Dodging a Scam: A Life Lesson in Online Relationships

Hi everyone!

HAHAHAHAAHAHA

The world is so funny. Do you remember when I told you that I have a boyfriend? Well, surprise! It turns out he's a scammer.

What a bummer.

Well, if I'm going to be honest with you, ever since I declared my relationship with him, even though we only connected through WhatsApp, I sometimes had bad dreams about him. I don’t know, it feels like a “sign.” I even looked this up on Google to find out why I’m having these kinds of dreams. Some results showed that it could be related to events in real life or a sign of anxiety. I mean, it makes sense because I had mentioned that I wasn’t sure about the relationship from the beginning. So, I thought maybe I was just overthinking or being too sensitive.

Throughout our conversations, I didn’t feel like he was that suspicious, but we barely communicated with each other. He always texted me, asking how my day was and letting me know when he arrived and got home. He never missed once. But I did feel annoyed when I had to wait for him to reply, and our last conversation didn’t continue. He always started fresh, with an opening, but never a proper closing. That was the most obvious thing I didn’t like about texting him. Other than that, everything seemed fine.

But my suspicions began when he needed to transfer to another country. He, who rarely sent long messages, suddenly started to send one. I thought I liked it better, but somehow, it felt off. He also sent me a video of him at the airport, indicating that he had flown to another country. Not long after his arrival, he suddenly asked for my help. He claimed that the country he was in had experienced an earthquake, which caused poor internet, and it affected his ability to make an order for his work materials. He sent the link to the supplier's website and asked for my help with ordering the work materials. I did, thinking that was it, but I guess I was wrong. He then told me that he had the same issue accessing his bank and asked me to help him transfer money to the supplier through a bank link he sent.

I hesitated for a second. This felt wrong. We barely knew each other, and he wanted me to access his bank account? That's really odd. I don’t even share my bank details with my siblings.

So, I started looking up the website he sent me, and I was really suspicious about it. I googled the situation, and the results showed that it was a sign of a scam or money laundering scheme. After researching, I rejected his request and told him that I wouldn’t help him with the transaction because, logically, any real person with a real banking problem, who couldn’t log into their own account, would contact the bank to resolve the issue. They wouldn’t go through someone else, especially someone they only knew online and never in real life. Funnily enough, he said that I didn’t love him enough to help him when he needed me the most. I laughed when I read the word “love.” Love? I guess I’m indeed not "in love" enough to help him get that money! - BLOCKED ALL THE WAY.

Alhamdulillah, it seems that I managed to dodge a huge bullet that could have led me into something really serious and bad. How dare he try to make me an accomplice in money laundering? If I had gone through with it, I might’ve been arrested and gone to jail for indirectly helping with a crime. I can’t imagine how negatively this could have affected my life. It’s really awful to think about what could’ve happened if I were that naïve!

To be honest, I always had this feeling of uncertainty about him. So today, for the first time, I decided to pray to Allah SWT for guidance, asking Him to make a way if he is the right one for me, and to distance us if he isn’t. Alhamdulillah, my prayer seems to have been answered. I’m really grateful for the guidance and protection.

I guess, all this time, I didn’t have a boyfriend—just a pen pal who was a romance scammer! HAHAHAAH

Anyway, I accept everything that’s happened. I'm glad that our relationship didn't last long, because if it had, it would’ve been a really disastrous situation for me. It’s indeed a life lesson, and I needed to be extra careful with online people, especially. Well, at least I have a good story to tell, right? I’ll definitely be more cautious from now on, but I also wanted to share my story in case it helps anyone else. Stay safe online, everyone!

From Fear to Empathy: My Mother's Story

Hey everyone! Happy Tuesday! In my recent post, I mentioned my mom, so today I wanted to share a special entry about her.

My mom is 62 years old this year. Alhamdulillah, Allah has blessed me with the chance to be with her. She is someone I deeply love and care for, but I sometimes struggle to express it. I think about her often, and talking about her brings a whirlwind of emotions—sadness, anger, happiness, and love.

When I was young, I was always scared of my mom. Her temper was unpredictable; she could be calm one moment and erupt the next. When she was angry, she'd bring up everything, from the current issue to things I'd done years ago. The only thing to do was stay quiet and busy myself with chores, hoping that would calm her down.

My mom always wanted her children to have good grades. As a slow learner, I struggled with this. Sometimes, especially during middle school, she'd hit me with a hanger when I brought home bad grades. Report card days were my worst nightmare.

The hitting stopped in high school, but the yelling continued. My mom remained fierce, and I was still scared of her, particularly when she was angry. This fear, combined with my desire to avoid her anger, led me to make some questionable choices. I learned to lie. I'd go to the mall with friends after school but tell her I was in an after-school activity. I even skipped class sometimes just because I felt like it. On report card days, I'd forge her signature. I hid most of my life problems from her because I knew she'd add them to her list of grievances and bring them up later. This made it impossible for me to ever truly share my thoughts and feelings with her.

I used to tell my friends, "My mom is a fierce person." That's why I still had a curfew, even at my age. That's why I didn't hang out with friends regularly and mostly stayed home. I had so many complaints about her. Her angry words really hurt me, and I sometimes cried, thinking I would never be good enough for her.

To be honest, I didn't like my mom when she acted that way, but I never hated her. Instead, I sometimes thought it would be better if I had never been born, that she would be happier that way. I even wondered if she regretted having us, because she often complained that we didn't make her as happy as other children made their parents. I felt like the ungrateful child.

As I grew older, so did she. I began to notice changes. She yelled less, and her voice, once so loud, softened. Her figure, once so robust, thinned, and her body, once full of energy, seemed weak. She couldn't walk far without getting tired, and her appetite decreased. She also suffered from frequent headaches and nausea. Her health was clearly declining.

I began to see beyond the facade she'd maintained for the sake of our family. Now, we can talk heart to heart. I can speak my mind, and so can she. I understand her situation better and am beginning to see the reasons behind her fierceness, her yelling, and her constant stories.

I feel sorry for her. She went through so much, all alone. She couldn't confide in anyone and endured everything silently. People judged her, but no one, including me, understood her situation. She hid it all so well.

She was so upset about my studies because she never had the chance to continue her own education. Seeing me squander the opportunities she never had made her sad. She felt I was wasting time, opportunities, and money. All she asked for were good grades, and I couldn't even give her that. The pressure she put on me wasn't just for her; it was for my own future. I also didn't realize that she was under pressure from my dad about our grades. She had to answer to him for our poor performance. That explains why she was so strict about report cards.

On top of everything, she was exhausted from doing all the housework. With six people in the house, it was difficult to keep things organized, especially since no one helped much. She felt more like a nanny than a mother.

The curfew, even for adult children, was because we were still living in her house. She didn't want us treating it like a hotel. She wanted us to respect her, not just as a mother, but as a homeowner. Also, as a mother of daughters, she worried about our safety at night.

Learning about everything she had to do, the reputation she had to maintain, the heavy responsibilities as a wife and mother—it's overwhelming to think about. She had a very limited social circle, her twin sister being her only close friend. She had no other outlets, so when she was frustrated, letting it all out was her only way to cope. I forgot that she was a first-time mother, too. She didn't have all the answers. She had her own thoughts, feelings, and judgments. She got tired and needed rest, just like anyone else. I'm ashamed that I only considered my own perspective and not hers.

I focused on the bad memories and forgot the good things. She always cooked for us, never forgot our allowances, and always tried her best to give us what we wanted, within her means. She always thought of us, secretly. All she wanted was the best for her children, a better life.

She seemed hard on the outside, but she's a soft-hearted woman doing her best for her family. She sacrificed her youth, her sleep, her time, her energy, and her money, hoping her family would reciprocate. All she wanted was for her hard work to be recognized, appreciated, and loved.

 Now that i know, I hope she could get the love and happiness that she deserves as I'm learning to express my love to her, helping her more and try to spend as much time with her as I can.

Dear Mama, 

You did your best with what you knew. You carried worlds on your shoulders and asked for nothing but our success. I see you now—the girl who dreamed of an education, the woman who hid her tears, the mother who loved fiercely in ways I couldn’t understand. Thank you. I’m here. Let’s heal together.

When Did I Become the Scolding Aunt?

Just a random post today. I was talking to my sister the other day about her kids and how they seem to dislike me compared to my other sibling. She finds it weird because, back in the day, most kids liked the younger me. I was like, “Huh… maybe it’s because I always scold your naughty kids, while others don’t.” That’s the only answer I could think of at the time.

A few days later, I was lying down, thinking about that conversation and wondering why I had changed. I don’t get angry easily, but I’ve found myself doing so more lately. There was one time I scolded my niece for licking a table at a restaurant. I was like, “Eww, no! Don’t do that, it’s dirty!!” She looked at me, but with these scared eyes. I was stunned for a second, thinking, I’m not mad at you; I’m mad at what you did, but I didn’t say anything. I just kept looking at her. She somehow reminded me of my younger days.

But why have I become like this? I’ve become more sensitive, and I’ve changed over time. That’s when I realized our different points of view might be the reason. When I was a kid, I always wondered why my mom always scolded me. I thought she didn’t understand me and was always complaining about things I did. My mom was a fierce person — or at least, that’s what I always told everyone. But it hit me.

Maybe my mom wasn’t naturally a fierce person. Maybe my siblings and I made her that way because of our uncontrollable, mischievous behavior. I've slowly come to understand her perspective. Spending time with kids really tests your patience and limits. They often don’t listen the first time. They may not care if you speak nicely. If they’re overly happy, they might not be aware of their surroundings. And they can become spoiled if given everything without learning any lessons. Not to mention, when combined with our own existing problems, it can be truly overwhelming, especially when the kids don’t want to cooperate.

For kids, everything is a learning process and a big playground. We always find ways to explore our creativity in unexpected places or with things we come across. We let impulsive thoughts take over. We’re only looking for fun, and that lack of awareness can give some adults a heart attack.

I get it now. The reason my younger self was more likeable to kids was that I was one of them. Now that I’ve grown up, my perspective has changed. I’m more focused on my surroundings and more alert to their behavior. I guess time has changed, and so have I.