Hina Rashid — крутилось 2 дн, охват 2k

Hina Rashid с 2026-02-20 · картинка · 🇬🇧 английский
Кадр рекламы Hina Rashid
крутилось дней 2
охват — Facebook показывает только по Европе 2k
стран показа — словами Facebook 1
куда ведёт · кнопка «Download» dragofate.site https://dragofate.site/ оффер
показывается в странах 🇬🇧 GB

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🔴 I’M NOT ASHAMED TO BE A “SHIT MUM” 🔴 Hiya, I’m Hina, 32. Born in Lahore, dead normal Pakistani family. Eight year back I came over to England — little town called Scarborough, North Yorkshire. All the relatives were like: “It’s quiet there, housing’s cheap, decent support system, fresh start for the kiddies.” Proper small place by the sea, not flashy touristy — just normal, working-class, windy as hell off the North Sea, old houses everywhere. I came for love, you know? This fella who kept promising: family, quiet life, “everything’s a million times better in England than Pakistan”. But a year in, I’m six months gone with triplets, and he just goes: “Look, I’m not ready. Three at once? Nah, too much. Sort it yourself.” And he proper legged it. Left me on me own with three newborns. Two lads — Harun and Zayn — and little Zara. They’re seven now. Every morning’s a right battle just to keep going: quarter to six — kids still out for the count, I sneak about making brekkie and getting meself ready. Half six — wake the little monkeys, chuck clothes on them (thick coats and hats in winter, light stuff in summer), shove food down them while they’re half asleep. Seven o’clock — drag all three to school (thank God it’s only fifteen minutes walk, but in wind and rain it’s absolute murder). Quarter to eight — legging it to work. I do warehouse, logistics — lugging boxes: washing powder, packet food, endless bloody pallets. Hands cracked from cardboard and cold, back’s killing me by end of shift, can’t even stand up straight. Evening comes, they finally crash out, and I just sit there thinking: “Hina, you’re not a proper mum. You’re just trying not to drown in this town with them.” Week or so back, after a brutal day on the warehouse floor, I’m trudging home. Sea wind proper slicing me face, legs shaking, head empty. All I’m thinking is: “How much longer can I keep this up, this English hamster wheel and being on me tod?” Get in — kids are colouring. Zara runs up with her pic

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