YOLO Isn’t the Only Way to Live Fully

collecting lessons instead of scars

Welcome, my dear sisters,

This is the first in a series of letters sharing the things I wish an elder sister had told me. It’s a gentle offering— written for the woman who is growing, evolving, and learning to care for herself with more intention. Through reflections on the body, mind, heart, and soul, these letters explore what it means to live softly yet with strength— to listen inwardly, to nurture your becoming, and to move through womanhood with awareness and grace.

Since I struggle with naming things, this series doesn’t yet have a title— but for now, let’s call it From Me, To You. If a name comes to mind, please share it in the comments; I’d love your help finding the perfect one.

Letter No. 1

My Darling,

In the world of YOLO and FOMO, it often feels like everyone’s in a race to experience everything— to have stories that sound like highlight reels. And maybe you’ve felt it too: that quiet pressure to do, to collect, to prove that you’re living. For many of us, especially when we’re young and free or still searching for our rhythm, and even if you don’t fall into these categories, we all still fantasise about the things we would do when the opportunity aligns.

I often come across stories about people reflecting on their lives, with a longer list of things they regret not doing compared to the things they regret having done. It’s easy to think that the moral of the story is to do as much as humanly possible. But here’s the true story — and I say this not from a place of having it all figured out, but from watching, listening, and growing. Life is not just about doing everything; sometimes it’s about understanding what’s truly yours to do. Because no matter how much we try, none of us can experience everything. And that’s okay.

When I was younger, I used to sit and listen to older people talk about their lives. This was because I was 9 years old, and as much as I might have wanted to, I just couldn’t do what they did yet. So, I’d listen. To their achievement stories, their losses, their tricks and shortcuts, as well as their hurdles, their fantasies and the dreams they were chasing. I would listen to it all. And in that listening, I realised something that changed how I see life: everyone, no matter how amazing their stories sound, also carries a list of regrets and lessons they’d rather not repeat.

And that’s when it clicked — you don’t have to touch every fire to know it burns. you can learn from the warmth and the scars of others, too.

I call it collecting lessons. It’s how I make sense of living— listening, observing, and quietly gathering wisdom from others’ journeys. It doesn’t mean being passive or fearful; it means being intentional. It means choosing to live with forbearance— to move with grace, to think before you leap (even as you leap with faith), and to act with calm courage instead of panic or pressure.

This is where objective truths about life come into play. These truths, regardless of how we feel about them, remain the law of the living. The ones that I do not shy away from are:

Number 1:
Life ends. Whether we acknowledge this truth or not, we all have a date of birth and a date of death.

Number 2:
There is no life devoid of challenges and hardship. Our stress points and pressures may differ; our tolerance and capability to handle these pains may also vary; however, everyone has their cross to bear, and they feel them just as deeply.

Number 3:
It is impossible to experience everything. The best you can hope for is to experience more of what you want and less of what you absolutely hate.

When you embrace these truths, something soft but powerful begins to happen—you realise there are numerous ways to achieve the same thing and live the same experiences. So, you stop rushing. You stop comparing. And you start curating a life that feels true to you.

This view on how to live empowers you by removing the desperation of the all-or-nothing mentality, and you become unshackled from the need for instant gratification. You learn to live in alignment— a gift that comes from knowing your values and living true to them (this is a conversation for another day). And it leaves you peaceful and grounded.

Yes, people might argue that this kind of living makes you too cautious. That listening too much or planning too carefully might keep you from acting. But what I’ve seen is the opposite— women who live like this are the most prepared (ask me about my first period story if you want an example of this in effect). These women may not rush, but they are ready. They recognise divine timing when it arrives. They act with clarity instead of chaos. And when they move, it’s with purpose, not panic. These women aren’t riddled with anxiety; rather, they find immense joy in every phase they exist in.

Word of the day: forbearance

In Islam, there’s a concept called Halim (I am personally attached to this philosophy because it is the root concept behind my name, Halima). Halim translates to forbearance (a word that is hardly in use today). Forbearance is the kind of patience that you exercise in action. It is about being deliberate, composed, and never taking action without proper evaluation. A patience that is not about endurance and tolerance, but instead taking guided action without being rushed.

Choose to be a woman of forbearance.

Meal of the day

I am in my luteal phase, which means my body is preparing to shed its uterine lining. As most women know, this is a demanding phase, or more accurately, the not-so-quiet before the storm. To prepare my body, I am making this Savoury Onion Beef Fried Rice plus extra greens to increase the nutrient density. With a side of native Hausa salad (because kuli kuli is my favourite way to eat nuts).

And finally, I will end the day with a chai—not a chai latte—just tea and wholesome spices, the kind that hug you from the inside..

Until next time, 
take care of your body, your mind, and your soul.
listen more than you rush.
and remember — you’re doing just fine.

with love,
Halima.