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Burnout, Belonging, and a Scream: Mona

Burnout, Belonging, and a Scream: Mona

1. What you offered with Scream Club on TikTok went viral and received more attention than you could have imagined. Why do you think it resonated with so many people?

The concept of scream clubs or group screaming is nothing new. People come

together to scream all the time, scream for joy, pain, or release. There is something

innately primal and human about screaming—which partly explains why the concept

of group screaming resonates with so many people.

I had my own reasons for wanting to host a scream club in London. Firstly, there

have been more water-downed explanations that I provided more mainstream press

with. Saying I was arguing with my older brother over bedrooms, but the reality is far

bigger. The argument stemmed from frustration, why the hell am I 26 and constantly

feeling like I am starting over. Why no conventional career path has stuck, why

normal things like moving out, financial independence felt so out of my grasp. Why

after doing everything “right” I was still getting the wrong outcome. That feeling that I

am not in control of my own living situation let alone the direction of my life made me

want to scream. After applying for 350 jobs in 2024 to receiving one job acceptance,

to quitting only after 6 months
 to giving more unconventional career paths a go...

to everyone telling you how proud and inspired they are when you still feel like you’re

in the same spot.

This life, in London, makes you feel like you’re not in control. That you’re running

faster than the average person but you’re always catching up. It makes you want to

scream
 at least in my case.

It’s fair to say that Scream Squad started off as a joke but after speaking to

attendees I quickly realised that it isn’t just me or a handful of people who felt the

way I did. When I looked around at the people who attended I saw young

professionals, students, men, women, coming together to scream, united by the

same themes of anger and frustration. And distrust. Distrust in the social contract

that was promised to them, work hard, be rewarded. But with inflation on the rise,

cost of living beating us to the bone, and the loss of affordable third spaces. The

people of London, are broke, lonely and hopeless. So, what’s left to do
 but

scream?

2. People need to feel connected. You created a space for that. How did it feel then, and how does it feel now?

The Primrose Hill event took me by such a huge surprise. I wasn’t expecting that

many people to show up. I was completely overwhelmed by the number of people

that I didn’t take the time to really appreciated the momentum of the moment. The

second event hosted at Parliament Hill, made me appreciate the power of the event.

Seeing the confidence, it gave attendees to get up and share why they’ve attended

the event. And since then, I have hosted scream and runs, and yoga and scream

events, and while the number of attendees has dropped, the impact remains the

same. It’s not just about the act of screaming; it’s the community that has grown from

it. Scream Squad is free and inclusive. It offers the people of London a unique

opportunity to meet people in the most unconventional way. My personal favourite

way of describing scream squad is the ultimate ice-breaker. Skip the small talk,

scream in my face instead and let’s grab a matcha after. And that’s exactly what

happens. People arrived alone and left with new friends. It’s about community as

well as a personal release of frustration.

3. What first drew you to the path you are on now? Was it curiosity, courage, or something else?

The belief that there is more to the life I was living. When ordinary ways of living

never worked out I had to make the decision to keep forcing the shoe to fit or trial

something completely new. Social media as a career for anyone is still considered

abnormal, now imagine a first gen British Iraqi woman from a family that remains

confined to tradition. Nothing wrong with tradition, mind you it just wasn’t for me. You

could say I was never born to be subtle or discreet, and my recent ventures would

validate that. So, I’d say it’s a mix of curiosity and courage, the curiosity to explore

another way of living and the courage to live it.

4. What does it mean for you to be yourself in a world that constantly asks you to become something else?

As a child, being yourself comes naturally, untouched by judgment or expectation.

As an adult, being yourself means reclaiming that same freedom while fully aware of

the world’s cruelty and its constant pressure to bend you into a more acceptable

form.

I am often told that I am “white-washed,” or that I present myself in a way that

appeases a Western audience.

Rather than internalising these comments, I have come to understand myself as a

product of my environment. I grew up in Guildford, Surrey, and West London. I

attended all-girls schools, and most of my friends were the Tillys and Millys of the

world. My parents were both born in Iraq but left at a young age. Much of what my

father knew of Iraq was passed down through language, literature, music, and art.

My mother moved to the UK at twelve, and my childhood soundtrack was Gwen

Stefani and Shakira playing in the car.

The versions of “Iraqi culture” that intermittently appeared in my upbringing often

bred resentment, because they felt illogical to my child—and later adult—mind. Why

could I dress freely most of the time, but suddenly be expected to cover up when a

particular guest arrived? Why could my younger brother stay out later than me when

I was the eldest? These are only a few examples, but the pattern was clear.

Culture is not static. I am neither solely Iraqi nor solely British; I am both. There is no

shortage of diaspora-based spoken word and poetry that articulates this tension with

force and eloquence. I do not need to add to that canon to justify myself. I am simply

a product of my environment and it is not my responsibility to make myself legible to

others.

5. What is one thing you have learned about yourself through creating?

In action creates anxiety, and someone who was born to create should simply act.

6. How do you reconnect when you drift away from yourself?

My friends. My friends add such a light to my life, they make me feel seen and

understood in a world that can feel so isolating. They make the worst days feel like

the best.

7. What are you learning to release in order to make space for what comes next?

I really want to trust myself more. Trust that things are working out for me. Trust that

I am capable of making decisions that are going to work out for me. I am often told

that I am extremely guarded and that my walls are miles up. I want to be softer and

more vulnerable, and be more open to opportunities and people.

8. What role does connection play in your world?

Connection is everything in my world. Outside of Scream Squad, my content

revolves around relatability—creating work that helps people feel seen, understood,

and accepted. We often joke that there is no such thing as an original experience,

and social media trends only reinforce that idea. Again and again, we see our most

private thoughts mirrored back to us by strangers online.

We are connected through shared experiences, and it is this collective recognition

that makes the world feel both vast and intimate at the same time.

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