A mother isn’t the person who births you; it’s the person who rears you and shows you love.

If Aphrodite chills at home in Cyprus for most of the year, then Fez must be the goddess’s playground

This thing I am feeling, I’m almost certain, is the closest I’ll ever come to standing somewhere in between truth and reconciliation.

Paradise is a state of being, more than just the name of a suburb or a home.

Our identities are as fluid as our personal experiences are diverse.

Individually, every grain of sand brushing against my hands represents a story, an experience, and a block for me to build upon for the next generation.

This is what I know about my parents. They spent the next several years trying to forget each other, and me.