You no more…

I’d rather die

Bury my feet into the spongy ground

Vanish into the night

I’d rather stay silent

Go blind

Steal the key of the door

Taking to my heart

I’d rather fly away

Walk barefoot on fire

Swim till I can breathe no more

I’d rather escape

Take up arms

Fight against the Lion

I’d rather scream so loud

That everybody has to hide

I’d rather risk my life

Than going back to you


84 more victims

Watching the words

Flying by

Singing songs

I hear from a distance

Watching hatred

Consuming lives

And shattering so many dreams

So much blood

On the pavement

That no waves could remove

A smile on a photo

And tears in our eyes

Behind us, water shades of blue

Telling us we are alive

Only Love can save us

When inside we are burning

With rage and anger

Thinking of men, women

Even more dramatic, young children

Eyes dazzled by fireworks in the dark sky

Falling down under the wheels

Of a mad truck

84 more victims

Killed by an insane religious fanatic

Orlando Blues

I feel for the mothers

For their cries in the dark

I feel for the fathers

For the deep pain in their heart

I feel for the brothers, the sisters, the neighbors

For the memory they treasure

Of a young guy coming home

Being free to love

I feel for the killer

For his lack of self-love

I feel for his family

For the loss of innocence

I feel for the wounded

For the ones who survived

I feel for the dead

For their bodies lost in bloodshed

I feel for the world

For the ones feeling empty and scared

I feel for the world

For the ones who don’t care

I feel for the world

For the ones shouting back

Let us live in Peace

Let us free to be who we are.


I pray for the Orlando Victims of Human Madness

Education is prevention…

…and prevention is protection.

Now-a-days, we hear a lot about violence. Violence at home, bullying at school, harassment at work or on the street. Violence is everywhere. It does not define our societies or who we are but it plays an important role in our evolution and how we decide to define ourselves.

In the past couple of years, the French government put into place important measures to fight all types of violence, creating adds to show its impact on peoples lives, opening more helplines, dedicated centres to welcome the victims, creating new jobs and training programs. Many well-known artists took it over and started campaigns around the country and in the world.

Still, I think something is missing in order, if not to eradicate violence completely, at least to change the vision of men and women on the subject and prevent violence from spreading even more. Before discussing the impact of violence, people first have to be educated on what violence is, how to spot it and how to protect themselves from it. MORE on WMB


Empty Man

He has a body

Like you and me

But inside him

There is nothing

He hides his weaknesses

With harsh words

Wishing to cause you pain

In order to stay safe

He is using insults as weapons

Trying to push you backwards

He is playing with your feelings

Thinking he has still power over you

Threats are running like lava from his mouth

And he keeps saying

He is a good man

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I can’t stand it

It’s physical.

It makes me shiver.

It gives me goosebumps.

I look at the screen


I want to scream.


She said

She’s afraid of him

She has to leave

But where could she go?

She has to go

But she is afraid to leave him?

This can’t last

But she loves him


She said it’s like hell

It’s like being scared to go back home

She said

She can’t look at him anymore

She told me

She has to hide in the bathroom

She cried

She has to mind her words

She has to silenced her mind


How to help her?

What can I do?

I tried a couple of words

But she is not ready to let go

I gave her number and the names of people who can help her

But she does not want to share her story with strangers



I sit down

I pray

What else can I do?

Tell her to leave

Tell her she deserves better


She doesn’t seem ready to hear my words

She says it’ll be alright

She says he said sorry

I know it’s not right

I know he is playing with her mind


But she believes him



I am standing there





It’s physical.

I can’t stand it

I would give the world

So she could see

The horrible truth of her reality


Under Infuence – No More

It’s horrible to think that you are fine, safe and suddenly find out that as long as a certain person is around you, you will never be safe, or fine.

I was under his influence for 4 years. He was directing my life, my thoughts, my habits, my choices, my taste…

I stopped seeing my friends, my family. I was isolated, frustrated, lost. I was surviving. I was walking on eggshells all the time, in case I would do or say something that would make him angry and silent for days.

I left, thinking I would be safe, thinking that he would stop having influence on me, thinking I was setting myself free.

I worked so hard to get stronger, to stop feeling guilty and to rebuild my life piece after piece.

But I forgot to say STOP.

He WON’T change.

I just need to know this by heart. I just need to integrate it fully, not just like this.

I am so sure he WON’T change. And still I have a tiny drop of hope in me…

I SHOULD STOP seeing him.

I SHOULD STOP the mediation process. It does not bring us anywhere.

It’s all about HIM, HIS needs, HIS wishes.

He wants. He needs. He says “you must”, “you have to”.

Listening to him is like being in a rollercoaster. At the end of the talk, you just want to hide and cry, you don’t know any more what’s ok, what’s not, what you want to say, what you want at all. You say YES when you think NO. You just want it to be over.

Leaving a violent relationship is tough. And the best thing to do is closing the doors, not letting the violent person enter your new world, your new life.

It’s OVER. Over for your sanity. Over for self-respect. Over, because if you are nice just one second, the abusive ex will know it and will push where it hurts, will turn your world upside down, will break you.

I did not leave to give him another chance to break me. I should be stronger. I should cut all ties with him and never let him approach me again, NEVER EVER.


Sympathy for the evil

I did not make any mistake in the title…I won’t talk to you about the Rolling Stones! I’ll talk to you about a book I just finished reading and that moved me a lot.

I knew Jodi Picoult. Who does not know Jodi Picoult anyway?

I read “my sister’s keeper” and I cried. I did cry a lot. I did not want to feel that way again, powerless.

But when I checked at Nineteen Minutes on Kim’s blog, I decided to give it a chance.


So here I was, reading a story about a young guy, Peter, who went to school one day and killed 10 people and let many others on the edge.

This is tough. I mean who could even think to have sympathy for this kind of person, capable of such violence. Killing people does not solve any issue. We can’t tolerate it.

But then Jodi Picoult takes us back in time, looking at the life of this young guy, of his friend Josie, who took another road, who tried to belong, who would do anything to fit in. Peter did not fit in. He was different. He was badly treated, bullied at school.

But I imagine what you’ll say to me:

How many of us have been bullied at school, and never turned violent?

How many of us suffered hardships, without turning the gun towards our abusers? 

Violence can’t be accepted.

Thought, as you are moving into the book, into the shattered life of so many people, you do remember that the shooter is the son of somebody, the son of a man and a woman who did their best to raise their son to be a good citizen. You do remember that you don’t always have the full picture to make up your mind. You do remember that it’s easy to say “I will never do this”, but that you don’t always have the chance to do something else.

There is no excuse for what Peter did. Behind his act, there are many questions which need to be asked and answered by society and families.

As I was turning the last pages, I was feeling some kind of sympathy for this guy. But if I had been on the jury to judge his case, I would still have sentenced him to life.

This story told me that sometime behind the bad actions, the violence, there are men and women waiting to tell their stories, waiting to be heard before it’s too late, waiting to be taken care of and helped.

Violence is not the solution.

We (Society, Family, Justice, Education…) are the solution.

There is nothing as « just a slap »

I was talking with a friend the other day, and she told me: “you know, he didn’t want to hurt her. It was just a slap”.

I CAN’T HEAR something like this and stay silent. When it has to do with violence, there is no such thing as “just a”.

No “just a threat”. No “just a punch”. No “just a bad word”.

If we allow this into our life, we allow violence in it too. By allowing violence, we become part of the issue; we become abusers, without even noticing it.

I am astonished to hear a woman say “it’s just a slap”, like “that’s ok, it’s nothing bad after all.”


How can we even tolerate it?

How is this possible?

How is it even possible that today a man could say “they call this rape, come on, look at her, she was just asking for it”?

I wanted to throw up my lunch. I had him in front of me and he made me sick.

We are living in a crazy society. We are moving backwards, while wonderful women are raising their voices to say “NO MORE”. Check this out – 8 Ways to Kick Domestic Violence Ass

NO MORE of this.


It’s time for us to say STOP to it. Today. Right now. Right in front of these people who seem to see violence as natural, normal.

It’s not.

It never was.

It never will be.

And it should stop.

Death is just a breath away from us, if we do nothing, if we keep accepting intolerable things.


ps – This resumes so well my past relationship and my mariage

Good wife

These are the two words I was always wishing to get. They were like the most precious thing of my married life.

I used to rush home after work to start cooking the diner, before my ex-husband came home. I didn’t want him to tell me once again that I was not cooking right. Cooking for him became my worst nightmare. Cooking right. Cooking, so he would eat and not ask for something else, at the middle of the night.

It it wasn’t right, he wasn’t going to eat it. He was going to tell me: “I showed you twice. If you can’t get it right, it’s your problem”.

But when it was good, he would say “good wife”. And it felt good. I could breath again. He would not leave me. He would not go out and search for a new wife.

It was not only for cooking. It was for going out, dressing up, cleaning the house or ironing his shirts. It was for learning arabic words and acting nice with his friends.

Me: “the dusk keep coming back quickly here.”

Him: “it’s because you don’t know how to clean well.”

Me: “I am going out with friends for a coffe.”

Him: “Where? What time? Which friend? A boy? A friend I know?”

Him: “Did you clean this shirt?”

Me: “I did.”

Him: “Really? Look it’s dirty. Give me another one and next time look at it twice before putting it in the wardrobe.”

Me: “Why do you always make me feel useless?”

Him: “I tell you all this for your own good. Cause I know better than you.”

Moments of life. GOOD WIFE. OR NOT.

Most of the time I was not. And then some days I was, the days I did clean well and cook well, the days I stayed at home and wait for him to come back, the days I did not raise my voice or don’t argue with him, the days I welcome his friends nicely (but never with a big smile, cause it was not good for a wife to smile too much).

In the last months of our marriage, I was not Marie anymore. He was calling me “my wife” all the time, when asking me something or telling me again that “no man would ever love me like he did”. I was His Wife. His Good Wife some days. And His Bad Wife when I would not fit in the boxes he created.