Growing up I was always known as a “moody”, “sensitive” or a “stubborn child”. Coming from a Muslim Pakistani background, the understanding of mental health wasn’t always there, especially when I had loving parents who’d sent me to private school.
From the outside, it seemed like I had a great life and there was nothing to complain about. My uncles and aunts used to treat me like a difficult child who was ungrateful to God for all the blessings I had been given. I was known as the “black sheep” of the family, where I didn’t want the same things as other British Muslim girls – husband, kids and a good job.
So, I always felt a disconnect, like I didn’t belong, and I never had any peace of mind no matter what good things were happening. I defined myself by the labels I was given by others.
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