The Second Wednesday: How Writing Ritual Became My Monthly Anchor

I used to think that discipline meant forcing myself to write every single day, no matter what. That if I missed a day, I was failing. That real writers didn’t struggle with motivation or doubt.

Then I became a mother. Then I started juggling multiple projects. Then life happened in all the ways life happens, and I realized something important: discipline isn’t about perfection. It’s about showing up when you can and creating rituals that keep you tethered to your purpose.

That’s how my Writing Ritual was born, and over the years, it grew to where I started sharing it with others.

Every second Wednesday of the month, from 11 AM to 12 PM EST, writers from all over gather online for an hour. Not to critique manuscripts or workshop scenes. Just to breathe. To remember why we started this in the first place. To set intentions and remind ourselves that we’re not alone in this work.

And thanks to the Authors Guild, it’s completely free.

How It Started

In 2018, I became an Authors Guild ambassador when the organization launched its regional chapter initiative. The Authors Guild is the nation’s oldest and largest writing organization—they fight for copyright protections, provide legal support for contract reviews and disputes, and offer professional resources and community for writers across the country

The regional chapter program aimed to create supportive local communities for writers in cities like Detroit, Chicago, Cleveland, Philadelphia, and Seattle. As the Detroit ambassador, I wanted to create something that felt personal. Something that honored what I saw writers needing most: consistency, encouragement, and a space to just be.

One day, I was brainstorming with the Authors Guild’s Manager of Regional Chapters. I mentioned that I’d been running workshops focused on intention-setting and creative practice—rituals that helped writers reconnect with their voice and vision.

She said, “Why don’t you turn it into a monthly online meeting?”

That conversation became Writing Ritual.

What Happens in Writing Ritual

Writing Ritual is an hour-long virtual gathering. We don’t workshop. We don’t critique. We focus on the practice of writing—the mindset, the discipline, the ritual of showing up even when it’s hard.

Each month, we explore themes like setting clear intentions for your writing, overcoming creative blocks, building sustainable habits, and honoring your voice when the world tells you to conform.

It’s a space to pause. To reflect. To ask yourself, Why am I doing this? What story am I trying to tell? What am I afraid of?

And to hear other writers ask the same questions.

Why This Matters to Me

Writing can be so isolating. You sit alone with your thoughts, your doubts, your ideas. You wonder if anyone will care about what you’re creating. You question whether you’re good enough, whether it’s worth it, whether you should keep going.

I’ve been there. I still go there sometimes.

But what I’ve learned over the years is that community changes everything. Not a community that judges or competes, but one that simply witnesses. That says, I see you. I’m here too. Keep going.

Over the years, I’ve watched writers join hesitantly—unsure if it’s “for them”—only to become regulars who protect this hour fiercely. They tell me it keeps them grounded. That it helps them remember their purpose when everything else feels chaotic.

One writer told me, “This hour every month brings me back to why I even started writing — it reminds me that my stories matter.”

That’s what I hoped for when we started.

My Own Struggle with Ritual

I’ll be honest. There have been months where I almost canceled Writing Ritual. Where I thought, I’m too busy. I have too much on my plate. Maybe people won’t notice if I skip this month.

But then I’d show up. And so would they. And I’d remember why I created this in the first place.

Because I need it too.

I need the reminder that writing isn’t just about productivity or publishing. It’s about staying connected to the part of myself that has something to say. The part that believes stories matter.

Writing Ritual has become my anchor. The one thing that, no matter what else is happening, reminds me to slow down and remember why I started this work.

If You’re Looking for This

If you’re a writer who feels scattered, overwhelmed, or disconnected from your purpose—Writing Ritual is for you.

If you’ve been meaning to start that project but keep putting it off—this is for you.

If you just want an hour each month where you’re not alone in this work—this is for you.

We meet every second Wednesday of the month from 11 AM to 12 PM EST. It’s free. You don’t have to be an Authors Guild member to attend, though I highly recommend joining if you’re serious about your writing career.

A Final Thought

For more than 20 years, I’ve shared my work through books, workshops, retreats, seminars, and personal consultations. I love helping writers and creatives develop their voice, strengthen their craft, and bring their unique vision into the world.

Writing Ritual is an extension of that mission—a space where writers can gather, set intentions, and support each other in this beautiful, challenging work we’ve chosen.

I hope you’ll join us.

To learn more about my work and offerings, visit weamnamou.com/services 

Weam

Returning to Sacred Ground: Remembering My Teacher Lynn Andrews

There are places that hold memory. Not just in photographs or stories, but in the land itself. In the soil, the air, the way the light falls at dusk.

This past fall, I returned to one of those places. Lynn Andrews’ home in Arizona.

Lynn was my teacher. The woman who helped me find my voice again when I thought I’d lost it forever.

Years ago, struggling with writer’s block, juggling motherhood and the weight of watching my birth country torn apart by war, I picked up her book Writing Spirit. One phone call to ask for literary advice turned into four years in her shamanic Mystery School, a journey that would transform everything. I’ve written about this experience in my four-part memoir series, Healing Wisdom for a Wounded World, because Lynn’s teachings didn’t just help me write again. They helped me live again.

Lynn passed away two years ago, but her legacy lives on. Her daughter, Vanessa, now carries forward her mother’s work, honoring the wisdom that has touched so many lives across the world.

The Teacher I Never Expected to Find

Lynn V. Andrews was a New York Times bestselling author who wrote 21 books chronicling her three decades of study with shaman healers on four continents. Her journey began in the 1970s when she traveled to northern Canada seeking a sacred marriage basket and encountered Agnes Whistling Elk and Ruby Plenty Chiefs, Native American healers who would become her teachers and change the course of her life.

What started as a quest for an artifact became a spiritual awakening, one she shared with the world through her Medicine Woman Series. In books like Medicine Woman, Jaguar Woman, and Star Woman, she chronicled her experiences with the Sisterhood of the Shields, 44 women healers from cultures across the globe, from Panama to Nepal to Australia.

For thousands of years, these women have practiced, guarded, and handed down sacred feminine teachings from shaman to apprentice, mother to daughter. The Sisterhood remained hidden, appointing Lynn as their public messenger.

When I read her books for the first time, I recognized something in them. A truth I’d been searching for without knowing it.

A School Without Walls

In 1993, Lynn founded what she called “The Way of the Wolf,” a four-year Mystery School without walls. She created this program so that people around the world could access these ancient teachings without leaving their homes, without uprooting their lives.

I was one of those students.

When I joined the Mystery School, I thought I was signing up to heal my writer’s block. I had no idea I was about to confront wounds I didn’t even know I carried, wounds from my childhood in Iraq, from the trauma of war, from trying to fit into a culture that didn’t fully understand where I came from.

The school taught me how to see energy. How to heal the blocks within myself. How to remember who I was beneath all the conditioning and fear.

Lynn used to say, “Everyone has indigenousness in them, not just Native Americans.” She believed that ancient wisdom lives in all of us, across every culture and continent. That we are all keepers of Earth and memory. As a Chaldean woman carrying 5,000 years of Mesopotamian heritage, her words gave me permission to honor my own ancestral roots, to see that my story, too, was sacred.

Under the Arizona Sky

When our group arrived at Lynn’s home this fall, I felt her presence everywhere. In the red rocks. In the vast Arizona sky. In the quiet spaces between words.

We gathered under the stars one of the nights. Lying on the earth, looking up at the endless expanse of sky, I felt something shift. The desert has a way of stripping everything unnecessary away. Out there, under those stars, there was no room for pretense. Only truth.

I thought about all the times Lynn had told us: “You are not separate from the Earth. You are her daughter.”

Lying there, I understood what she meant. The land was holding us. The way a mother holds her child.

Vanessa, Lynn’s daughter, now tends to this sacred space, shedding light on the work her mother began, keeping the teachings alive for those who seek them. Watching her honor her mother’s legacy reminded me of the responsibility we all carry to pass on what we’ve learned, whether through books, teachings, or simply the way we live our lives.

With Vanessa, Lynn’s Daughter, During Our Visit to Arizona

Honoring Her Legacy

I’m now creating a documentary about Lynn’s teachings called Indigenous Wisdom: Keepers of the Ancient Ways. Part of it will be filmed at her home, weaving together her voice, her legacy, and the global reach of her message.

Because Lynn’s work was never meant to stay in one place. It was meant to travel, like seeds on the wind, landing wherever hearts were ready to receive it.

The documentary will honor not just Lynn’s journey with Agnes Whistling Elk, Ruby Plenty Chiefs, and the other teachers she wrote about in books like Crystal Woman: Sisters of the Dreamtime and Windhorse Woman, but also the universal truth she taught: that sacred feminine wisdom exists in every culture. That we all carry ancestral knowledge. That healing ourselves heals the world.

What the Journey Taught Me

Visiting Lynn’s home again reminded me of something I often forget in the rush of daily life: sacred spaces hold us, even when we’re not physically there.

The teachings I received in her Mystery School didn’t end when I graduated. They live in me. In how I write. In how I parent. In how I show up in the world.

Over the years, I’ve learned that healing isn’t linear. That we return to the same lessons again and again, each time at a deeper level. That transformation isn’t about becoming someone new. It’s about remembering who we’ve always been.

Standing in the place where Lynn lived, where she prayed, where she gathered women from around the world to remember their power, I felt the full weight of that gift.

For Those Who Are Seeking

If you’re curious about Lynn’s teachings, I encourage you to explore her work. Her books are available both in print and as ebooks, and her school continues to welcome new students.

There are also gatherings held throughout the year, like the Spring Gathering in Michigan, where students and apprentices come together to continue the work.

For me, writing my memoir series Healing Wisdom for a Wounded World was my way of honoring Lynn and sharing what her teachings did for my life. If any part of this resonates with you, I’d love for you to explore that journey with me.

A Final Thought

As I left Arizona, I looked back at the land one last time. The red rocks. The wide sky. The quiet that holds everything.

Lynn used to say, “The Earth is always speaking. We just have to remember how to listen.”

I’m still learning how to listen. But I know now that sacred ground doesn’t just exist in faraway places. It exists wherever we choose to remember. Wherever we choose to return. Wherever we choose to honor what came before us and what will come after.

Thank you, Lynn. For the teachings. For the courage. For showing me and so many others the way home.

CRANBROOK – WHEN THE UNIVERSE REDIRECTS YOU

This week, I found myself back at Cranbrook House and Gardens for the 125th anniversary celebration of Detroit Working Writers. Walking through those familiar rooms stirred up memories I hadn’t thought about in years.

Cranbrook holds a special place in my story, though not in the way I originally imagined. Years ago, I trained to become a docent there. I was drawn to the estate’s beauty, the carefully preserved history, the stories embedded in every room. I thought this was where I was meant to be.

But the universe had other plans.

When Things Don’t Click

During the docent training, we were each assigned a room to memorize. Every week, we’d practice presenting as if we were actual docents, working toward that official role. I remember standing in the dining room, trying to absorb every detail, every story, every piece of furniture.

Here’s what I wrote about that experience in Little Baghdad, Chapter 17:

“As I envisioned the meals that took place around the dining table, I heard the docent explain that we were each assigned a script with a room to memorize for the next meeting. Each week, we’d play docent as a means to attaining true docent status. Fear crept in. I don’t retain information very well unless the topic truly matters to me. Otherwise, I tend to freeze. And lo and behold, that was exactly what happened when I stood there in the center of puzzled looks from the rest of the docents-in-training, unable to recall anything about the dining room except that the maid spilt soup on one of the sons and Mrs. Booth’s silverware had ‘Nelly’ etched on the reverse of each of the pieces, the name that her family called her. This reminded me of Nelly Olson in Little House on the Prairie.

That night, walking to my car in the cold quiet winter night, I reflected on the house. … By the time my feet reached my car, I’d made up my mind. I can’t do this.”

I felt embarrassed. Disappointed in myself. I’m usually good at retaining information, at learning new things. Why was this so hard? What was wrong with me?

I never became a docent at Cranbrook.

Then Everything Changed

Not long after that experience, I became the Executive Director of the Chaldean Cultural Center and Museum.

And suddenly, everything that had been difficult at Cranbrook became effortless.

The history of my people, the artifacts, the stories of ancient Mesopotamia, the journey of the Chaldean community. I absorbed it all naturally. I could speak about our culture, our contributions to civilization, our struggles and triumphs without needing to memorize scripts. It just flowed.

This wasn’t about capability or intelligence. It was about calling.

The Spiritual Lesson

When I talk about spirituality, this is what I mean. It’s not always about rituals or meditation, though those have their place. Sometimes spirituality shows up in the simple recognition of where you belong versus where you’re trying to force yourself to fit.

At Cranbrook, I was pushing. At the Chaldean Museum, I was flowing.

That’s the difference between being in alignment and being out of alignment. Your body knows. Your spirit knows. Even when your mind is still trying to convince you that you should make it work.

The struggle I experienced at Cranbrook wasn’t failure. It was guidance. The universe was redirecting me, saying, “Not this path. Keep looking. Your purpose is waiting somewhere else.”

Nothing is Wasted

Looking back now, I see how that experience prepared me in ways I didn’t understand at the time. The docent training taught me about preservation, about honoring history, about the importance of telling stories with care and accuracy.

I used all of that at the Chaldean Museum. I just used it for my own people, my own culture, my own calling.

Nothing is ever wasted. Every detour teaches us something. Every closed door points us toward the one that’s meant to open.

Coming Full Circle

Standing in Cranbrook House this week, years after that difficult realization in the cold parking lot, I felt grateful. Grateful that I listened to that inner voice telling me I didn’t belong there. Grateful that I didn’t force myself to keep going just to prove I could do it.

If I had become a Cranbrook docent, I might never have stepped fully into my role at the Chaldean Cultural Center. I might never have dedicated myself so completely to preserving and sharing the stories of my ancestors.

Sometimes the things that don’t work out are the biggest blessings.

A Message for You

If you’re struggling right now in a place where you thought you belonged, pay attention. Not all struggle is meant to be pushed through. Some struggle is a message.

Ask yourself: Am I struggling because I’m growing, or am I struggling because I’m in the wrong place?

Growth struggle feels hard but purposeful. Misalignment struggle feels hard and hollow.

Trust that inner knowing. Trust that if something isn’t clicking, maybe it’s because something better is waiting. Something that will feel like coming home instead of trying to belong.

Your calling isn’t something you have to force. When you find it, you’ll know. Not because it’s easy, but because even when it’s hard, it feels right.

The universe is always guiding us. Sometimes through open doors. Sometimes through closed ones.

Both are blessings.

Reignite Your Writing Spirit at the Half-Day AG Writing Retreat

On Saturday, May 3rd, I’ll return to the Colombiere Conference and Retreat Center—a place that has been a sanctuary for me and so many others over the years. It’s where I once led a yearly Path of Consciousness Spiritual and Writing Retreat, a space where creativity and spirituality intertwined, offering clarity and healing. During the pandemic, like many of us, I had to pause those gatherings.

Now, I’m returning as an Authors Guild ambassador, hosting a half-day writing workshop, and I couldn’t be more excited to step back into this serene setting. I’ll be teaming up with Gethen Christine Morris, a fellow graduate of Lynn Andrews’ School of Sacred Arts, to create a meaningful and inspiring experience for writers.

Over the years, I’ve learned that writing is far more than the act of putting words on a page. It’s a journey inward, a dialogue with the self, and a way to make sense of the world around us. Writing has been my constant companion, something I’ve leaned on in solitude as I’ve navigated life’s challenges and joys—such as being hospitalized for COVID, losing my mother, witnessing my children grow into themselves, filming my first feature narrative, Pomegranate, and experiencing the ups and downs of marriage and other close relationships with family and friends. Each of these moments, whether filled with pain or celebration, has found its way onto the page, helping me process, heal, and grow.

When writers gather, something beautiful happens. We share not only our techniques and stories but also our fears, our doubts, and our triumphs. There’s a strength and energy that forms in the company of like-minded souls, an understanding that goes beyond words. Writing can be isolating, but it doesn’t have to be lonely. In community, we find encouragement, inspiration, and the gentle nudge we sometimes need to keep going.

I’ve also learned that creativity flourishes when we give it space—when we take time for reflection, movement, and stillness. Some of my best ideas have come not while I was staring at a screen but while walking in nature, journaling after a yoga session, or simply sitting quietly. This is what makes gatherings like this retreat so special. They remind us to slow down, to breathe, and to let the creative process unfold naturally.

At the retreat, we’ll spend time writing, reflecting, and being present with ourselves and each other. Gethen will lead us in yoga and meditation, and I’ll guide a writing workshop to help participants tap into their stories and creative potential. There will also be time to walk the beautiful grounds of Colombiere, to connect with nature, and to let inspiration flow.

But more than the schedule, what I hope this retreat offers is an opportunity to pause and reconnect—with your creativity, your goals, and your inner voice. Writing is a powerful tool for transformation, not just for the stories we tell but for the lives we live.

If you’re feeling stuck, uninspired, or simply in need of a reset, I encourage you to make time for yourself. Whether it’s through this retreat or another way, give yourself the gift of stepping away from the busyness of life to reflect, recharge, and rediscover your creative spirit.

I’m looking forward to this retreat—not just as a leader but as someone who loves learning and growing alongside others. Every time I work with a group of writers, I walk away feeling inspired by their courage, creativity, and commitment to their craft.

If this resonates with you, I’d love for you to join us. Let’s come together to reignite our creative spirits and continue this incredible journey of writing and self-discovery.

Click here to learn more!

Click here to RSVP. There’s no fee, but space is limited, and registration is required.

Where Writing Began: My Chaldean Heritage and Storytelling Journey

Writing is more than the simple act of putting pen to paper—it is a lifeline, a sanctuary, and a means of resistance against forgetting. It began in my birthplace, Iraq, the cradle of civilization, where ancient Mesopotamian cultures—including the Chaldeans—helped shape history by developing one of humanity’s most profound tools: the written word.

I was honored to reflect on this legacy in the inspiring article, “Why Are You Passionate About Paper & Forest Products?” 🌿✨ The feature gave me the opportunity to share how deeply my Chaldean roots have shaped my passion for storytelling and preserving history.

The Chaldeans are among the earliest contributors to the written word, a tradition we have carried through millennia. My ancestors, who still speak Aramaic—the language of Jesus—used writing as a means to create, document, and inspire. The first recorded writer in history, Enheduanna, was a Mesopotamian princess, priestess, and poet, whose words continue to echo across time.

As a Chaldean-American, I consider writing both a gift and a responsibility. It is a legacy I proudly carry forward, creating stories that honor my heritage and ensure the voices of my people are remembered.


The Power of Writing: A Personal Reflection

In the article, I contributed to the section Cultural Heritage and the Power of Writing, where I shared how my people’s groundbreaking invention of writing has shaped my life’s work. Here’s an excerpt (click here for the article):

“Over the centuries, empires and adversaries have tried to erase us, yet we preserved our identity through the written word. Even as recently as 2014, extremists sought to destroy the artifacts and written records of my people. Despite these threats, our stories endure because of the resilience of writing as a medium. Paper became more than a tool; it became a sanctuary, a means of peace and resistance against forgetting. The simple act of putting pen to paper is a way to honor those who came before me and ensure that their voices are not silenced.”

These words remind me of the fragility of memory and the vital role writing plays in preserving history, especially for the Chaldean people. When ISIS destroyed ancestral villages and cultural artifacts in northern Iraq, I felt a deep urgency to document our stories. Writing became my way of ensuring that the history, struggles, and triumphs of my people would not be forgotten.


The Beautiful History of the Chaldeans

The Chaldeans have a rich and vibrant history that dates back to ancient Mesopotamia. Known as one of the earliest civilizations, the Chaldeans contributed significantly to the development of writing, astronomy, and mathematics. Their legacy of innovation and resilience continues to inspire me today.

Even as our communities have faced displacement and destruction throughout history, we’ve held onto our traditions, language, and culture. Writing has been a cornerstone of this survival. Whether inscribed on clay tablets or recorded on paper, it has allowed us to preserve our identity for future generations.

As an author and filmmaker, I strive to honor this history by creating stories that reflect the strength and beauty of my people. Through storytelling, I hope to shed light on the struggles we’ve overcome and the contributions we’ve made to the world.


Read More

In addition to reflecting on my cultural connection to writing, the article highlights other perspectives from leaders in the paper and forest products industry. It’s a fascinating read that explores sustainability, innovation, and the role of paper in everyday life.

If you’re interested in learning more about my journey and the stories of other contributors, check out the full article here: Why Are You Passionate About Paper & Forest Products?

My passion for writing has been the driving force behind much of my life’s work. It has led me to write 20 books and thousands of articles, earn an Eric Hoffer Book Award, and write, direct, and produce two feature films, which together have won over 50 international film awards. I’ve also held numerous leadership roles that have allowed me to advocate for storytelling, heritage, and cultural preservation on a larger scale.

These accomplishments are more than milestones—they are part of my mission to honor my ancestors’ resilience and ensure their voices endure for generations. You can learn more about my journey in my four-part memoir series on Lynn V. Andrews’ mysticism school, which transformed my life as a woman, wife, mother, and author, and deepened my connection to my ancient roots.

Thank you for taking the time to read about my passion for writing and the cultural heritage that inspires it. I’d love to hear your thoughts—what role does writing play in your life?

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B078MK8HZZ

Sharing My Chaldean American Story at the Charles H. Wright Museum of African American History

On March 21, 2025, I stood on the stage of the Charles H. Wright Museum of African American History, ready to share my story as part of The Secret Society of Twisted Storytellers (TSSOTS). This event, hosted by the visionary Satori Shakoor, was a powerful celebration of Women’s History Month. It was an evening of courage, vulnerability, and connection, where stories from diverse backgrounds came alive in front of an audience that was nothing short of extraordinary.

I brought my Chaldean American story to the stage, sharing what it was like to grow up in Iraq. I spoke about the day my school principal slapped me so hard for missing one of Saddam Hussein’s parades that I passed out. That slap wasn’t just a moment of physical pain—it was a symbol of the fear and oppression that permeated life in my homeland. It also marked the beginning of my journey toward reclaiming my voice and my power.

At one point, as I spoke about my mother and emotions overwhelmed me, I had to pause. The audience didn’t just sit silently—they held me in that moment. One woman later told me that she wanted to leave her seat, come on stage, and hug me. I felt everyone’s support, their unspoken hugs wrapping around me as I gathered myself and continued.

The evening wasn’t just about my story, though. It was about the collective power of storytelling. I was honored to share the stage with three phenomenal women:

  • Ciera Estelle, who spoke about her journey from advocating for a bullied classmate as a young girl to becoming an educator who teaches the importance of speaking up. Her message was a powerful reminder that silence can make us complicit in injustice.
  • Tuyishime Claire Gasmgera, who offered a unique perspective on feminism from her experiences in Rwanda. She challenged Western ideas of feminism, advocating for a broader definition that empowers women to make their own choices, whether that’s activism or caring for their families. In her case, she went from hating being in the kitchen to loving it!
  • Faith Brown, whose heart-wrenching story left no one in the room untouched. As the author of The Monster that Killed His Family Twice: The Faith Green Story, she shared the unimaginable tragedy of losing her four children to her husband’s violence. Her strength was a testament to the resilience of the human spirit.

Together, we shared stories that transcended cultures and continents, united by themes of resilience and transformation.

An Extraordinary Audience

The audience that night was unlike any I’ve ever encountered. They weren’t just watching—they were with me, every step of the way. Their attentiveness, their warmth, and their energy created a space where I felt safe to share even the most vulnerable parts of my story.

After the event, many came up to me to express their support. Some hugged me, others shared their own reflections, and one woman said, “I felt every word you spoke.” It was humbling to see how my story resonated, and it reminded me of the profound connection that storytelling can create.

The Power of Listening

What made this night truly special wasn’t just the stories—it was the way the audience listened. Listening is an art form, and when it’s done with intention and an open heart, it can transform both the storyteller and the listener.

Satori Shakoor opened the evening by reminding the audience of their vital role: to listen. “You have the most important job tonight,” she said. And she was right. Too often, people are so focused on preparing their response that they miss the essence of what’s being shared. But that night, the audience listened with their hearts, creating a space where stories could unfold in their rawest, most authentic form.

Satori’s Vision and the Magic of TSSOTS

This is the magic of The Secret Society of Twisted Storytellers. Founded in 2012 by Satori Shakoor, TSSOTS is rooted in one of humanity’s oldest and most intimate traditions: the oral art of storytelling. What began in a 45-seat performance space in downtown Detroit has grown into a global phenomenon, with standing-room-only audiences at venues like The Marygrove Theater and the Charles H. Wright Museum of African American History.

Satori herself is a powerhouse. Her warmth, wisdom, and passion for storytelling have transformed countless lives. Beyond her work with TSSOTS, she’s also a talented artist and storyteller with an upcoming film project, Confessions of a Menopausal Femme Fatale, that promises to be as impactful as her live events. Her vision is simple yet profound: to use storytelling as a tool for healing, connection, and transformation.

As I left the stage, I carried with me the love and support of everyone in that room. Of course, I shared my story behind Pomegranate, which, as a result of healing, I was able to accomplish. The beautiful part is that after all the encouragement and support I’ve been given by others, the icing on the cake is being able to pass it forward—through my work and simply by being me.

To learn more about The Secret Society of Twisted Storytellers or to attend future events, visit www.twistedtellers.org.

To learn more about Pomegranate, visit:

Women Reshaping Middle Eastern Narratives: Pomegranate

March is Women’s History Month—a time to celebrate the achievements, resilience, and creativity of women around the world. This year, International Women’s Day (March 8) feels particularly inspiring as it coincides with the recent release to 25 countries of Pomegranate, a groundbreaking film that hit theaters on March 4. The film is not just a cinematic masterpiece; it’s a bold statement about women reclaiming and redefining Middle Eastern narratives.

Before its wide release, Pomegranate had its exclusive premiere in Los Angeles on February 27, bringing together cast, crew, and supporters for a night of celebration. As someone who attended the premiere, I was struck by the energy in the room—a shared excitement for a film that promises to transform how Middle Eastern women’s stories are told. From the red carpet to the post-screening discussions, it was clear that Pomegranate is much more than a movie—it’s an inspiring movement.

At its core, Pomegranate is a story that centers women’s voices, their struggles, and their triumphs. The film explores themes of identity, resilience, and the power of storytelling. In an industry—and a world—that often sidelines women’s perspectives, especially in Middle Eastern contexts, Pomegranate breaks barriers by putting women at the forefront.

Click below to see where you can watch the film in 25 countries!

The Power of Representation

The Middle East has long been portrayed through a narrow lens in global media, often shaped by stereotypes that fail to capture the region’s rich diversity and complexity. Pomegranate challenges these depictions by offering a story rooted in authenticity, told through the eyes of women who refuse to be silenced.

The film is not only a celebration of Middle Eastern culture but also a reminder of the universal struggles women face and overcome. By focusing on female protagonists navigating personal and societal challenges, Pomegranate humanizes their experiences in a way that resonates across borders.

Why Pomegranate Matters

Released during Women’s History Month, Pomegranate is a timely reminder of the importance of women’s voices in shaping cultural narratives. The film’s release on March 4 is symbolic—it ties into a month dedicated to honoring women’s contributions throughout history, while also urging us to reflect on the work that still needs to be done for gender equality.

International Women’s Day, celebrated today, reminds us of the global fight for women’s rights and representation. Pomegranate amplifies this message by showcasing how women can redefine the stories told about them—and by them.

A Call to Action

The release of Pomegranate is more than just a cinematic event; it’s a call to support women storytellers and creators. As audiences, we have the power to shape what stories are told by choosing what we watch, share, and celebrate. Films like Pomegranate remind us that representation matters—and that when women take control of their narratives, the world listens.

This Women’s History Month, let’s celebrate the women who are changing the face of storytelling. Let’s amplify their voices, honor their stories, and continue pushing for a future where every woman’s perspective is valued.

If you haven’t yet seen Pomegranate, make it a priority this month. It’s more than a film—it’s a movement.

Happy International Women’s Day!