"Hello best friend!"

Scribbled on the first line,

your name,

carried in my heart,

and written on every page.

I have gotten used to invisible hands.

They held my gaze, whispered to me.

Like a phantom lover, they mesmerized me.

It has only been a short time since they touched me,

And yet I am certain I can feel them now.

I do not want to—I do.

It often needs a trigger warning, yet it happens every day. Often in homes, behind closed doors, sibling to sibling is the most common method - as heart breaking as that is to hear, it’s completely true. I suffered more than once with being victimised. But not at home, at school. A close school friend of mine, let’s call her Lara - for data protection reasons, abused me.

Do you know what it was/is to be in love? It was that spot in the woods by the park that is always filled with sunlight. The spot with the fairy garden that I took them to before they asked me to date them, like really date them. It was warmth and soup broth, it was a bath in some ways but not others. It is straining my eyes because I’m trying to peer into a wolf’s den or peering out of a cave and not straining my eyes because it’s night already. It is feeling like I was slapped in the face, and then wishing I had actually been slapped in the face because physical wounds are tangible. It is sobbing so hard I shake in my parked car the day after, before work, alone.

This Modern Struggle Magazine had the absolute privilege of speaking with artist Aleena Sharif and sharing her inspirational artwork.

She shares her artistic journey, her creative process, and how the power of painting the nude female form helps to promote body confidence and self-love for herself and other women.

Thank you so much to Aleena for creating representative pieces and a safe space to share nude paintings.

When I was in my 20s, I used to dislike the idea of reaching 30. I always associated being 30 with being old (I am sorry to anyone I have hurt by saying this!)

However, now that I am in my 30s, as much as I wish I were in my 20s, I do think there is a lot of power in this new decade of my life. When I was 28-29 years old, I used to have conversations with people who were already in their 30s about how I should approach this new phase of my life.

A few things I was told are that the 30s are the most beautiful years of a woman’s life: she is confident, unapologetic, and daring.

Holidays, for me, consist of finding excuses.

An example of this is at a Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner, when I inevitably get restless from sitting at the table with my family, and start offering to take people’s dirty dishes to the kitchen for a reason to move around. This is met with a yes or a no and usually a genuine ‘thank you’, my real motive concealed under the guise of being considerate. A less polite excuse I utilize is going to the bathroom for ten minutes so I have a break from socializing and conversation. While it is tedious to be constantly looking for these ‘outs’, I find that they are the only way to preserve my sanity.

Holidays are, in short, a lot.

Never in a million years did I think I would be a single dad.

As my first Christmas co-parenting approaches, I can’t help thinking that this isn’t how I imagined my life to be, how things don’t always turn out the way you expect when you start a family.

We are brought up with the notion that it’s always better for children to be part of the traditional family with both parents than each alone. Because it was imprinted into me that coming from a broken home was so difficult for children growing up, I have personally really struggled with the feeling that I have failed my daughter because her mom and I are no longer together.

Sometimes I think of grief like an old woollen jumper. It’s the knitwear you fold at the bottom of your drawer, only getting it out on the coldest of days or in the very midst of winter.  

Sometimes you only wear it on Christmas day, or on a special date that no one else celebrates.

Once it’s enveloped you, you fold it away again, smoothing down the fabric with your fingers in a private ritual, like the most sacred of things. 

Following the successful launch of her third published poetry book, Sins & Sunflowers: Second Edition, we were thrilled to speak with poet and author Emma-Jane Barlow about her poetry inspiration, writing process, advice for up-and-coming poets, and how poetry has helped her express her emotions and speak up to help others with autism.

Exposing her vulnerability as she pens the tempestuous journey of loss and love, Emma-Jane explores the vicissitude of overcoming her first heartbreak, dating, and falling in love with someone new. Through the symbolism of a sunflower with canary wings, she writes about learning to love herself as she navigates new beginnings and finds her voice again. In this second and more visceral edition of Sins & Sunflowers, she digs even deeper into the trauma and tribulations of the healing journey and how believing in your own light can truly set a spirit free.

“And you’re listening to that song, and that drive with the people who you love most in this world. And in this moment, I swear, we are infinite.”

- Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower

I have always loved that one scene in The Perks of Being a Wallflower. You know, the one with the back of the car, Sam and “Heroes” by David Bowie. Or, if you remember, the one with the back of the car, Charlie and “Heroes” by David Bowie. Actually, I like the second one better, because you know at this point in the movie how much the character has gone through. You know how much he has grown, and that the freedom he feels is hard fought. It’s that one that makes me cry, that gives me hope, that makes me a little sad.

Many believe that as soon as you have children, that’s it, you have to give up all the fun things that you enjoyed doing before.

I adore my family, friends and having lots of social time. However, when these little humans come along who want and need you at every grasping moment, it can feel like the days of being social are over.

What people forget is that being away from your children is super important, not only for them to grow and become more independent, but also for your own mental health!

As I grew up my emotions evolved, as well as the way I felt about them. Even though I was well acquainted with my multitudes, I started to see that to a degree, they set me apart, and not in a way I liked. I saw how my tears sometimes scared people around me, and how my excitement was at times overwhelming. Simply put, I became afraid of being too much.

However, the reality of being by my standards “too much” became a lot less fun when I got diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder, Anxiety, Autism Spectrum Disorder, and Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. It was all of a sudden too real. I was no longer “Lanacore” and “Girl, Interruptedesque” - I was mentally ill.

When Whitney Adebayo and Lochan Nowacki made it to the last two couples alongside Jess Harding and Sammy Root in Love Island’s season 10 finale on Monday night, fans were convinced this would be the day that we would see a dark-skinned black woman win the series.

But then, this is the UK after all, so maybe we should have seen it coming…

A few weeks ago I turned 29, the pivotal last year of my 20s.

Being in your 20s/30s is a weird time. It’s a transitional period when suddenly you’re expected to know everything that you want to do with your years, whether that’s in terms of career, getting a house, getting married, or having children. But it’s also supposed to be the best time of your life, with the free abandon to enjoy it as much as you can.

The struggle is real… when you’re the sad girl whose dad died

Season 4 of Mindy Kaling’s hit Netflix teen comedy Never Have I Ever hit our screens today, for the final time. Over the last four seasons we have watched high schooler Devi navigate crushes, hookups, friendships and studies as she makes her way towards graduation and the ending of the show. Never Have I Ever is funny, outlandish, and oozes with Kaling’s notorious wit and charm.

But as a 29-year-old, the thing that resonates with me most about the show is the unbelievably accurate depiction of what it’s like to lose a parent when you’re a teenager.

It’s that time of the year to receive the dreaded ‘Do you want to opt out of Father’s Day?’ emails.

While it’s great that companies are being more sensitive to their customers and subscriber lists, sadly you can’t avoid this holiday everywhere you go.

As someone whose dad has passed away, I always feel like this holiday is something I can’t take part in and is something to just avoid completely.

But just because he’s gone, doesn’t mean I can’t talk about him.

Love Island returns to our screens tonight for another sizzling summer, for the second time in under six months.

Yet with dwindling viewership, calls out for toxic behaviour and a constant drove of identical influencers being manufactured, will this be a long hot summer of loyalty or lost viewership?