When a missile explodes above you, the air pressure changes. My thoughts have been punctuated by explosions for days now. As a privileged gal from the USA, it is hard to avoid stress over what is now normal in Syria. Things are so dire in this land that even fallen rocket bits represent opportunity; locals rush out to scrap them so they may feed their families.
What does this have to do with why I powered down and left Hive for nearly a year?
There is no easy explanation, so stick with me if you find yourself curious.
It seems to consistently surprise folks that as an American I cannot simply bring my spouse to the United States. Been hoping to marry an Eagle so you might sail on smoother seas? Forget about it— unless you're European or have a well-connected and rich catch. Good thing my husband married me for me, because I cannot offer him anything else.
My Syrian husband provides for me, and his home country is the only place we are both welcome. I suppose that breaks a lot of standards that media might present as if they are facts.
If you know
Until about a year ago things were very very very VERY bad here. I no longer have the faith in humanity to think anyone reading this will feel the weight of their own audacity if they fall into that category. I highlight this to continue my story— why did I leave Hive?
My Hubs built a bot called
As anyone who has something to offer here knows, there isn't money on Hive for developers who are not also witnesses. The DHF will pay for race cars, it will not pay for tools that can actually fight the issues here. So how does my husband make the money to upkeep the bot and also get paid a bit for his hundreds of hours of coding? He posts reports highlighting posts that have been curated using his bot. Plenty of projects do something similar, but they are whales, free from the critique of value that regular folks face here.
Due to this outlook, the reports began to get downvoted, which took away income that we needed to survive. The funding was cut without an alternative being provided, and so we had no choice but to power down to make ends meet. If you're familiar with me, you know how sad this made me. I never powered down, in fact I actively powered UP almost ALL of the HBD I received from my posts.
In general life has not been easy, and it seems that with large scale war looming on the horizon, things may get even more difficult. Many parts of me have broken over time. I found myself wanting to run from Hive when I was forced to hit the power down button. I found myself wanting to run from humanity. I wiped my account to the extent I could, deleted discord, and hid away for a long while.
Well, I'm here again. I'm ready to share should there be eyes to see it. I'll never feel quite the same about here or anywhere else again, however. I guess life does that to most of us in time. The magic of young adulthood dies violently in the arms of middle age.
I have plenty of reasons to smile still.
Well, if you've read thus far then I suppose I owe you an update...
I'm sitting in the sun drinking coffee with my love as I type. I'm every bit as obsessed with him as I was years ago, probably more to be honest. I look at him, and I know that I'd take every turn of the wild ride we've been on again in a heartbeat if I had to.
My Arabic is... objectively better?
I still create content; I've just stopped sharing it with the world this last year... I guess this is the first step in breaking my silent streak.
Aside from that I can't say many excessively positive things. Maybe that makes me happier. Life is gritty and life is hard; I have the best olive oil in the world in my kitchen though. Just like the glass jugs we fill after buying it by the kilo, it's all in what you do with the weight.