When The Growing Gets Tough Ft. Saman Hayat Soomro

In this conversation I sit down with Saman Hayat Soomro, a content creator who has had the kind of year that forces you to grow in ways you never asked for. She got married, moved to Dubai, started a business, and then lost the eyesight in one eye. We talk about all of it, the old Saman and the new, and the raw lessons that came with each shift. This one is emotional, but it is also a reminder that the hardest chapters often hold the most meaning.

An accidental creator with a purpose

Saman never set out to be an influencer. She wanted to be a surgeon. When she failed the entry test for her dream medical school, she landed in dentistry, a path she did well in but never truly loved. While still a student, a cousin’s husband asked her to host a live show on their platform. She was thrown onto the internet with no script, just talking. People responded, and soon she started an Instagram page just to share her life. One brand sent a PR package and she did not even know what that was.

But the real purpose came later, on her first solo trip abroad. At 23, she travelled to Thailand (with a friend joining later) and met people who were genuinely shocked that a Pakistani woman could travel alone, could wear half sleeves and not be in a burqa. “I realized I have to create the image of a Pakistani woman who is powerful, who is not hidden, who does not go after dreams only when she has support,” she says. That moment gave her a mission: to show that independence does not mean running away, it means building a life you control, emotionally and financially. She even gave two TED talks on the topic. And that independence, she explains, is not just physical. It is the skill of thinking for yourself, making decisions on your feet, and learning that you can be whole by yourself.

The pressure to marry and a no-compromise list

As her blog grew, so did the pressure around shaadi. People told her mom the blog was the reason proposals were not coming. Saman felt crushed. She even stopped posting for a while, but then she drew a line. “I had two lists,” she says. “A no-compromise list and a compromise list. You should know where you are willing to compromise and it should not change your personality.” She knew that anyone who asked her to give up her voice was not the right person. When she met Anas and asked if the blog was a problem, his confusion said it all. “Should there be a problem?” He asked. His mother saw her posts and thought they were wonderful. The match clicked because she did not have to shrink. She also wanted a partner she could build an empire with, not just step into someone else’s. For all the girls still waiting, her message is clear: the right family will accept you exactly as you are, not despite your work but because of it.

Moving to Dubai and the shock of adulting

Marriage brought a new country, an empty flat, and a reality check no amount of solo travel had prepared her for. She was alone on a couch in Dubai while her husband worked, and suddenly she was burning rice and crying in the kitchen. The simple act of changing bedsheets for the first time felt like a milestone, and when she shared that online, trolls laughed at her. “I was a meme,” she says, “but it was an achievement for me.” She was not faking adulting. She was living it, without her mom just a call away and without the informal drop-ins she had in Karachi. For any woman who has ever felt that same shock, Saman is proof that you learn, you adjust, and eventually the new city starts to feel like your own.

The morning I lost my sight

A headache, an eye ache, and a doctor saying it was nothing. A week later, back in Dubai, she woke up and one eye saw only black. “I just thought my life is maybe over,” she recalls. “And maybe you know this is it.” She was alone, crying on the floor, and her husband was at work. The hospital confirmed optic neuritis and started steroids, but no one could guarantee her vision would return. For days she was silent, lost. Her parents flew in. Her husband cared for her like a baby, and she saw a depth in her relationships that no career milestone ever showed her. “The relationships I have hold more value than any financial value can ever hold,” she says now. She still does not have a full diagnosis, and the thought of more scans brings claustrophobia, but she is giving herself time. What matters now is different.

Hijab, judgment, and the art of pausing

After the health scare, Saman found herself drawing closer to religion. She started wearing hijab, not because she had become a perfect Muslim overnight, but because she saw it as a step. “Hijab for me is a step towards self-improvement and getting closer to the religion,” she says. “If this was my step one, maybe giving up music is step three or step five hundred.” That nuance was lost on many. When she posted a video getting emotional over seeing Shah Rukh Khan at an event, the comments flooded in accusing her of not being a proper hijabi. She was hurt but then she asked herself a deeper question: why did their words have so much power? “When someone triggers you, it is a huge sign to reflect: which part of me is unhealed that is getting triggered by this?” That insight stopped me in my tracks. It is so easy to police others, especially women who choose a visible path of faith, but the real work is inward. Saman reminds us that you do not want to become that aunty you used to hate, the one who never did her own healing. In this conversation, we also talked about the power of pausing before reacting, about letting yourself feel the primary emotion instead of spinning out from the secondary one. That pause, she and I agree, is where the real growth happens.

I ended this conversation feeling like I had been handed a mirror. Saman’s journey from a girl who travelled alone to a woman navigating marriage, a health crisis, and a new faith is messy, and that is exactly why it is so relatable. She does not have all the answers, and she is not trying to be anyone’s perfect representation. She is just taking the next step, and that is more than enough. If you are in a season of transition, maybe the only thing you need to do today is pause, breathe, and trust that you are growing, even when it feels tough.