Marrakech – For Moroccan girls, healing often starts with a chaabi beat, a henna cone, and a group chat that’s 90% voice notes and 10% “Guess what just happened?”

While the world swears by journaling and yoga retreats, we find peace in other ways — like aggressively scrubbing our souls (and skin) at the hammam or dancing alone in our rooms to an old Samira Said song like we’re headlining Mawazine.

Let’s break it down.

Chaabi isn’t just music — it’s a mood lifter, a breakup cure, and a whole cardio session rolled into one.

When life feels heavy, we close the door, turn up the volume, and let our hips take over. It’s not just dancing — it’s emotional release.

Some people get manicures. We gather with cousins, exchange life updates, and draw centuries-old floral patterns on our hands.

Somewhere between the giggles and the henna stains, something magical happens: we breathe easier.

We don’t just talk. We spill. Over a glass of piping hot atay, we debrief every family gathering, overanalyze every text, and end with unsolicited love advice.

Is it therapy? Technically, no. But emotionally? Absolutely.

It’s not about impressing anyone. It’s about facing the mirror, blasting some ILY or Manal, and painting confidence onto our faces one brush stroke at a time.

Contour heals more than you’d think.

Whether it’s to Chefchaouen, the Sahara, or a beach house in Asilah, there’s something about packing a bag with your besties and escaping the noise.

The laughs get louder, the problems feel smaller, and suddenly, everything feels fixable.

Sure, it’s hot and humid, and yes, that kessa glove doesn’t play — but walking out of the hammam with glowing skin and a lighter heart? Unmatched.

Sometimes therapy is watching Rkia from that early 2000s Moroccan series suffer so we don’t have to.

Bonus points if Mom pauses every two minutes to explain the real story behind the scene.

Let’s be honest. We spiral. A lot. But we also find a way to turn every meltdown into a moment — dramatic sighs included.

So, is it therapy or just vibes?

Maybe both. Because healing doesn’t always look like a psychologist’s couch.

Sometimes, it looks like red henna, gold kaftans, old music, new lipsticks, and girlfriends who know exactly when to say “Hchouma 3lik” and when to say “yallah, we’re going out.”