning their value? Why do some people walk confidently into any room while others immediately feel small? The answer is much deeper than confidence alone...

As I sit and observe life within our Maldivian society, I realize something deeply human: most emotional struggles are connected to relationships, expectations, attachment, and the need for emotional safety. Human beings are social creatures. We were never designed to survive emotionally alone. A child needs safety. A mother needs emotional support. A father needs respect and reassurance. Communities need connection to function. Even the strongest person still desires to feel seen, valued, understood, and emotionally safe. Yet many people live in emotional deprivation while being surrounded by people. That is the contradiction of modern life. We are connected digitally, but disconnected emotionally, and the body notices this. In the Maldives, people are closely connected through family, island communities, religion, friendships, and social circles. We grow up in environments where community matters deeply. Families are often the emotional center of life, and support systems shape ho...