January 26, 2009

The significance of a Perfume Bottle!

He got me perfume, the new CH by Carolina Herrera!

I called him to tell him that I was not ok with him buying me perfume, or any other gifts for that matter and that he should know better than to put something along with his gifts to the boys. He said I am still their mom and that it was his “peace offering” attempt.

He said that he was making it up to me for the perfume bottle and lotion that were missing when I moved out and asked him to send over my stuff. Back then he said he had no idea where that was, and I argued that it was still in gift wrapping and that it was a gift that I cherished and he had no right to confiscate it. He said he didn’t see it and that perhaps the cleaning lady took it or one of his aunts/cousins thought I didn’t deserve it as they were the ones to pack my things!

I remember I was furious at his reply, and I remember I had doubts of him giving it to his girlfriend. Everyone I know told me back then that it’s just another perfume bottle and that I can easily go buy me another one. I cried as I said that it was my perfume bottle, and it was a gift from a good friend and no one had the right to take it.

It all replayed in my head as he spoke, I found myself saying I still didn’t think he owed me a perfume bottle. I said that if anything, he owed me THAT perfume bottle, and anyway, I was over the whole thing.

He said so nervously that he just smelled that perfume and it reminded him of me, and he thought it should be ok to get me something and that I should stop that attitude and be as civil as I claim I can be.

I was baffled because as much as I am ready and willing to move beyond the negative feelings, I am still too proud to accept any gifts from him as my x.

That happened three days ago. It still makes me smile how he got me the wrong perfume, how the wrong perfume reminded him of me.

The perfume he lost was my favorite perfume; J’adore by Christian Dior; my friend got me that because it reminded her of me, and it happened to be my favorite. My friend is actually a daughter of one of my father’s best friends, we’ve become friends since I was a teenager and we barely see one another during short summer vacations when she visits from the States.

The perfume he got me is too strong, to the extent that I could get a headache wearing it. While my perfume has a light fragrance that stay with me without disturbing my sensitive nostrils!

My friend of every other summer knows me much better than the man I once loved and married for a number of years! If someone I barely see enough could know that much about my character more than the one I loved could see after living with me year after another, what does that say about the relationship we had!

I smile as I remember how he never got me the right gift unless he asked me what I liked before getting it. I smile because I was so very blinded by my emotions to notice that, when on the other hand, I always knew exactly what to get him!

Now, I still think it’s the right thing to return that gift, only I am left with a very tiny dilemma. If he’s sincere, I’d probably offend him, which is unnecessary in our fragile relationship. On the other hand, if I keep it and he’s given it to me as another desperate attempt to win me back, I’d be giving him the wrong sign. Like I said, that man never listens to anything I say, he’s driven by his own disturbed thoughts alone.

January 25, 2009

Falling into place…

I am still too overwhelmed to write a coherent post that links all the pieces together without being too long and blabber-ish!

All I can say is that it all makes sense now, or at least most of it!

I never really thought it would, I never imagined I’d see it so clearly, but I do, and it feels amazing, indescribable actually!

I think of all the people I have known through the last couple of years and I see the value each has added, the contribution each has made to my emotional and mental growth! Even the ones I don’t understand do not bring turmoil; strangely enough, the confusion comes with an accepting smile.

I look at the darkest part of my life and I am grateful it’s behind me. I understand how I got there and I appreciate that I finally found a way out. I am acknowledging my share of responsibility on how I got myself in that much trouble and I forgive myself. Strangely enough, I am also willing to forgive others; it’s a bit conditional, but it’s a place to start. Who knew!

My old problems will come to an end, one way or the other, I still don’t know which, but I know it will end soon and that’s a relief.

I still have my fears and my worries, but I am convinced that if I keep a clear perspective like I do right now, I shall be safe. I have my well defined set of rules, and I know which ones I can break and when, and I am happy that way.

It’s time to give something back. I would be lying if I say it’s completely selfless of me, it’s also self-serving; I need to be constantly reminded of what I’ve been through so that I won’t forget what I have to do, and so that I don’t let myself lose my way again.

Looks like it’s time this blog is no longer a moping space, at least not quite as often! I don’t know how I would find the words to fill it, but I know I will find something to say, I always do! After all, I am not that zen and I am still working on getting my divorce, not to mention my high expectations of life which of course will lead me to many disappointments to come… so there is always good drama there ;)

January 19, 2009

It's such a complicated society!

I don’t know if it’s our human nature or our society, but I find our tendency to complicate all matters very disturbing. I know it might sound a bit ironic and contradicting coming from someone like me who over thinks everything, especially with how long this post is expected to drag!

So here is where this is coming from…

I went out with my x last weekend, along with the kids; like a hallmark happy family and shit.

So this is how it was like…


Thursday Evening – After I got off work, I picked the kids up from their nursery and met him at Carrefour Maadi, where the kids knocked themselves out in the kids playing area after getting more than their fair share of toys!

Friday – He picked us up from my parents’ after prayers and we spent the day at the club where the boys behaved like they’ve never seen sand in their entire lives!

The impact on the kids:

My Beem was glowing with happiness being around his daddy. He was so proud of the little toys he got and kept saying “babaya gabhomly”, he kept going on and on about how he loves his “baba M”. He behaved his best to impress his daddy and he told him “ana ba7ebak ya baba M” all of a sudden as they were sitting next to one another (of course the x had a bag full of toys next to him, but my Beem is unconditionally sweet when he feels like it nonetheless).

The next day at the club, Beem was happy showing off his scooter-riding skills. Surprisingly, my very cautious and rather easily scared Beem jumped from what would normally be a scary height to impress his daddy after his daddy taught him how to climb those monkey bars. I almost screamed myself; luckily the sand made his fall less painful than it would have been otherwise, and my Beem landed on his feet rather than his knees. *me so proud*

Mocha was rather calm and peaceful. It was his first time to interact with his dad. We’ve been separated less than a month after he was born and he refers to my father as “baba”. So I kept referring to my x as “baba” so that Mocha would pick up on it. He didn’t talk to him at all, but whenever I asked him to give something to baba, he obeyed smilingly.

The impact on me:

Strangely enough, I didn’t burn with jealousy when my son said he loved his daddy; in fact, I was proud that all the negative feelings I have for his dad did not get through, I was glad he didn’t pick on it. Alhamdulilah.

I cannot deny I felt some peace watching my sons having fun and running around happily. I sensed Beem’s sense of security every time he called for his dad, and I secretly kept hoping his father would live up to the father’s role in my sons’ life and that he would bond and make up for them for the past two years.

Generally, it was not straining for me. I was neutral; I was not angry or resentful, neither was I all sunshine and rainbow. I remained silent most of the ride and I barely had much to say unless it was about the kids; otherwise, whenever he tried to start small talk or befriend me, I pretended not to hear him and justified it by being tired and sleepy. My way of politely telling him that I didn’t want to talk.

I think he noticed how I quietly looked away whenever he tried to make eye contact. I think he also noticed I looked the other way whenever any of the past events were mentioned one way or the other; either by passing by a place that holds too many bad memories, or by him mistakenly mentioning something that has the wrong connotation. I still felt sick having to remember any of it.

I didn’t like how he kept asking if I was happy. I didn’t like how he tried to overdo the whole gentleman act either. Nonetheless, I did appreciate how we didn't have any physical contact and how he didn’t try to find excuses to make any. At least until he waited outside the door then held on to my hand for a while after the handshake was over. I never liked it when guys did that; it’s cheesy. I looked him in the eye as I pulled my hand a bit aggressively. I hope he got the message.


My mom is getting her hopes up that’s we’d be back. My sisters seem to have their own suspicions of his intentions and wondering how his next screw up would be like, I kinda have my own concerns as well. My father is avoiding the whole topic.

What’s upsetting me is that whenever I tell any of my friends what happened, I sound like I am defending the reason behind it and I feel like I have to clarify that NO I do not want back.

It’s really that simple; I agreed to let him meet with the boys because he has the right, getting a ruling from the court will only take time and it’s better for my kids' benefit that I do it amicably as long as I am not compromising any of my rights or security. It seemed to be a good idea given its effect on my boys.

Now, will I be considering a way back? HELL NO! He crushed me and my ability to trust in the whole notion of love. I am not devastated or heartbroken like I once thought I’d be, but my faith in love and marriage has forever been compromised.

As for him, I can’t look at him; I don’t even like looking at him. I don’t find anything he says interesting; in fact, most of the things he said the other day were extremely shallow and I would have normally grilled him with my ruthless sarcasm if I knew he could take it. So if I can’t look at him and I don’t find him interesting, not to mention the whole trust and respect issues I have clearly and repeatedly expressed on that blog, it is OVER.

According to the Egyptian norms, I am a crazy crazy woman.

I have been repeatedly told that I am making a big fuss out of something all men do and that any good wife belongs to her husband’s home. “Go home” they say, “you’ve already shown him your strength and made it clear that he cannot mistreat you and get away with it”. In addition to that, the man is a catch according to the lame Egyptian standards; he’s tall enough for me to never be his height no matter how high my heels are, he’s athletic, he has a career, drives a pricy car, and “shareeny”!!!!! Ya far7ety!!!!!!

Like all has been forgotten!!

Well I remember it all…

I remember how I first stumbled on each of his affairs…

I remember how my heart almost stopped the first time, I remember how hard I cried and I remember how abusive the confrontation was…

I remember that in the midst of all that I agreed to move out of the one home I ever belonged, so that his life would be easier and mine harder just to “be there for him” and “prove my love”…

I remember how my health kept deteriorating and how I kept going through one surgical procedure after the other, not to mention that my first c-section was due to severely high blood pressure which he caused in so many ways!

I remember how I made a huge fool out of myself forcing myself to believe his lies so that I can continue living with him only to stumble on more disturbing proofs of his lies…

I remember how my life turned to hell because I couldn’t trust him, and how humiliating it felt going through his messages and analyzing his words to find lies!

I remember how he finally stopped hiding his tracks and decided to do it all in the open and hide it by making me doubt my own sanity!

I remember wanting to die…

I remember the hospital fights, the worst postpartums, and the stitches that wouldn’t hold because of my constant sobbing!

I remember I almost caved in to all the pressures, and almost went back to him, more than once…

I remember each and every time I collapsed because I couldn’t…

I remember how angry he got because he couldn’t believe I rejected him after he “came clean”…

I remember the lies he said about me, lie after lie…

I remember how he said he no longer had kids, that they were dead to him, my kids…

I remember the ugliness that followed with his family showing their true color…

I remember my desperate cries and prayers and I remember very clearly the physical pain I went through in the process…

I remember how I managed to stand on my own two feet again, mostly with my father’s direct and indirect help and sometimes with my mom's and sisters', not to mention my friends…

I remember a lot of things that can make me angry all over again!! What people do not get is that the reason why I no longer get that angry is NOT because I am willing to go back; it’s because I realized I am too strong for him to break me and that I have nothing to fear of him.

I see how I bounced back, and I am proud of myself for it. I realize my losses and the damages he caused and I am ok with them. I have moved on, and knowing that, I can handle seeing him every day if I have to, as long as I am no longer his wife and I do not have to answer to him when it comes to my life.

It’s that simple, but people keep making their own assumptions about my feelings according to the expected behavior of women in my society, and the more I try to explain it, the more complicated it gets!! Look at how long that post have got when I tried explaining something so simple!!!

Sorry about that!

January 13, 2009

That’s the way it is, and that’s how it shall stay…

I have a serious temper problem…

I lose my temper very often. Judging by how people perceive me at work as a mellow person, I think I have worked on it a bit. But my old colleagues from my previous job knew my temper; my best friends of them say I was intimidating and that they always feared the moment when they might unintentionally get on my bad side.

At home, I don’t hold my temper at all, perhaps except with my father; the man has character and presence that scares the crap out of my temper I must admit. I get angry at my sisters a lot, but they have no idea how much I hold back, as if they don’t remember the old me!

My sons are the only reason I am trying to learn to control my temper; because I hate myself when I lose it with them.

I am stubborn, very stubborn…

I think it’s ok when I actually have a valid point, but truth is even if I don’t, I can still be pretty stubborn about it. On rare occasions, I respond to logic and reason, but even then, it has to be done in certain ways that most people are incapable of. When I am wrong, I admit to myself that I am, and I do my best to admit it to others, which brings me to the next point…

I am too proud…

I must admit to a very ridiculous extent. I HATE it when I ask for favors. The closer the person of which I am asking the favor is, the worse I feel having to ask for it.

I would rarely ever tell someone they hurt me; I am too proud to admit I was hurt, let alone put it in words. I resort to humor and sometimes sarcasm to cover up for my red eyes or my bad mood; I think I can even be offensive that way!

If I sense someone dislikes me, I stay as far as possible and I go to extremes to avoid them. I wouldn’t be caught dead feeling like I am forcing anyone to be around me.

Even with those I know like me, I hate being a burden; last summer when my best friend was visiting from the states, I passed by her grandma’s the day she arrived to say hi, hug and kiss (I know sounds just wrong), and then left her for a week without even calling so that she can catch up with her family without being pressured to go out and have a snack and catch up.

I am crystal clear…

… to a transparent extent. Some would say it’s a good thing, but the ones I don't like beg to disagree because I tend to be obnoxious when provoked (refer to my temper). If you still insist, keep reading and you’ll know how bad it gets!

My biggest flaw: I love too much, I care too much and hell I expect too much… keyword: TOO MUCH

If I love someone (not necessarily in the romantic sense) to the extent that I manage my temper, become less stubborn, get over my pride, and allow my emotions to show in the tiniest of things I do for that person, I am most likely to lose that person because of my expectations of him/her.

I won’t say I lost my x that way; da kan ghalta asasan, I literally chose the wrong person based on all the wrong criteria. But my violent reaction and my extreme change must have count for something I must say!

Anyway, I managed to lose quite a few people that way; one single mistake that gets under my skin; before I know it, it goes deep enough to my bones and the relationship is scarred for life.

Soon enough my previously mentioned flaws catch up with me. So I become too angry to listen to any possible explanations, too stubborn to understand any, too freakin’ proud to show how I'm extremely hurt; and consequently, too obnoxious to be dealt with, which of course will lead to me being the bad guy by showing the other person my ugly side.


That’s who I am. I have bad flaws, deadly ones if you may. But in my own twisted way, I manage to work around them and I would like to think that I make up for them. In my very own delusional way, I believe I am worth it (it could be my pride talking just as well).

So that’s it; I can’t change, and I won’t change because those flaws are only the bad side of a much better me who wouldn’t hold anything back when she cares.

If you can’t understand how I work and appreciate it, then go away, I most certainly don’t need your friendship; it means absolutely nothing to me.

If it’s any consolation, it hurts.

January 11, 2009


Sometimes, the fastest way to lose loved ones is by loving them to an extent where you start having expectations they can never meet.

This year, I lost two.

I know it’s a year because I remember being introduced to someone in January 2008 and those two were mentioned. I remember saying I loved those two so dearly that there was nothing in the world I wouldn’t give to them.

If I am asked the same question today, I’d say “they’re good people, God bless them” as I fight my tears and swallow that big lump.

I thought unloving my x was the hardest thing I had to do because he was “the one” or “the love of my life”! Obviously, that kind of love is overrated and it fades out when all the reasons cease to exist! Not to mention that the x went to extreme measures to earn his title as one hell of a jerk who has no ethics.

It hurts more to detach and disassociate from someone for whom you still care and love, and force yourself to stop caring, yet somehow still love them in a way!

It hurts much more when those people are decent and kind except that they still disappointed you in a way you can’t really handle!

It hurts to know that you might have caused it just as well.

It hurts in so many ways…

Because a part of you still wants to think it’s temporary, while the other part tell you it’s not, with proof…

Because you don’t know how to behave; pretend like nothing is wrong at least until you know you’re completely withdrawn, or show all the frustration and disappointment to ensure that there's no way back; that you won’t soften and get hurt further…

Hurt those once loved ones by telling them to their faces how you will no longer care, or let them hurt as they wonder what could have possibly happened to your relationship…

What hurts the most is that you keep asking “Did they notice? Does it hurt them too?” and you’re too scared to find out, because if the answer is yes, you’ll feel bad; however, you’ll feel much worse if the answer is no! and you can’t really stop wondering because you care.

It’s a sad and pathetic mixture of anger, disappointment, guilt, and linger… on top of all, you’re too proud to admit having that much conflict over a decision you've already made to preserve that pride!

January 8, 2009

Sick and Tired

Despite all my recent attempts, I am still officially depressed! I am too depressed to even rant about it!

I keep wondering what the point of anything is! Nothing changes for the better; ok, sometimes it does, but it’s for a short while and then it falls apart again, everything!

I don’t even have the energy to feel angry or cry; I am accepting the way things are and I am tired of fighting back, que sera sera.

So for the time being, I am sulking in bed, defying my insomnia and clinging to every trace of sleep I can get even if I can hear my mom ranting or my kids calling for me.

There is simply no point of trying to be better or making things better; if things won’t be better either way, then I can’t keep on trying, it’s too draining and I am all out of energy.

I’m sorry, I don’t have in me to keep pushing myself any further; it’s futile, and in the end, something will always crash and burn, so I better not get my hopes up or work hard for whatever it is I most probably won’t get.

I am not letting myself drown, I am just floating away to wherever the tides take me and I don’t care where that would be.