I took the long way home.
From a courtyard in Fes to fifteen acres in the Blue Ridge — every gate I walked through was teaching me the same thing. Here's the journey, honestly.
Where the questions began
I was born in Fes, a city of saints, scholars, and silence. I lost my father before I was old enough to remember him — barely a year and a month old. That early absence set me questioning young: about God, about grief, about what a life is even for. My faith was never handed to me as a doctrine — it grew as I lived.
Where the questions began
I was born in Fes, a city of saints, scholars, and silence. I lost my father before I was old enough to remember him — barely a year and a month old. That early absence set me questioning young: about God, about grief, about what a life is even for. My faith was never handed to me as a doctrine — it grew as I lived.
The leap across the ocean
I came to America with a suitcase and a hunger to build a life of my own.
The leap across the ocean
I came to America with a suitcase and a hunger to build a life of my own.
The mind, sharpened
I trained my head to its edge — engineering, logic, precision. I was good at it.
The mind, sharpened
I trained my head to its edge — engineering, logic, precision. I was good at it.
The climb begins
My first real steps up the corporate ladder.
The climb begins
My first real steps up the corporate ladder.
The first time I built something that gave back
I founded a nonprofit, craftingloveandhope.org, supporting girls across eight villages in Morocco with STEM education, and refugee women in the U.S. with livelihood skills. I made meditation cushions by hand, and their proceeds sent girls to school. In the summers, I took the girls on field trips into tech companies — this photo is one, at Microsoft's Casablanca office — so they could see the doors that were open to them. It was the first time I understood: my gifts were never meant to stay mine.
The first time I built something that gave back
I founded a nonprofit, craftingloveandhope.org, supporting girls across eight villages in Morocco with STEM education, and refugee women in the U.S. with livelihood skills. I made meditation cushions by hand, and their proceeds sent girls to school. In the summers, I took the girls on field trips into tech companies — this photo is one, at Microsoft's Casablanca office — so they could see the doors that were open to them. It was the first time I understood: my gifts were never meant to stay mine.
When the body first spoke
My first miscarriage. The beginning of a grief that would become, in time, my greatest teacher.
When the body first spoke
My first miscarriage. The beginning of a grief that would become, in time, my greatest teacher.
The truth beneath the grief
A second loss. And in the silence that followed, I finally heard it: my body wasn't failing me. It was trying to save me. It was the first time I understood what alignment actually means.
The truth beneath the grief
A second loss. And in the silence that followed, I finally heard it: my body wasn't failing me. It was trying to save me. It was the first time I understood what alignment actually means.
With my own hands
After two miscarriages, doctors offered me what they always offer — surgery and IVF. But something in me said no. A quiet voice whispered: you are your own healer. So I listened. I juiced celery every morning, meditated, and visualized light moving through my body. Within five weeks, a grapefruit-sized ovarian cyst had vanished. That was the moment I knew: the power to heal, transform, and become is already within us. My kitchen became my first medicine.
With my own hands
After two miscarriages, doctors offered me what they always offer — surgery and IVF. But something in me said no. A quiet voice whispered: you are your own healer. So I listened. I juiced celery every morning, meditated, and visualized light moving through my body. Within five weeks, a grapefruit-sized ovarian cyst had vanished. That was the moment I knew: the power to heal, transform, and become is already within us. My kitchen became my first medicine.
The miracle
After everything — a life, in my arms. My daughter, Muna. Proof that the body I'd been at war with had been on my side all along.
The miracle
After everything — a life, in my arms. My daughter, Muna. Proof that the body I'd been at war with had been on my side all along.
Following it to the land
Not away from a hollow — toward a truer life. To nature. To depth. So I followed it, bought fifteen acres in the Blue Ridge, and began to build with my own hands.
Following it to the land
Not away from a hollow — toward a truer life. To nature. To depth. So I followed it, bought fifteen acres in the Blue Ridge, and began to build with my own hands.
The temple
The land became Munaya — a place women travel to, to come home to themselves.
The temple
The land became Munaya — a place women travel to, to come home to themselves.
The vessel
The way to help women do what I once had to do alone: remember who they were before the world told them who to be.
The vessel
The way to help women do what I once had to do alone: remember who they were before the world told them who to be.
I help women find their way home.
Everything I learned the long, hard way — I've turned into a path you don't have to walk alone.
Take the 2-minute Soul Quiz →