Welcome to Reema Ayub's Writings

There are times when what appears to be affection is, in reality, nothing more than biological programming—disguised by sweet words, spiritual phrases, and intense attention. This is particularly evident when men display an unusual fixation on deeply personal aspects of your life, such as your menstrual cycle, your period products, or your emotional journey toward self-love. To understand the truth behind these behaviors, we must look beneath the surface. When a man takes excessive interest in your menstrual cycle—frequently asking about your premenstrual symptoms, closely observing your mood fluctuations, or even expressing an inappropriate curiosity about used sanitary products—it is not necessarily a sign of emotional intimacy or deep connection. More often, it reflects the unconscious mechanics of mating psychology. According to evolutionary psychology, human males are biologically predisposed to detect signs of fertility. Your cycle communicates essential information—not only abou...

It is 46°C outside—the kind of heat that makes tar melt and sanity evaporate. Inside poorly ventilated buildings, the temperature offers little relief. Yet, in this sweltering, unrelenting heat, the double standards of patriarchy remain astonishingly cool—insulated not by logic, but by centuries of gendered hypocrisy. Picture a typical workplace somewhere in the subcontinent during a blistering heatwave. Men comment freely on how unbearable the heat is, both outside and indoors. They shift away from their female colleagues, remarking, “Ladies have it easy,” as if discomfort were distributed by gender and not temperature. When a supervisor approaches, a male worker jokes, “Do pardah, the manager is coming,” as though modesty were a uniform women must don at a moment’s notice—like soldiers bracing for battle. But amid all this heat, a single question never gets asked: Why is modesty always a woman’s burden? Women, like men, are biological beings. We sweat. We overheat. We suffer rashes, ...

Festive occasions such as Eid and Christmas are culturally linked to celebration, joy, and communal abundance. However, for millions living below the poverty line, these days pass much like any other—marked not by festivity, but by endurance. The scent of food may waft through the air, but the kitchen remains quiet. Greetings may echo in the streets, but the home stays heavy with unmet needs. In Pakistan, as in many other low- and middle-income countries, poverty is not merely a lack of income. It is a deeply embedded psychosocial stressor that profoundly shapes mental health and emotional well-being. While official statistics offer insight into the scale of poverty, they often fail to capture the daily lived experiences of those navigating life on the margins. According to the latest national and international estimates, approximately 39 percent of Pakistan’s population currently lives below the poverty line. This figure has grown in the wake of rising inflation, economic instability,...

In the course of my clinical work, I have encountered countless individuals who carry a quiet and invisible weight—an emotional heaviness that follows them from one room to another, from one relationship to the next, and across the years despite countless attempts at new beginnings. Time after time, they find themselves circling back into familiar emotional traps, unable to escape a pattern they cannot fully name. More often than not, what binds them is unhealed trauma. One truth that has become inescapable in therapeutic observation is this: unresolved trauma does not remain static. It evolves, replicates, and draws further wounding into a person’s life—not because fate is cruel, but because the unconscious mind is deeply loyal to repetition. When we fail to bring our earliest wounds into conscious awareness, they begin to write the scripts of our adult relationships, influence the people we gravitate toward, and even determine the pain we repeatedly allow. For individuals living in t...

“No Pork, No Sex Education” — But No Protection Either By Reema Ayub I’ve seen it too many times. I’ve heard the silent cries behind proud fathers’ lectures. I’ve felt the tension in homes where daughters are raised with nothing but fear, shame, and warnings — but not knowledge. Especially in Pakistan, India, and Bangladesh, whether families live here or abroad, most parents seem to follow one strict formula: “No pork, and no sex education.” Yes, no pork is part of Islam. But I have a question — if I missed a Hadith, please show me — where does Islam say sex education is haram? Because here’s what I see in our society: girls growing up with no idea what virginity even means, no understanding of how manipulation works, and no tools to protect themselves from the wolves who walk around wearing the skin of temporary lovers. And when those girls lose their so-called “honor” in silence, in confusion, or in love — they’re not offered compassion, they’re not asked what happened, they’re simpl...