a həsəl story [part 4]

The Climb

I hit rock bottom. I couldn’t see a way out anymore—and truthfully, I was completely exhausted from the constant back-and-forth battles in my head. I drove to a quiet spot where I could think. Think about how I could possibly do it this time.

The first time I had tried… my wife stopped me.

As I sat in my car, contemplating everything, a plan began forming in my mind. But before I could go through with it, a photo memory popped up on my phone—it was of my kids.

What the hell was I doing?

Hours later, I decided to go home.

When I walked through the door, my wife came up to me and told me our eldest had been crying—because of what I said earlier. I felt ashamed. How could I be so ignorant, saying something like that in front of her?

Then, I noticed something—my trash bags filled with həsəl items were gone. I asked my wife where they were. She told me that while I was gone, our daughter had gathered everything and hid it in her closet so they wouldn’t get thrown away.

It broke me. I had been so blinded—chasing validation from strangers, trying to prove myself to people who didn’t know me—when everything I needed had been right in front of me all along. My wife. My kids. I didn’t realize how much həsəl meant to them. How much I meant to them. And how much they looked up to me.

For the longest time, my wife had encouraged me to seek help. But growing up in an Asian household, “mental weakness” was frowned upon. I didn’t want to be seen as “crazy” on the outside… and in trying to hide it, I ended up going “crazy” on the inside.

So, I took some time off—to reflect, to breathe, and figure out what həsəl and life meant to me at that point in time. Was həsəl heading in the right direction? I for sure wasn't.

One day, while sitting on a bench overlooking the marina—one of my favorite spots—I stumbled on something that would change everything.

I’m a huge D.C. sports fan, and that day, I came across an article on The Players’ Tribune titled “I’m Still Here” by John Wall. He opened up about his battle with mental health, the suicidal thoughts, the whispers that told him... people would be better off without him. The same whispers I’d been hearing. Then he talked about a dream he had, where his mother—who had passed away—told him, "You have to keep going for your children. There's more for you to do on this earth."

That hit me.

Was that what my kids’ photo memory was trying to tell me, too?

Then he mentioned the six words that saved his life— “Yo! I need some f***ing help!”

Those same six words saved mine. It gave me a realization, the only way out, is through me. I was inspired to see that someone I thought was living life, was going through mental health issues, too.

That same day, I asked my wife for the link to find a therapist. I filled out the questionnaires to get matched. Several profiles popped up, but one stood out. Maybe it was God. Maybe it was my dad. But this one therapist had exactly 11 years of experience. I’ve always felt drawn to 11 and 11:11. So I chose her.

It turned out to be a blessing in disguise. She was deeply rooted in her faith. Over the course of many sessions, almost 2 years' worth, she helped me rebuild, giving me tools on how to approach situations with my mental health. She recommended books to read and challenged me to do things outside of my comfort zone, which changed my perspective on things. Most of all, she reminded me to always ask God for help. For Him to help carry my burdens when they got too heavy.   

Through therapy, I began healing. I learned who my critic really was.

That he’ll always be there—but now, I had tools to fight back. She helped me find the courage to live life on my own terms—not anyone else’s.

With my faith restored, I learned to love myself again. God really does work in mysterious ways. He didn’t break me to destroy me. He slowed me down to show me that what I was building wasn’t true to who I was.

I was trying to fit in.

But həsəl was never meant to fit in. It was always about being different, by accepting yourself. Living by an ethos, Outliers Never Correlate™. A math reference—because yeah, I’m nerdy like that, LOL.

The Lost Souls capsule collection was born.

Feeling renewed, I reached out to the same manufacturer. Third time’s a charm, right? This time, I was introduced to a new sales director. I told him everything I’d been through with the company, and he assured me that they’d restructured the entire department.

It gave me confidence.

I got to work—designed the new collection and hired an artist to digitize the designs. After a few months of back-and-forth, we were ready to start sampling. Because the designs were so detailed, the sales director brought in a new print specialist to ensure the samples turned out right. While production was underway, I also brought on a vendor to help build the website.

For the first time in a long time, it felt like həsəl was moving again.

After several months, the samples were finally done—and they looked amazing! I took them to get flat-lay photos, then booked a studio and photographer for more product shots. The entire photo process took about a month. During this time, I was updating both the production manager and sales director regularly. But something felt off. They weren’t replying even though they had usually been responsive.

Could this really be happening again?

We were months into the project—this wasn’t like before. Emails, calls—no response. I finally texted the sales director. That’s when he told me.

He’d been laid off. So had 30 others, including everyone on my team. I called the manufacturer to ask who had taken over. They transferred me to someone new who had no idea what was going on. I had to explain the entire project from scratch. She said she’d look into it.

A week passed. I followed up. Her reply? They could no longer reproduce my samples because they didn’t have the capabilities anymore. I demanded a refund. I had spent over $2,000. She said that wasn’t possible, but offered to let me continue sourcing fabric from them. Yeah…no, LOL.

That wasn’t going to fly—not with who I am now.

I prepped my documents and took them to court. Meanwhile, I paused the web developer and told them I wasn’t sure what would happen next. They were understanding and said they’d be ready when I was.

Thanks to therapy, I didn’t back down. I won the case—but the manufacturer had filed for bankruptcy. I was only able to recover about half of what I was owed. The old me would’ve just let them screw me over. But, at least I got back something.

I bounced back quickly. Lesson learned: No more manufacturing in LA—for now. Too much turnover, too many headaches.

So I took my talents to—South Beach. Just kidding, LOL. Portugal.

I’ve always admired how Portugal knits and finishes fabric. Long story short: I recreated the samples, got new flat lays done, and reconnected with the web development company—now under new management.

I got in touch with the new team lead. He seemed solid. Said he’d follow up in a week. A week passed. Nothing. Followed up. Nothing. Emailed. Called. I was ghosted.

This time though? I didn’t spiral. I didn’t dwell. I didn’t sue, because I didn't have the energy to deal with them in Texas. I simply said, “Bet. I’ll do it myself.”

I made myself familiar with the developing tools and started building the site on my own. Most importantly—I was at peace. And my critic? He had nothing to say.

If you’ve followed this journey from Part 1 to now—you’re all caught up.

Is the website perfect? No. Is it ready? Yes. And that’s enough. I’m no longer chasing perfection. I’m chasing progress, a Japanese concept, kaizen.

This journey has shaped me into the man I prayed to become. God didn’t give me the life I asked for—He gave me the one I needed. One that would help me finally accept myself.

I’m not perfect. həsəl isn’t perfect. But we’re evolving. From now on, we improve—not prove. I read somewhere: “We don’t climb mountains to reach the top. We climb to see who we become along the way.”

My mountain is massive. And I’m still climbing.

So, what is həsəl? It’s the inner hustle people go through daily.

The battle to find peace. To accept yourself. To believe that you are enough.

Let this brand be a reminder: To pause. To live life on your own terms. And most of all—to love yourself.

I'll close out with this...since music is soul food (Hint: Part 2 of the Souls collection).

           
            [Nicki Minaj – “Moment 4 Life”]

(Drake – Verse 2)

 I’m really tryna make it more than what it is

'Cause everybody dies, but not everybody lives…

Lost Souls Capsule preorders launch on April 29th. Stay tuned.

May peace be with you 🙏