Fallen

I admit, I was righteous, a tight ass according to many, but in my righteousness I found my comfort. Even in my constant struggle to live up to my own high standards, I enjoyed my pride enjoyed winning every ethical challenge.

In my own utopia oblivion, I always believed that the one thing I should always do is what I think is right; I believed in the notion of “wrong is wrong, right is right” religiously; I never accepted any justification for wrong and I never thought people would disagree on what’s right. After being slapped around, I learned to tolerate wrong from people and have it in me to see their “false” justifications, but never from myself... condescending perhaps, but in the most tolerant way I knew!

This was how I nourished my pride; this was also how I kept my faith. I always believed that if I could live up to those standards with every challenge, I would definitely have it in me to accept all my misfortunes and I would be able to pray for God’s mercy in times of crisis. This was how I managed to be patient, strong, and confident; I used my pride and my stubbornness to hold on to who I thought I was, and when everything fell from around me, I held on even more tightly and stubbornly.

Until today.

All my righteous notions and phrases haunted me so mercilessly. Today, I learned the hard way that sometimes what I should do, is not what I think is right. I saw first hand how what I should do, as not-right/wrong as it is, is still justified and somehow right! I was shocked and hurt and confused and… hurt, majorly hurt.

Today, stretching the truth to its maximum was not a lie. Today, the thing I took pride in the most, my truthfulness, was compromised because that was what I honestly believed I should do. I stretched the truth because that was what I should do for the one I love the most. I could not look him in the eye and beg him to spare me because it would have been selfish of me to serve my pride over him… meh, I guess I am too proud to feel selfish anyway.

I shivered inside out… and I felt cold inside out… and I could see my surrounding blurry doing as I was told. I tried to block the feeling and its humiliation by remembering all the reasons and all the justifications; I held on -as tight as I know how- to the context that brought me there as the words rigidly got out of my mouth. I did it when in my heart I knew I will never look at myself in the mirror and feel as proud... and it still hurts too much that I will be too ashamed to ask my God to bless and protect me and those I love, because today I took it on my own to do so, and I know I am not half as strong as I ask my God to be for me.

“some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall”

I just wish I fell… I would like to believe that if it were really my choice and if it were only me who’d deal with consequences, I would have chosen to fall.

Today was a bad day for me, for my stupid notions and my foolish foolish pride. Today, I only felt fear and shame, and that was a worse fall.

Such a shame…

I hear those words a lot, “such a shame”…

When people look at me and realize I’m a divorcee, they shake their heads and very bluntly imply it...

“You’re young, too young to be a mother and a divorcee already…”

And it’s worse when they see my babies; you see, as annoying as my kids can be, they’ve been blessed with some sort of charm that I can’t really understand… it could be Beem’s radiant smile or Mocha’s big brown eyes that steal people’s hearts away!

And when they know they belong to a single mother and an absent father, they shake their heads even harder and say it with such disbelief and disappointment…

“Such beautiful kids, such a shame, la 7awla wala quawata ella b’Ellah”

Those words are not necessarily said; they don’t need to be, they are too loud in their eyes that it deafens me and disturbs my peace!

And the thoughts explode in my head…

It hurts to see my kids loving someone so unworthy, it hurts to see them getting so attached to someone who’s only there for them to get to me and make me pay for breaking free and doing it with my head up high without any sense of regret or defeat that would satisfy his sick ego.

It hurts me that I am not able to fight back and play as dirty to stop him, that I can’t get back at him because I worry about my kids’ wellbeing!

Now that’s a shame…

To have that much anger, hate and resentment for someone and not be able to use it to hurt him and cause him as much irreversible damage as he caused…

It’s such a shame to hold on to my ethics and upbringing, stick to right and refrain from wrong when every cell of my body is screaming “PAYBACK”

It’s such a shame to feel that much rage and yet still listen to that frail voice telling me that everything evens up at the end and that he will pay one day, and that he’ll pay dearly!

Right now, that’s not really enough…. I don’t want him to pay one day, I want him to pay NOW! I don’t want him to wonder what he could have possibly done to deserve the pain and agony I wish him; I want him to know it’s because of what he’s done to me and to those boys and spend the rest of his days trying to think of ways to fix it hoping his pain would stop…

It may sound like I want revenge, but all I really want is justice, poetic justice, the kind they spoke of in fairytales and fables, the kind I should be old enough to know does not exist…

Such a shame!

A not so welcomed déjà vu!

Listening to Nina Simone’s strong deep blue voice, I lay in bed as I try to recall the day and figure out what it was that got to me that way.

So what? I spent yet another day unable to avoid him as we took the boys to the pool. As usual, he tried to say and do all the things that he knows get under my skin and I pretended not to be bothered as I shot back my share of insults at his character. Pretty much an average Friday out with him!

I am grateful to how he keeps ensuring me that I made the right decision choosing to leave him, but I wish I never had to see him again and I honestly wish my kids didn’t need a father. I feel like I did something horrible bringing them into this world with such a person, he doesn’t deserve them or the way they love him! Touché!

I keep remembering everything trying to point my finger at what shook me so hard…

We drove by so many places that held not so pleasant memories; it made me more receptive to his attempts to ruin my mood. Or was it the other way around; perhaps he he said or did something that made me receptive to remembering all those bad memories!

He was mean to her on the phone. I don’t feel the least bit sorry for her. He said he was into someone else now, someone new! It made him see how he doesn’t want to be with her.

He made me hear him talk to her as he implied those meanings so bluntly and so coldly… and I remembered. I remembered the resemblance between the way he talked to her and the way he talked to me, I remembered.

I didn’t feel sorry for her, but I felt sorry for me, all over again! And I hated the way I felt back then, and I hate it now twice as much.

Later, on our way home he said he was not in love with the new one. He said he was drawn to her because she was “angelic” and that he knew she’d make a good wife. He said he knew he wouldn’t have her outside of a marriage. It sounded familiar.

I found myself those words when he asked me what I thought of it all “you don’t deserve angelic, if she is really as good as you say, then I hope she sees you for who you are soon enough, lest you will only ruin her chances of having a good life with someone who actually deserves her… otherwise, I just hope she’s like you”

Yeah that’s probably it; he ruined my chances as well as my kids’.

I wish him no happiness and no peace for he simply denied me mine.

Ignorance and Prejudice, two sides of the same coin!

That happened around three weeks ago, and it popped into my mind today as I was driving to work. I just had to rant about it before it festered and gave me emotional poison!

“you know them, you know how they think 7egab is bee2a” said by my good friend of 16 years!

She’s been married for a while now, her husband is more on the religious side than her mother’s family; he had asked her not to wear swimwear where men could see her and not have her hair cut by men. He also said he’d love it if she gets veiled but he’d never really ask her to do it because it’s her decision.

She started dressing rather modestly; no more shorts or sleeveless tops to put his mind at ease. Her mom noticed how she’s been dressing up so differently and told her point black “enty mesh hatet7ageby, mayenfa3sh, ana olt mesh hatet7ageby”.

She was telling me how she wants to get veiled to please her husband and to stop her family from asking why she no longer swims when they go to the beach, but she’s dreading their reaction because they think veil is not classy!!

It actually felt a slap to my face in so many ways! Not from my friend, I know where she stands from veil; I know she respects it but just doesn’t think she’s ready to wear it. She’s one of the most tolerant people I’ve known and most of our mutual friends are veiled… hell, I am veiled and I know she proudly refers to me as her best friend.

I just resented her family twice as much as I already did. Those people have been pressuring her into a life style she was never able to keep up with because they view everything religious as “bee2a”! I am not saying they’re ill mannered or generally unethical; all I am saying is that the only way they’d positively judge a “religious” group of people would be if they were filthy rich, but in a classy way, whatever that’s supposed to mean!!

I’ve always known her mom never liked me because she first heard of me when I had gotten veiled; you see, tant lived away from my friend to make the money which she keeps bringing up whenever they quarrel, so she never had the chance to know about her school friends!

Yes, I am being judgmental because that woman had done nothing to make her daughter’s life easier except send money and then rub it in her face!! Yes, I am being judgmental of that same classy woman who kicked her own daughter more than once for the most trivial of reasons! The woman didn’t even see that my bee2a veil had never influenced her kid in anyway, that her daughter and I manage to go out together and have fun despite how different our attire is! How shallow can one be?!

And don’t get me started on her brother! I’ve stumbled on the guy so many times and he never recognized me, not that I'd stop and say hi! To him, I am invisible. Of course I didn’t make it easier for him to recognize me because my defense mechanism had picked up on his prejudice and I ignored him back twice as much.

The same guy –to whom people refer as sociable and friendly- had small talk with the x when he met him in a business presentation because the x drives an expensive car and does the “classy guy” talk (Rasha, please try to not throw up!). When he told him he was Inso’s husband, the guy sat there trying to put a face next to the name and he couldn’t until the x said “your sister's best friend”, and I bet even then he didn't remember my face. I asked my friend if her bro had actually met the x and she laughed and said “you know my bro, he’d talk to an ass wearing a brand and driving an expensive car - he is sort of the ass who wears a brand name and drives an expensive car, only he’s my brother and I love him, and of course if he was trying to land a deal with your ass of an x, he’d be even nicer!”

Now, I am not judging people who do not practice religion; I am not the best practice-r by any means, I don’t even consider myself religious enough. What’s pissing me off is the ignorance and the prejudice over something that’s supposedly no one’s business! I’ve known people who live in the least “religious” ways, yet somehow have it in them to respect those who practice their faiths! I know of atheists who remind their religious friends of prayers! It’s called tolerance!

And for whatever it’s worth, I resent the idea that hegab is in anyway not classy! I mean, I believe I dress nicely, and I am very particular about how my scarves match what I wear not just color-wise, but also style-wise and fabric-wise! When H got veiled and people asked her why she did it, she said “I always thought of wearing it, but I was held back by the thought that it would be hard to dress as nicely once I get veiled, but seeing who Inso does it so easily, it made me feel silly for ever thinking that way”

I won’t say that all my friends do not wear hegab, but I will sure as hell say that I have friends who do not wear it whom I love and respect for who they are, not what they choose or do not choose to wear!! We like/dislike people based on their personalities and how they treat us, it is that simple, and why do people insist on complicating it?!

And again, it is always those people; the ones who are always speaking religion, or those who are always blabbering about liberalism! AGAIN, you guys suck!

And to my dearest friend, do not wear hegab just yet; I think you should only wear it when you’re not worried about any reactions be it the happy husband or the mad mother, brother and aunt! Either way, you’re a beautiful person who makes my world a much better place and that will not change.

I just couldn’t help myself anymore!

I have no idea if my fluctuating blood pressure is ruining my mood, or is it the other way around! All I know is that I found myself having this conversation!

Him: *walking slowly behind as he was talking to her over the phone and leaving me handle the boys all on my own*
Me: *looking at him and saying in an annoyed tone* could you please help me with the boys and leave that phone for a while!
Him: *giving me attitude* I am on the phone now!
Me: you can call her in 20 minutes after we drop you off, I am too darn tired!
Him: *rather yelling* I am watching my kids and taking care of them that way, but I am on the phone!
Me: *getting too angry and making sure she hears me*you cannot yell at me that way in front of your bitch!
Him: *disbelief*
Me: *walking faster and grabbing the boys as I was getting REALLY angry for losing my temper that way*

As I was putting the football in the trunk, my son had jumped out of the car while I was closing the trunk and it was stuck. For a second there, I thought I hit his arm with the door and I freaked. Meanwhile, he was still on the phone!

Me: *yelling* BEEM edkhol el 3arabeya la teddereb ba2a!
Him: *finally wrapping up the call and coming closer* gara eh ya (my name) malek 3asabeya leh we bettala3eeh 3al walad?!
Me: *trying to contain the temper* malaksh da3wa beya khales!!!

We got into the car…

Him: *in a rather scolding tone* ya3ne enty lama teegy tetgawezy, would you like me to show such disrespect of your future husband?!!
Me: *making sure all our dialogue is in English so that the kids wouldn’t grasp much* if I am ever to get married, he’d know better than to consume that much time on the phone when I am out trying to spend time with my kids!
Him: ya3ne mateteselsh beya 3ashan ento ma3aya???
Me: tetssel da motawaqa3 menha, but you should know better than to let it take that long!
Him: and what’s with the name calling?!
Me: she’s a bitch, here, I said it again!
Him: e7termy nafsek
Me: B.I.T.C.H BITCH!! And that’s the most decent word I can think of given that she was married when she had an affair with you while you had a son and your wife was pregnant BITCH!! Otherwise, her husband wouldn’t have left her!
Him: tetkalem bera7etha, she’s my fiancé now
Me: well then, maybe you should choose between talking to her on the phone and being with my kids at the same time!
Him: telephone eh, babaky is always on the phone!
Me: my dad lived with us all our lives, he didn’t see us once a weekend!!
Him: he spends every weekend in Alex because he can’t stand….
Me: *interrupting* SHUT UP! My father is a much better man than you’ll ever be, so I don’t think it’s in your favor to even mention him…
Him: *with a VERY sarcastic tone* ok your father is a great man, I am not a great man…
Me: *with more anger than I could handle* you’re not a man, period!
Him: nazeleeny hena
Me: *pulling over* enzel

I’ve never been that rude, and I hate that it happened in front of their boys and I hate him so damn much for pushing me that far!!!

I didn’t want to ruin the day for the boys, so I took them out all day and we visited my friend H and they had so much fun with her baby. I still feel guilty nonetheless.

And when the anger subsides...

this is exactly how I feel; every note and every word. I feel tired, I feel old, and I feel sad. I don't know if it's causing my anger or caused by it, but I know it's how I feel now.

I will bounce back, I always do...

Until then, enjoy the music!

Why doesn't revenge taste so sweet?

Did I ever mention that I find vengeance to be one of the most interesting notions? It is; it’s such a drive that has its very own strong momentum and it can just drag for years and years, and like it or not it’s behind a lot of good plots be it in reality or fiction.

Is it a co-incidence that most of my favorite movies revolve around the consuming idea of vengeance. When I first read A Tale of Two Cities, as appalled as I was by Madame De Farge’s unforgiving pursuit of Charles Darnay and his family, deep down, I couldn’t help but sympathize for the amount of injustice she’s been subjected to which completely changed her into what she’s become. You must react to that kind of hurt and feel for it even if it turns into something so cruel.

When I read The Count of Monte Cristo, I was satisfied with Edmond’s revenge and it was as if I was getting my own. Yes, I believe in payback and it in its healing power just as I believe in the destruction it could cause to all parties.

I could go on and on about vengeance and how I think it could be legitimate, as well as when I think it went to an uncontrollable extreme, but I’m not sure I’d come up with something any more brilliant than all the things that’s been previously written. Just take my word for it, revenge is a very strong thing and it’s anything simple or marginal; it’s also the thought that came to mind as I started writing this.

Where do I begin, I’m sure a lot of those who read this know where it started, or at least are familiar enough. Nonetheless, I find it hard to write this coherently because if I do it will be too long for me to write and it might get more personal than I can afford, so it will just be bits and pieces, and I’ll leave it to your imagination to fill in the details.

I once told him I’d break him to pieces if he’d ever hurt me that way again. I looked him right in the eyes saying I’d destroy him and he’d see a side of me neither of us knew existed. I guess he knew me better then because he never believed; he hurt me anyway! When the time came for me to use everything I could possibly know against him, I just couldn’t. I am not saying I am a better person here, I am not; because I spent enough time thinking of how I could harm him, and there came times when I was very close to doing it, I just didn’t know if I had it in me to live with myself and whatever consequences there were to come.

Some time long after I got over my shock and my agony, I stumbled into a movie, Something’s Gotta Give. At the end, when Jack Nicholson goes all the way to Paris to win Diane Keaton back, only he finds her there with Keanu Reeves (EWWWW). There is that moment where they’re singing her happy birthday and she’s laughing so happily in Keanu’s arms (EWWWW again), and you can see the way Nicholson looking at her an you can almost hear him thinking “that should have been me holding her”. That was when I decided that the only revenge I could get without being a horrible person was to see that very same look on his face. I wanted him to see me living happily, enjoying the life he can no longer share with me.

I forced myself to move on and be stronger just to have that moment. I glorified the feeling I’d get and used it as a motive to get myself up, dust myself off, and start all over again. I can’t deny that I have a relationship phobia or that I have so little faith in love. I can’t deny that in the process of moving on, I almost stumbled and fell, and that I still look back and wonder what the hell happened back there. I always end up shaking my head and saying it didn’t matter; I was never ready and it was never meant to be. Little by little, it started to be less about my revenge moment and more about just getting by day after the other.

Now, that we’re on talking basis again, I see him quite often. He very occasionally hints that he still wants me back and that I’m better off with him than with anybody to the extent that I find it insulting because WOW, if I’m better off with him then I’m really bound to misery! Seeing him, talking to him and having to communicate with him amicably for the boys’ sake, I realized I’m actually capable of being a bigger person, something I never thought I could do! It’s not that I am not that forgiving or that I am vindictive by nature; it’s just because I distinctively remember how hurt I was and how the idea of revenge helped me get back on my feet, or close enough.

Yesterday, I took a leap of growing up. I agreed (without much argument) to have the kids visit his grandma before her surgery. I did that knowing there will be all sorts of people I dislike there. I wasn’t that pleasant except to the one person in his family that’s been decent to me, and the sick person to whom I couldn’t really afford beingharsh, given her age and her health status despite how much I dislike her. I could clearly see how embarrassed he was when his kids didn’t know his own immediate family and were too intimidated to let go of my hands, I actually felt sorry for him and kneeled on my knees as I tried to soothe the boys and tell them to go say hi to people I don’t even like. I don’t know, I really surprise myself at times.

Today, I had that moment I had almost forgotten that I once wanted! I just did a while ago. It wasn’t face to face, and I didn’t have a Keanu to hold me (THANK GOD), only I didn’t think it brought as much comfort as I once thought it would.

He apologized, he acknowledged his faults and he said I was never the bad person he worked so hard to make it sound like.

He said he was lonely and with all that money could buy him, he couldn’t find someone who loved him the way he knew I once did.

He said he was miserable, and it was eating him up that he can no longer see that love in my eyes, and that the best he could hope for was indifference.

He said he found some of my last journals from before I left, and that he read how I gradually lost hope in him, and he couldn’t believe he had become that person he himself detested as he read on.

I wanted to stop him because it sounded too sincere and I didn’t want him to put himself out there when I knew I was going to reject him at the end of his speech. Only he wouldn’t let me, he said his apology was due and it was hard enough for him to apologize so I should just let him.

Why didn’t I feel the warmth and fuzziness I promised myself all those two years? Why did I not smile contently that he’s sorry and suffering? Why did I not find solace in his misery and regret?

I have two theories; it’s either because I have more damage than him only it wasn’t my own doing like it is in his case, or because I have taken my time healing on my own, I no longer need any revenge from him. I don’t think it’s either, at least not exclusively.

Either way, his apology didn’t bring that much of a victory I long anticipated! In the contrary, it brought confusion because as he spoke of good things we once shared, I found my mind drifting to the horrible things that happened and took all the good away. He spoke of memories that were no longer so vivid and it confused me even more to be caught between resentment and sympathy for the same person.

I really wish we could write the words “The End” now, and that we can manage to be good to each other outside the marriage just for the sake of the kids. He still says it’s too hard for him to let me go, but I would like to think he would after all is clear enough to him. He thinks I might change my mind given time, but he doesn’t get that the more time I spend with him, the more I realize we were not a good match like I once thought and that there is nothing in the world that would make me repeat the mistake of choosing to be with him.

At the end of the day, I am glad and grateful I am not in his shoes and I do not have his burdens or his guilt. I realize that it is a blessing that I am not enjoying my revenge because it means that there is something in me he couldn’t change. Did that make any sense?

Unresolved emotional issues

When I was little, I remember barely crying in front of people. I don’t remember or understand why, I just know that whenever I wanted to cry I’d hide from people. Of course, it was always obvious that I cried; I am that transparent, people always knew I was crying, but I always took consolation that they didn’t see me cry.

I was once surprised when one of my school buddies joked saying that I cry so easily; he’d never seen me cry! He said I turn too red, my eyes shine too much he can clearly see the tears, and then I disappear, he said it happened a lot especially when I was angry.

In college, I was only seen crying twice, once after a burst at class, I stormed in the washroom and broke something and started crying. The second time was the day after my late nana died and I went to college for a presentation, right before I started it, I had an argument with a professor and I just couldn’t contain the grief and the anger.

I cried on my wedding day; seeing my dad choking on words and fighting his own tears, seeing my in-laws and how annoying they seemed to be talking about things that do not compare to what my daddy was going through made me want to cry. When D walked towards me to give me a congratulations hug, I told her to hold on to me until I could hold back the tears because I was so determined not to cry, God bless her.

My x was the person who had seen me cry the most; I lived with him for five years. Sometimes for him, sometimes because of him, sometimes he was there and well, I trusted him with my tears even when he caused them. He would have anyone believe that I do nothing but cry, that I have constant emotional outbursts, and he might be right! I just don’t have someone to serve much as a second opinion because no one lived with me that long and the few who had seen me cry are too graceful to complain about it.

Today, I cried. It wasn’t anything special, but it made me think of all the above, it made me reflect on so many things, and the more I realized about myself, the harder I found myself sobbing…

The people I don’t care for, they can NEVER make me cry. There is a thick wall between them and me; however, the only way they can get through is when they make me angry. Anger makes me want to harm them, a punch in the face would do, but neither am I the violent type (even with that temper), nor am I capable of inflicting harm, which makes me feel extremely helpless when dealing with that anger; hence, I cry.

The people I care for, they make me cry so easily and they see me cry so often! This is why I’ve been avoiding most of my friends lately whenever I am feeling blue; I don’t want to burden them, I don’t want to bore them with my emotional crap. I have troubles saying the things I feel to people’s faces, I’ve been working on my emotional expression and I can fairly say I am progressing, with my own terms that is. However, when I am crying, my emotional blabber comes with sobs and incoherent phrases, and I can never risk letting that much out when I have least control over it.

That being said, it confuses me that I cried today because of someone I no longer care for. It is not even the first time; I see it coming every time, and it gets to me every single time! You would think that this happening too often would make me less vulnerable, would make me more able to handle it now that I can predict it, think again! The whole anger and helpless theory does not serve given how often and how predictable the provocation is.

And before you jump to conclusions, it’s not the x. It’s someone whom I don’t have the power to cut off my life yet gets (and has gotten) to influence it big time. I would like to think I have tried working my issues with that person before I declare that I have miserably failed. I would like to say that underneath my anger, I might still care, but I have come to peace with myself accepting that I don’t care.

Ok, I am not sure where I stand emotionally from that person; it’s too confusing. I have strong resentful feelings for that person; everything about them gets on my nerves making me feel like I would wanna beat myself dead before having to spend more time with them! I have come to the realization that the saner choice is to not care, that obsessing over the issue and trying to resolve it will only keep getting to me that perhaps one day I might wake up to find myself another version of that person. I am so scared of one day becoming like that person, one of my biggest horrors.

I just want to know how to block that person out, how to stop them from getting to me that way from ruining every moment of peace I get. I am tired of feeling that way and I am tired of reacting the same way over and over again! I wish I could say more about this but I have just dealt with the whole marriage ending issues, I can’t deal with that now.

So, advice anyone?

Egypt… bigotry hidden under thick layers of religious and liberal pretences

Coming from a religiously conservative family, I was brought up to take extra pride in my faith, even though I did not necessarily understand it enough to practice it properly. Almost everyone in my family (from both sides) has a meaningful name influenced by religion.

My dad gave my sisters and me very unique names that make people go “ohhhh” when they know our names; they are simple, short and have quite the religious significance.

Mine however is not exclusively Islamic, it goes back to Jewish origins; a fact which makes it easier to pronounce than my sisters’. My father’s name on the other hand is esm morrakab; meaning, he has two names to count as a first name, more like the western verion of middle names, only everyone I know acknowledges his second name since the first is Mohamed, which is pretty common in our culture.

Until college, I used to go by my first name and my father’s middle name. That combination made my name sound perfectly neutral; people couldn’t guess my religion and accordingly treated me cautiously in fear of offending me.

I won’t go through with the whole issue of whether religious tolerance exists in Egypt or not; it’s fair to say that some people (either Christians or Muslims) are tolerant of the other religion, while some others simply aren’t. As a child, it was confusing, and it led to a huge deal of misconceptions that took me quite some time to overcome (not in a traumatizing way though).

I resented by name, because it made people ask me too many questions. I really wanted a simpler name that did not raise so much questions and wonderings before people started getting comfortable.

Until I got veiled!

I was confronted by how cruel society can be, judging people by their looks. I realized that my neutral name and non-significant appearance shielded me from awkward moments. I realized it was a blessing having been treated with extra caution!

And no, it’s not the expected group of people who judged me, whatever that is. Against the general assumption, I travelled to the US the next summer, and I barely had any troubles because of my veil. Average Americans, aside from the “notorious” political agenda (which is not up to me to support or condemn), do not judge people based on their looks the way people do in Egypt (and perhaps the Middle East). We are such racists and bigots and the sad part is that we hide it under thick layers of fake religiousness and liberalism which we barely practice when unwatched.

Please meet those who judge me…

- Strictly religious Muslims who consider what I wear not hijab, and expect me to dress more modestly, and
- Pseudo-Liberals, either Christians or Muslims who seem to be very appalled by my veil!

Now I won’t go defending my choice or my religion because I don’t think those who judge me or my likes would either understand or appreciate what I have to say. All I can say is “SHAME ON YOU”, both parties.

“Religious Muslim Practicers”, you should know that “الأعمال بالنيات”, you should know that “الدين يسر، و ليس عسر”, you should “بشروا و لا تنفروا”, and if I am that offensive to look at, you can totally “غض البصر”!!

And “Liberals”, shame shame shame, the people who had passed the “liberal heritage” to you fought for big notions like “freedom of choice” that should be accepted without consequences, but what can I say, you were obviously never involved in such fights and simply cannot appreciate the trophy, freedom!!

I find both parties hypocrites, who miserably fail practicing what they preach and give their causes a horrible horrible names.

It used to hurt and offend me when I felt mistreated because of my veil, but then I realized something; it’s a unique way of blocking all the fakers and pretenders who can’t handle but judge me based on my appearance rather than my personality. To those people, I say it’s really your loss, touché!

Looks like it won’t end soon…

Another silly text message from him and his timing couldn’t be worse; a couple of hours after I posted the previous post and watched a disturbing movie.

He’s basically telling me he had just visited a friend of his who got married months ago and just had a baby. He was saying how his friend, whom he failed to mention his name –which makes me assume I don’t even know the guy- was sending his greetings to the wife, me. He was describing how his friend was telling his own family how my x is such a “moltazem w gad w mo7taram”! if I didn’t know better, I’d say he’s making it up, but I know how very few of the people he calls friends know him enough to know he’s none of the three, because moltaza w gad w mo7taram is certainly not what got us here.

I wonder what he told his “friend” when asked a simple question like “weladak 3amleen eh?”, I mean obviously he did not reveal that he’s separated and has not seen his kids for a year now, since Beem barely said a few words and since Mocha was a newborn!! Has he no shame whatsoever! He’s congratulating a “friend” for being a father while pretending he’s one himself! People’s pretenses never fail to shock and appall me; his pretenses have a bigger effect.

It makes me angry when part of the truth hits me; that he mainly wants me back to maintain the image of the successful young man who has it all; the presentable wife, the adorable kids, and the career! As if I’m his silly watch or the expensive shades, like this is my worth, or my kids’ for that matter. His shallowness feels humiliating because I have more self worth than that, a self worth that I have come to realize once I stepped away and realized he was the reason I lost my faith in me, as well as in everything else. Ironic.

I can only hope it hits him one day when he does not find himself surrounded by people who feed his sick ego, when he can look in the mirror and see past those pretenses, that between him and himself he would know how he lost the wife and the kids and to what. Knowing him, I know he’d always find things to say to make him the good guy so that his image wouldn’t judge him. Nonetheless, I always hope that one day he would fail and somehow see himself for what he really is. A failure, as a husband and as a father.

The urge to curse…

Every time, every single time I find myself in peace with all the things I dislike about my current status, something happens –as tiny as could be- that troubles my peace!

Today I was cleaning up my yahoo account since it has more junk than actual emails, when I stumbled on three emails from the notorious jerk I am still married to on paper. Two of which are of job offers her thinks I might be interested in! seriously! Reading one of those descriptions I had a strong urge to reply with one crude and extremely inappropriate email. This person has such an amazing ability to awaken all the anger of which I thought I have let go!

The last email was a real piece of work though! It was with the subject “Happy Birthday to ME” and dated a day after his birthday. I overlooked a single detail, our wedding date was one day before his birthday, and it was a stupid sentimental thing I once thought of when we were in love, now it just disgusts me at the entire month! Anyway, el zareef el khafeef was wishing me a “saba7eya mubarka” and whining over the fact that “his kids” and I did not wake him up on his birthday with a call!! I can’t even seem to find the proper words to describe him anymore!!!!

And of course, just like the typical pseudo-good-doer he is, he had to end his email with a precious piece of advice: “please attend to amending Beem’s name in the birth certificate before he joins school to avoid further complications when military service if of an issue”. It’s a silly thing, and all the lawyers we have both consulted, in addition to those who work in the relevant official offices mocked him for his ridiculous paranoid thoughts. Thing is, my name is missing a “Mohamed” right before my family name in its written form in my son’s birth certificate, basically because the same “Mohamed” was missing in our marriage certificate; however, it’s present in my new ID. Big freakin’ deal!!!

I couldn’t help but get angry over his condescending tone, over his pretense –or perhaps belief- that injustice has been bestowed on him, over his silly joke, over his hidden –or not so hidden- implications that it’s ok for him to not be a part of his children’s life! The last one irritates me the most because I know I am totally ok with it, only I think they, my kids deserve much better than being discarded, even if by a piece of crap like him. Oh God, I’d wish they’d hate him, but I know how consuming hate can be… I just wish they’d grow up to be indifferent of him, and I hope it would bring him more pain than he could possibly overcome.

I find it ugly and hateful of me to wish him such misfortunes, but he left no kindness in my heart as far as he’s concerned. I do not wish him well, and I hate that I don’t have it in me to do so, but I am accepting it because I think it’s the only way to be ok with here and now.

And there it goes again…

He called today. He called from a number I did not recognized so I answered. I had the same feeling I get whenever he calls; anger, disgust and hate. He’s the same person who makes me feel sick, that I could tell even though his words were different. He wants a civil divorce; he says all my rights and those of my kids’ are granted except for sha2et el 7adana. He said I could consult whomever I want and that it was not a limited time offer like he previously mentioned. He said he wants a clean ending. Call me whatever; I want to believe him… I need to believe him.

His words made me cry. I kept crying as he went on and on over the phone saying the same things he usually says. My friend says he knows me well; I say he never knew me, he just knows how to hurt me, and he’s really good at it. I cried because I saw snippets of my past seven years, I felt them slipping away and I realized my loss when I didn’t feel his. I kept crying, until I could just take no more, so I gathered all my strength to maintain an indifferent tone as I said “khalas, I get your point, I’ll talk to my dad and my lawyer and get back to you”. He said “kol sana wenty wel welad tayebeen wel osra be kheir, salemeely 3al welad le7ad mab2a ashofhom”

I talked to my dad while we were in the car going to his cousin’s for iftar. I told him I needed to go through with that civil divorce he suggested, I told him that we could talk to my lawyer and arrange all the documents that need to be signed in order to make sure he won’t take back any of his promises. My dad was too cynical to buy any of his words, and he was too rigid to let go of the whole apartment thing. He says it’s my right to have that apartment, even though he insists that I do not move out and even though he had already decided I would not step foot in it! He says it’s a matter of right and wrong and that it’s 7a2 adaby!

I usually confirm with such ideal notions my dad speaks of, but excuse me, I am too tired to maintain that status. I need closure, I need it more than anyone could guess. I am willing to waive all my rights, I am even willing to consider waiving those of my kids as well to get it. Call me selfish, but I need my closure, I NEED IT. Why can’t I have it when he seems to have already had his. I don’t think I will be waiving a right; that apartment is his, and I know that in a perfect world, it would be my kids’; but it’s not a perfect world, why don’t we all wake up and smell the stench!

It’s called sha2et 7adana. My right to live in it ends when my custody rights end. It’s a temporary right that I don’t even want; it’s not worth me remaining in this mess one minute longer. I cried again as I talked to my dad. This time I cried because I could tell that his sense of right and wrong was keeping him from seeing my desperate need for closure. At the end of the conversation I made him promise that he would at least discuss it with my lawyer and that the conversation would take place in my presence.

I know my x is one hell of a liar, and I know it could be one of his tricks. But like I said, I need to believe that he meant it when he said he wanted a civil divorce; if that makes me an idiot, then I’m guilty as charged… I am an idiot, a tired and a confused idiot who wants out at any cost.

Like it would ever mean anything to you…

I know I am expected to see you in the upcoming days; be it the court ruling that you see the kids or whatever it is you might try to do to crash into Beem’s birthday, although I know you’re too much of a coward to do the latter.

I don’t want to see you; God knows, your face and everything about you disgust me and fill me with a strong urge to throw up. Nonetheless, I am looking forward to it. I have a few words I would like to tell you face to face and see their effect on you. I want to see that fake hurt look that I know hides more rage than you could possibly convey as I go on saying the words I so carefully choose so that they hit where I know you’d be sore. Yes, I know your wounds the same way you know mine, and because of everything that’s been going on in my life, I have decided to blame you instead of me for a change, even if someday you were my choice.

Except that my friends -my good friends who know how my tone of voice betrays me when I start getting all angry as I speak of what you’ve done, and how my face turns all red and how my body starts shaking like I’m having a seizure- tell me it will only make me vulnerable to whatever you might have to say in reply. They tell me my words will not get through to your sick twisted mind and that you might actually mistake all the above for care or unresolved feelings.

So here it goes…

Since the night you sat me down and tried to brainwash me into thinking that it was all me, that I’ve been such a horrible horrible wife who have driven you into a dirty affair, since that night I’ve been constantly judging myself. All through that past year, fragments of our life together keep flashing in my head whenever I see quite simple things that happen through regular ordinary days, like couples fighting, like me standing in a crowd upright because there is no shoulder to lean on, or someone of those who know about it telling me that I am definitely too good for you. I would remember our small fights, and even our big ones and I would remember that even when I gave my worst reactions, the ones I would take back, I never offended you as a husband. Even when my tone of voice got too high for your inflated macho ego, even when I gave opinions that sounded more like orders to your insecure self, even when I kept crying and looking the other way as you said your lame sorry’s… I never disrespected you. My sisters and my mother implied on so many occasions that perhaps I might have, but between you and me, you know better. You know I stood by your side literally though thick and thin; I won’t name the incidents because it’s not like me, but you know each and everyone of them, not out of gratitude, but out of your hidden inferiority.

All through that time, whenever people from which I am distant tell me “… but there must have been good days”, I nod and murmur “of course there was…” only I no longer remember those. I know they must have existed but, I am sorry the things you’ve done, the horrible pain I somehow still feel under thick layers of pretense that I have recovered, make it impossible for me to focus on one good memory. The few times I could actually do that, tears came rushing from my eyes, because I couldn’t remember the specific moment, I just remembered it felt warm and felt like home, and then I remembered none of it was real… how could it have possibly been real? If it were, you would have left me before you had it in you to hurt me that way. And another thought haunts me… what if it was real? The thought that it could have actually been real will forever haunt me and scare me from ever feeling that way again. Thanks to you, my heart is crippled and my faith in romantic relationships is entirely shaken for you have forever tainted my perception of love and marriage, I resent you for that.

I tried; God knows I tried to tell my self that perhaps you’re a good person, and that all this is a result of a mad chain reaction of anger, stubbornness, and people getting in the middle. I tried so hard to tell myself that there’s a good person in there who would respond to my sincere pleads to end things in a civil way, but obviously that person is another figment of my disturbed imagination, just like the whole persona of you for which I have once fallen.

You’re not a good person; you have no morals or ethics or conscience. انت معندكش حتى كرامة و لا نخوة و لا أي حاجة من اللي بيوصفوا بيها أخلاق الرجالة. No man, no true man would do that to his wife no matter how horrible she was. No man would abandon a wife he has repeatedly abused, humiliated and badmouthed to people, and then refuse to let her go, but rather leave her that way in an… an unmarried/undivorced status. No man would find honor or manhood in such behavior. You and your likes give men such bad bad name. This is the exact thought that comes to mind every single time I am filling an application where I have to identify my marital status.

I would say you give fathers a bad name too, but I wouldn’t call you a father to begin with. You call and send text to tell me you would like to participate in whatever birthday arrangement I plan for Beem, seriously???? We ya tara hatsharek be eh, be ta3atofak, since we’re in Ramadan?!!! Is that supposed to make any sense? That you want to be a part of a birthday plan when you don’t even know what your sons look like now, that you would not recognize them if they pass you by in the street?!! You want me to buy that you would chip in a party and buy a gift that would dazzle a 3 year-old when you never bothered to support him or his brother financially for over a year now!!! And don’t even dare mentioning the lame a** alimony that wouldn’t cover one eighth of one kid’s expenses. And don’t say I sent clothes, you know the crap you sent and for whatever its worth, I sent it back, perhaps you need the money you would return them for, because I know my kids don’t need them. I thank God a million times they don’t need your gifts or your money, and I hope they never ever need them or you for that matter.

I wanted to tell you, I had to tell you that I spend a lot of time reliving the past year day by day. And in every moment I see phantoms of us reliving painful moments of hate, I realize it’s never really been me, and that it’s been you, all you. I am not denying my own share of mistakes, I admit them, and I won’t even justify them by saying they were unintended because I have sincerely apologized when I thought an apology was due, I paid my dues, one after another. My biggest mistakes however remain; choosing you, believing you, enduring you, doubting my instincts, shunning my doubts, and giving you the other cheek even when I did it knowing you’d slap me even harder… you’ve shown me the weakest version of me, and my biggest mistake was that I let you.

I’ve been thinking it through and through, trying to know where I went wrong and learn from my mistakes, but I somehow realized that it’s impossible to learn from those mistakes. I would not know which mistakes not to repeat in an argument with a loved one or a spouse because I am not sure I can ever give my heart or my name in marriage to anyone once I break free from your chains. My fear of choosing wrong or being blinded by love would forever stop me from being in a situation where I might repeat any of those mistakes.

So if that’s why you don’t want to let me go, to make sure I won’t move on and give my love to whoever would deserve and appreciate it, rest assured. Trust me, the wounds and the scars are way too much for anyone to understand, let alone heal.

How does that make you feel? How does it feel to know that you have destroyed something in me? Makes you feel good, honorable, more of a man??? I know your sick delusional ego would make it feel that way to you, and I will try to have my peace with that for I know that whoever reads those words, even if it were you reading them on the web not knowing that they are meant for you, whoever will read them will be disgusted at you and see you for the disgrace to humanity that you are.

I tried to find it in me to forgive you because it’s Ramadan and it's time for maghfera. I tried to practice forgiving, but I found myself wishing you none of it for you have done nothing to deserve it and I think that even forgiveness has to be earned.

(I know… so much for the whole Ramadan spirit I was trying to get into! That’s why anger IS a deadly sin.)

One week after…

Ramadan is taking its toll on me; it’s the first time that I find fasting that disorienting! It could be due to the caffeine deprivation since I have been guilty of some serious caffeine abuse during the past year. No craving, just utter disorientation!

I am too tired, exhausted actually. I sleep more hours that any self proclaimed insomniac should, I am too ashamed of myself, and I am even considering changing my name to sleepy-head.

And I haven’t even gotten all spiritual yet like everyone else seems to be! I am not sure my faith is that much intact that way. It adds to my guilt that I’m having terrible music obsession when everyone else I know is listening and/or reading Quran! It feels wrong somehow!!

Too many thoughts are crowding my head and I am too woozy and drowsy to even think or write them out of my system! Ramadan me3aslag ma3aya awy awy, and I can’t get into the whole Ramadan spirit, I am starting to feel so incompetent and that something is seriously wrong with me!

I do not blame Ramadan, I blame the people who overrate their joy and make it seem obligatory to feel the same way. Well, I don’t feel the spirit of Ramadan, so sue me!! And while I’m at it, I almost never feel that spirit, and neither do I feel that of El Eid! To me, it’s all about the social pretenses one has to go through to make loved ones happy (as well as not so loved ones) and it takes away whatever spiritual sense left in me, assuming I had much aslan!

I would wish you a blessed Ramadan, except that obviously it would sound too cliché coming from me, since you know better :-/

Bye bye August!

August has been…........... I guess there are no words to describe it really!

I met some new people, friends that I would like to keep…

I caught up with old childhood friends, found out we’re still the same, only years older from since we last met…

I laughed, I cried…

I felt too warm and happy, but again, I felt sad and hollow…

I regained my faith in some people I thought I had once given up on, and I also lost faith in some whom I once cherished, and still cherish that it kinda hurts…

I smiled, I couldn’t speak my mind, I tried to express myself and I couldn’t, so I just smiled…

I made too many decisions that I still don’t know how to put in an action plan, but at least I know I did make some decisions, hard ones…

I finally asked for something I wanted, and I got it! For the first time I get something that I had actually asked for…

I couldn’t say a lot of words out of loud, not even to myself… I played them in music, but no one listened, not even me…

Words still couldn’t come out, so I smiled and nodded though no one was looking… played more music, few tears fell, my heart ached, but the words never came out!

Decisions are hard, especially the right ones…

One reoccurring thought though… I am alone and I am scared… I keep looking for peace, company, and reassurance in my kids’ eyes, I find some, a lot actually! Yet, somehow, the feelings still linger more strongly!

August made me happy, but left me with sadness. It could be because my sadness is still too much for any happiness to take its place, but I know deep down that one day, my sadness will no longer haunt my happy days… I could be either optimistic or delusional, either one will do for now!

Bye bye August...

No, it’s not freakin’ ok!

A childhood friend of mine had a brain tumor right on the nerve feeding his right ear. He went to the states around three weeks ago and had the tumor removed, along with his hearing ability in the right ear. Now, he hears absolutely nothing if he sleeps on his left side, blocking his good ear. My friend is now recovering from the surgery and undergoing rehabilitation in order to deal with regaining his balance, since apparently it was not just hearing that he lost. I am grateful he recovered, but I can’t grasp the loss, and I am terrified the tumor would come back.

I’ve last seen my friend during my Luxor and Aswan trip. My friend turns 31 in September. My friend had two beautiful girls, and his wife has just given birth to the third while he was in the states having his surgery. My friend is a good husband and a great daddy.

My friend is a good guy. My friend used to help me carry my kids’ stroller on and off the boat in Aswan. My friend would hold my Beem and soothe him when he noticed I was too tired to walk carrying him. My friend is a good guy.

My dad told me about my friend a couple of hours before the x’s aunt came to visit the kids bearing his cheap gifts. I couldn’t return the toys because my kids were so thrilled, but I did return the clothes and I was too stiff about it, it almost felt like I was kicking her out as I did it.

I was thinking of my friend, and how his health and his time with his kids has been affected for good, while my x enjoys his health and the time he doesn’t bother spending with his kids getting to know them; how my x never really held Mocha and has no clue what Beem would want for his next birthday! How all that seems trivial when compared to how my friend loses touch with his surroundings if he sleeps on the wrong side!

Things like that are hard for me to grasp. Things like this shake my entire existence and make me beg for God’s mercy and beg to understand His wisdom.

حكمتك يا رب

Undivorced!!*

*(Although Microsoft Word Processor objected to this word, apparently it exists as per the Egyptian way of applying religion and law)

Due to a bureaucratic stupidity, I had to wait an extra day to get the ruling on my divorce case since the verdict was sent to Zananeery Court instead of Abdeen Court along with other verdicts! *ahem*typical*ahem*

In short and simple words, away from the unnecessary legal jargon, his ta3a request was rejected and so was my divorce request.

I won’t talk about my anxiety over the anticipation and how it would have been much worse if it hadn’t been for yesterday’s outing (thanks girl ;)). I won’t whine about the verdict because I promised myself I wouldn’t; I know other people out there have it much worse and that I should be grateful, and I am, despite the disappointment and frustration for which I was prepared.

This is my general wondering though, even as I know that I am probably not the first or the only who had given that matter a thought!

What is the purpose of the verdict? I mean saying it out loud (or typing it for that matter) “el ta3a wel tala2, el etneen etrafado!” does not make any sense! If the honorable judge does not think I have legitimate grounds for requesting a divorce since to him no harm has been inflicted on me, then why did he refuse the ta3a my x requested???? And if he believed that the ta3a request could not be approved and that it was malicious because my x sated that beet el ta3a is in a rural area, which is not where we used to live, then why on earth did he not approve of the divorce?? What is the purpose of the verdict?

I find it hard to grasp for the judge basically rejected the continuity of the marriage even though he rejected its ending! I find that absurd because it leaves me (and any other woman in my shoes for that matter) in an unidentified status. It suspends the marriage, which is not approved or acknowledged by religion (not shar3y!)

I don’t get how the judge, the very same judge who ordered my x to pay alimony through court believes that this is a solid marriage that lacks reasons for termination! Who is he trying to fool?? And more importantly where does that lead??

I know khol3 is an option, and I am seriously weighing it despite how unfair it would be for me because I think my case qualifies for a divorce since harm has been inflicted on me, men el na7ya el adabeya like my dad refers to it. But what about before khol3? How do people in my place react and what was expected of them?

I know of marriages that took up to ten years to end just because the husband did not want to give his wife the freedom in fear she would remarry! Is that fair? Is that right? Is that 7alal? And that was a man whom I can fairly call a dedicated father who did not remarry either during his suspended marriage or after, not such an ignorant prick like my x who wouldn’t mind remarrying right now just to spite me!

I wish I could address the judge or whoever in charge of such ridiculous insensible laws that have no regard whatsoever for humanity! I wish I could talk to the judge and explain to him my point of view although I have serious doubts he would listen, let alone understand!

I think I should state out of fairness that I have no personal agenda against the judge, or his integrity for that matter. I don’t believe he had been bought, I do however belief that he had allowed his own prejudices to affect how he thinks in terms of my case as well as any other. I know he must have seen a million other cases that would make him cynical and bitter, cases that would make me sound like a spoilt brat who does not appreciate the bliss she has. I have seen and heard of some that made me feel the same way about myself. But he is a judge, he represents a lot more than his personal opinions, or at least he should, I think it’s his job requirement, and I think he had failed at that.

He comes from a rural masculine background himself that denies women the right of free will; moreover, pins it on religion! He thinks women have no rights further than having their basic needs fulfilled, and from a very limited perspective; not even like a pet, more like a domestic animal. He thinks one should keep a wife for physical purposes away from sin, reproducing, cooking and cleaning; the same way one would keep a cow for milk and meat, but before that for offsprings that would continue providing the same afterwards.

I am sorry if my analogy is rather cruel or inaccurate, but it’s how humiliated it felt after having to deal with him. I don’t mean to trash him or even imply that he’s a bad person; he’s simply a simple man who was raised with the conviction that the traditions he inherited are as holy as the religion he strongly believes in without true understanding. That doesn’t make him a bad person in my book, but it does make him an ignorant one. And for that, I blame the system that put such an ignorant person in this place just because he has integrity; for what good is integrity if the beliefs of its owner are that tainted!!

I wish I could speak my mind to someone in charge, I wish there was something I could do to make a difference because as frustrated as I am right now, I am aware that other people have to deal with what’s worse in more severe ways.

The thought of knowing that I ache -although I have a roof over my head and I can earn good living that fulfills most of my needs as well as my kids’- troubles me because it comes with the realization that there are other people out there who are going through the same, if not worse, yet do not have a home or even a half decent lifestyle. The word “lifestyle” itself may be something other people just can’t afford!

It makes me too embarrassed to wallow and whine; it makes me force myself to be ok because I know I would seem lucky and blessed compared to other people!

Therefore, instead of whining, I ask whoever stops by and reads this to advise if there is anything I could do or anyone I could approach; I want to channel my discontent through something proactive because I promised myself I won’t surrender to self pity.

So dear reader, your advice will be appreciated.

raw and unedited

i don't wanna talk to my dad or my uncle because they will give me all that crap about 7otty a3sabek fe talaga we matanfa3leesh... and i know they are right but i can't help it!!

mawgoo3a... we makhnoo2a we 3ayza a3ayat... 7ata wana 3arfa en 3eyaty da men foo2 el wesh we mesh men ay 7aga aktar men 3asabeya we katma... we 3arfa en beggad all will be ok if i hang in there but i just need to collapse for a while there and feel the fall!

his aunt is right here visiting...

it started out with subtle talk and me hinting hidden insults towards him... shoghl 3ala nar hadya like they say... i don't know when it escalated but it did... she's polite and she didn't offend me... not intentionally at least... bas kalamha ghalat... kalamha kolo lame ass justifications for someone who doesn't know the meaning or the the the weight of what he did, the life he just ruined... howa ya3ne 3ashan i am intact we mesh maksoora yeb2a khalas elly 3amalo da wala 7aga!! howa ana lazem yedakhaloony masa7a at3aleg wala a cut my wrist we a3mel shoghl hysteria 3alashan ye3rafo en feeh damage!!! yes i am freakin recovering but there has been pain and it has not yet been healed and under no circumstances will i ever be willing to pretend it never happened or accept it to be ridiculed!!!! it was pain and it was real and i was 19 and now i am 27!!!! i was a girl and now i am mother, i changed and the change came with too much pain for me to grasp even when i say i do..... what the hell is wrong with people? what the hell is wrong with people to make something so real sound so cliche!!! i wanna scream AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA at the top of my lungs if it would make them feel a fraction of my pain, but i am too freakin proud!!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

"yeb2a enty ya habibty elly ma3refteesh te7afzy 3ala beetek" she says... so simply... like it’s the answer to all my questions or the justifications to all my agony!! it's me!!! i know where her words are coming from, i know it's both her sympathy towards her own blood and the fruit of a rotten society that allows and justifies more irresponsibility from a man than a woman... she says motherhood is an instinct, and fatherhood is practice.... NO, IT'S NOT!!! it's not.... I can’t agree to that?? when did guys I know practice fatherhood when they first held their babies in their arms!!! when did my father practice any of it when he spent most of my childhood in oil fields, and when he wasn't, he came too late long after i had slept!!! "el regala elly 3andokom homa ellly mesh abahat" i replied with hate "i know ppl my father's age, my uncles' age and my age who are capable of being good fathers by instinct" and i left to my room.

ok, the mood has instantly changed when i got out of my body and watched how emotional i was... when i saw my baby sister met3asaba fe makany and my other sister and i in the room listening to the same anger I was conveying until we burst with laughter...

bas khalas!

On detachment…

I’ve been thinking about the concept for a while and here is what I could come up with regarding myself; I am incapable of detachment!! I push myself too hard until I am completely able to detach, and no matter how detached I might I think I am, I never really stop caring!

I’ve been thinking about it since the night before yesterday’s court session as my uncle told me right in front of my dad that I was making a big deal out of it worrying!! “mate3esheesh el tagroba” he said! “You know very well that all this will end, either through divorce or khol3, mate7ra2eesh a3sabek ba2a” he explained. I went to bed trying to convince myself with his words; yes, I know it will end, but I am 3aysha el tagroba whether I like it or not!

You see, it’s not really up to me to pretend like I am ok with all of it, with how screwed up the system is, with the fact that a lot of other people who are less privileged are going through every day, people who do not have an back exit door like I do, or simply can’t afford one!! I am not an activist, but this “experience” has given me a perspective on many things I would have never even considered before! It got me out of the bubble where I was once protected from all the nastiness in the world, and forced me into seeing things I still have problems adjusting with, so excuse me for “living it” to the fullest!!

My uncle and I sat at the ahwa right outside Court since it was extremely hot in there and of course no a/c except in his honor’s room, while my lawyer joined as he kept checking if it was our turn to get in yet. They did all they could to make me understand that all this is nothing but an attempt to teach my x a lesson yet preserving my rights, which will make him rather butter since let’s face it, he’s a material jerk. I kept nodding in an attempt to really detach myself from all the anxiety and the digestion problems and headaches I’ve been having over this!

Their words stopped making sense the moment I saw him walking by! I’ve seen him a couple of times at court, but I never felt the way I did yesterday! I felt pain! The kind of pain you feel when someone steps on a sore toe, only that toe was my heart, or something! He walked by, he saw me and I saw him, only we pretended it never happened as he walked into the Court House! A while later I walked in with my uncle and my lawyer as he was walking out to check if his witnesses had arrived or not. I didn’t see him though; but my lawyer said I flinched and got closer to the wall the moment he passed right next to me, which made him stop and look at me in angry surprise! I didn’t even notice!!!

He brought two witnesses, friends of his whom we always went out with and invited home, back when we actually had a home! One of them, the one I always liked the most of his friends, walked right to me to say hi, I smiled back and greeted him politely. Nonetheless, I think I alienated him when he started saying words like elly benkom akbar men keda, and eh elly 7assal 3ashan kol da!! his other friend was feeling two awkward to talk to me, he simply gave me an embarrassed smile inside the judge’s room as he was saying I (I!) sent my x text message saying kalam mesh malabod!! Mind you, I learned my lesson, no talking in the presence of the judge unless permitted, and for all I know my x could have showed him something I never sent!!!

He asked for a permission to talk to the judge, and was granted one (ESHME3NA!!). He said more and more distortions of the truth, it’s disturbing how the order of events could totally change the truth and make it sound so different. I started boiling inside as he continued telling more twisted facts, but I could patiently wait until it was over and I asked the Judge to let me clarify a thing or two, or at least comment. He gave me one of his condescending looks as he said I should have gone before my x because I am the moda3eya! La ya sheikh, so I had the freakin’ right to talk, why the hell did you not let me know, wala shakly me2adeyaha ma7akem leel nahar!!!

Anyway, I told him my x LIED, I told him he made things sound different and briefly rearranged the things he had said! He interrupted me implying that my x and I were spoilt brats who didn’t know how to mind our own business and were guilty of lat we 3agn and went on and on about this being Egypt’s problem, yeah right!

I waited impatiently as he finished interrupting me and in a polite attempt told him he was far off, and that up until my marriage fell apart thanks to my x, I never told anyone about my life or my problems. My big proof was how my witnesses only had so little to share about or life before problems, while his friends didn’t! my lawyer said I kicked a** and that at some point before I started talking he was afraid I’d screw things, but was relieved when he saw me able to control my temper and tame the words that got out of my mouth! He said my words had an ok effect on the judge, which is great considering he’s who he is!

I did not feel the glory though! I was frustrated and maktooma as my uncle referred to me! How could I not!! I really don’t know how to detach myself from all that!!! I saw him, a person I once trusted who is now twisting facts to hurt me that way, and insisting to make me sound like something I am definitely not!! It hurts! People with whom I broke bread came to politely imply that I am out of my mind to let a marriage fall apart! Am I really? Did they even know half of the truth to pass judgment on me that way!! A judge who insists that I have no good grounds for a divorce is the one controlling my life right now! Someone whom I can only feel sorry for; for being too jaded and bitter to be sensitive about the words that shoot out of his mouth!

There will be a ruling at the end of this month, and the sad part is that I can’t help worrying even though I already know the verdict!!! I know all there is to come, and yet I am not able to jump ahead and skip the unpleasant things.

Oh oh!! He had stopped calling since my birthday, but for some reason, he attempted to call 11 times!! He texted me saying, “… let’s end this amicably; nothing will happen except what I want to happen…” I read it to my dad and uncle hoping they would contact him or something, but they nodded with disgust and said he was still the jerk that could not be trusted! Tab ana 3abita for wanting to believe him, I know I am!! Something in me wanted to call him and tell him I want to work things out and get a civil divorce, I wanted to believe that he’s capable of that!!

Ana te3ebt ba2a, we zehe2t!! we mesh 3arfa ezzay mesh ha3eesh el tagroba elly aslant ana madfoona feeha!!! I really don’t wanna be upset over it, any of it!! It’s not like I am addicted to nakad or anything!! Actually a friend of mine called to check on me, and was surprised I was laughing! Yes, I am smiling and laughing all the time, but my mind hurts!! It doesn’t seem to understand why any of this is happening!! UUUUFFFFFFFF

A so-called break

Two days ago, my baby sister called from Alex where she had gone with my dad to relax for a couple of days asking me if it was possible to take three days off from work and chaperone her to Sharm El Sheikh since baba would not let her travel alone. It was right after I had published my last post and I still don’t know if she had read it or not!

My first instinct to her request was, “ok, let me figure a couple of things out and talk to mom” since she was the one supposedly accompanying her. According to my sister, ma had bailed on her because I am too stressed out and she can’t just travel for a couple of days and leave me!! So now I am that much of a burden!!

Anyway, I had a doctor’s appointment the next day for my last wisdom tooth to be pulled out, I had already started taking antibiotics to prepare; therefore, I did not want to postpone. Moreover, I had not yet called my boss to ask him if it was ok to take three days off. I packed for two anyways; mocha and I and decided that I should be ready anyway.

While packing I subconsciously started making plans for my stay in the hotel room and I couldn’t shake the thought of getting a massage one way or another if mocha sleeps or something! However, the moment I finished packing I sat on my bed and I kept murmuring, “mesh 3ayza asafer, mesh 3ayza asafer!” I did not want to leave my beem and I most certainly couldn’t take both my kids with my sister leaving me all alone all day to her conference, let alone having to travel with her colleagues with two kids is just too weird!

The next day, I called my boss on my way to the dentist and he said that he would prefer it if I don’t leave and that he did not like how sudden my request was, somehow that was a relief. So I sent my sister text telling her to talk to mama and called ma telling her it was really ok for me that she goes with my sis. Later, while waiting at the clinic my other sister called asking me if I could drive both of my sisters to the place where they gather with other NGO members to leave, I told her I wouldn’t make it on time and that they should take a taxi or something.

I couldn’t help but feel like my virtual plans were ruined, but well, I also knew I had cold feet about leaving one of my kids at home! I kept telling myself that it was all for the best, and perhaps both of my sisters taking some time off would do everyone some good.

I started planning for the weekend getaway and called my father to confirm that I can proceed with making reservations if there was available rooms in el Ein el Sokhna. When I called him he was in a grumpy mood, he blamed me for making a promise to my sister to chaperone her and getting her hopes up that way, and he told me that it was either mama or I who should go with her and that one of us should keep her word!

So, I called my boss again and promised him I will be checking my mail regularly and finally got him to agree, then called my sister and told her to put some last-minute stuff in my already packed bag and meet me downtown to take the bus. Then I finally got into the dentist’s office who overheard most of the conversations anyway, and got my wisdom tooth pulled. It was painful and it still hurts like hell, it’s worth mentioning I am under both antibiotics and Panadol extra and I still feel like a couple of anesthetic shots!!

It was extremely HOT, and it took what seemed like forever to meet and then get into the small bus and then finally move on our way to Sharm and it took a bit more until the A/C had finally kicked in!! Meanwhile, my shades failed to hide the signs of utter disgust on my face as my teeth were clenched biting on that piece of bloody cotton hoping that the pain wouldn’t drive me crazy. Nonetheless, I kept thinking, perhaps it’s the break I wanted; perhaps I would finally get to relax, even if I didn’t get to sit by the beach or get a massage, I usually enjoy slacking around in a nice and cozy hotel room. I always look for something to keep me positive and I always tell convince myself that there is a good thing about going for something as well as there’s a good thing on not doing the same thing!!

My sister kept treating me as if I were an emotional wreckage for some reason! I did not want to ask her if she had read my post; instead, I just told her that I was fine with travelling with her and that she had to stop apologizing and start relaxing and enjoying the experience. I meant it, I promise.

It was a long ride, my no longer existing tooth was killing me and I kept gulping panadol extras as if it were Chiclets. It’s worth mentioning though that mocha was quite an angel all through; he slept and when he was up he really really behaved, I’m so proud of my baby.

On our way, my sister shared the delightful news; she had run out of contact lenses; moreover, while talking to my dad on the phone as he was telling her that her trip is to be cancelled if neither mama or me went with her, she threw her glasses and got them broken, which left her technically blind. This meant we had to look for a place that sells prescription contacts once we arrive at Sharm, which was not expected to be any earlier that 8:30 pm, and just to make things more interesting, it turned out we were not booked in Naema Bay and that the hotel (resort actually) was 7 kilos away! Great!

When we finally arrived, one of us had to stay and check in while the other had to ask around for advice on where to find an optician or a pharmacy that sells contacts. Since my sister had blurry vision in addition to her original bad sense of direction, I suggested that she would handle the checking-in while I go to Naema Bay.

It’s crazy how people in Sharm know to take advantage of 7 kilos distance from where I was to Naema Bay; one word: 7arameya!! Anyways, beggars are not chooser, but it sure made me miss my car. So, once I got there, I got to see the new ugly face of Sharm el Sheikh; it was by no means the place I liked six years ago! People were extremely unhelpful and unfriendly; and strapping mocha to me in his carrier was an additional factor for people to flee instead of offering help like it normally happened in good old Cairo!! Apparently, having a baby strapped to me eliminated the sexy factor, let alone being in jeans and a shirt while everyone was in their tank tops and shorts!

After some serious effort from my side to overlook some annoying factors as I walked in Naema Bay, I finally got the contacts and bought some drinks and dinner and headed home since my sis called saying there were no dinner arrangements at the hotel. She was having a bit of an attitude over the phone and I gave her some back because honestly, I was too tired to start taking any shit from anyone at that point.

I got back to find that she was still at the lobby with the luggage because our residence was too far away and she worried I wouldn’t find the way easily given how huge the resort is. So one tuf-tuf and one gold cart later, we finally got into one nice cozy room, with the touch of nice old Egyptian style! I was excited and I started thinking things were gonna get better, little did I know.

I got into the bathroom to freshen up to find a black evil looking spider; the fact that it was rather small did not change the bigger fact that I am a wuss when it comes to insects, spiders and similar creatures in general. However, a quick evaluation of the situation helped me overcome my fear temporarily and I took off my slipper and squished it while screaming a lot louder than it would have had been given the chance! I got out of the bathroom all grossed and my mood was ruined, only it didn’t really show with all the fatigue.

Mocha stopped being an angel since he was bored, tired, hungry and simply irritated like any infant his age would. And to make things worse, he dropped a full pepsi can on his toe and it turned all blue and ugly and the poor thing kept crying! I could barely eat my meal despite how hungry I was and I asked my sis after noticing that she had finished eating to take him so that I can finish up. She kept nodding and mumbling things.

It’s worth mentioning that she had already provoked the crap out of me as I was telling her that next time we want food we should go out and eat instead of bring food into the room. She said she had dinner arrangements with the conference people, so I told her she should join me afterwards so that she can help me with mocha as I had dinner before heading back to the hotel. She simply said with her usual condescending tone, “ana 3andy fekra a7san, we split the money, we kol wa7ed feena ma3 nafso.” At that point I just waved with my hand asking her to stop talking and silently decided that it was a stupid idea to drag my son and go to a place where I simply wouldn’t be able to move freely for his convenience.

Mocha was still grumpy and irritated and I asked her again to take him so that she can comfort him until I finish up and wash my hands. Instead, she deliberately ignored me and started cleaning up after herself! I told her I would clean up for the two us and that it was more important that she attended to him since he needed comforting. Again, she insisted on ignoring me with her usual dismissive way that usually gets on my nerves.

That was it for me; I’ve been piling shit loads of crap from everyone in my family for a while, my tooth was killing me, I was having muscular strain because of that stupid carrier, my toes were hurt because of not-for-walking-long-distances slippers, I was still hungry since I didn’t really get to eat having to handle mocha, and I was still traumatized by the spider incident… I did not need attitude and most certainly not from someone who does not appreciate my help five hours after she wouldn’t stop apologizing for causing me that much trouble!!

I held my cell and I called mama asking her to come the next day so that I could go back. She kept making fun of my spider encounter and said how I once made them switch hotels because I found a roach. When she finally sensed how angry my tone was she figured I had a fight with my sis and handled the phone to baba who kept yelling at the two of us and said that if we couldn’t suck it up and behave like grownups we should return to Cairo at that instance.

Meanwhile, my dear sister blurted all sorts of insensitive shit that I think ruined our relationship for a while now. It’s sad how I thought of a million things to hurt her by saying, but I only said things like “law ma7taramteesh nafsek hagy adrabek” I almost had the urge to go punch her or something, but I held back because something in me screamed that I couldn’t do this to my sister! But I am mad at her despite how she kept crying and apologizing for all the mean things she said. Thing is, I was deeply hurt by what she said, and I know it will take me quite a while to be able to pretend it never happened.

Having her tell me I was a whiner who did not know how to do anything but complain, how I am always insisting on being right and doing things my way and never compromising brought painful memories I have been trying to block and almost succeeded until yesterday. But it helped me decide something; I am moving out, I may not be able to afford it, so I will ask for financial help from my dad which I was not willing to do before. However, I think it’s better that I keep a healthy distance between my sisters and I.

We tried to talk afterwards; in fact, she kept saying how we needed to talk and I kept shutting her off. I don’t wanna talk anymore; I no longer do those heart-to-heart-opening-up talks. I may be as talkative as hell, but once I am offended that way, I just prefer to keep my mouth shut. She kept saying how we’re still sisters and how she loves me and asked me if I loved her back, I found myself looking the other way as I told her I hated that word and I no longer believed people could actually mean it without hiding behind it as the inflicted pain on their loved ones. She said I was being silly because our sibling love is much higher than that, I didn’t have it in me to tell her that it wasn’t, and that after the things she said, I was only interested in us being sisters in a formal way, whatever that is.

Call me 3ayela for not willing to talk things through, but I am beginning to think that some feelings are better left un-discussed and un-channeled. I must confess, detachment never felt so appealing.

I had a bad night, but then again, I’ve had worse. Mocha didn’t seem comfy in his sleep either. You know your nights sucked when you fall to restless sleep after 2:00 am to wake up on your own for no good reason at 6:00 am. We showered and got out of the room to have breakfast at 7:30. On our way to the restaurant mocha fell as he was insisting on walking and running, so I told my sis to leave us there and catch her group while I took care of him, which resulted in us losing track of one another and having breakfast in two different restaurants. Luckily the waiters in my restaurant were helpful and friendly, and mocha enjoyed poking his food as I fed him.

I finally got back to the room and actually had some sleep once I checked my work mail and sent out some replies using dial-up since there is no wi-fi in the room, let alone that it costs over 26 egps an hour!!

Shortly after waking up, I got into the bathroom to find a gecko. I screamed so loud, I think I heard echo! Why! WHY would I find a spider yesterday and find a gecko today?! I decided against using the bathroom until further notice, which happened around 40 minutes later when mocha decided he needed a change!

I got into the bathroom offering the tiny gecko a treaty and promising I wouldn’t even consider harming it as long as it remained hidden! The gecko kept its promise, but as I got closer to the lavatory, I spotted a vicious looking spider on the wall next to the mirror, and it was significantly bigger than the one I killed yesterday, 3aaaaaaaaaaaaaa.

That was it! I cleaned up mocha in a hurry, got out, got dressed, called customer care and asked them to send someone from housekeeping and almost freaked at the guy when I sense how he was trying to contain his laughter, which made him apologize.

I spent around 30 minutes at the unit lobby playing with mocha until the room was done. I got back into the room to find some customer care dude checking if I was satisfied with how clean the room have supposedly become. I think that’s code for me being their joke for the past 30 minutes; I know it makes me sound paranoid, but you should have heard the tone.

I slept again once mocha was asleep, this time it was for a longer time, only my sleep was dreams about my x pointing a gun at me through a door and I could see through it, followed by my own attempt to kill myself! Ain’t life just grand?!

I woke up to find a text message from my sis saying that she was expected back 20 minutes ago and that she had already ate lunch. I called her asking if she felt like dinner together, she said there were dinner arrangements with her colleagues that she was going to ditch because she didn’t feel like eating and that she needed to rest.

She came back and asked how my day was, I told her it was ok. She said, “enty betharagy, makalateesh men sa3et el fetar le7ad delwa2ty” I told her I made an order shortly before she came back and that it was expected any minute.

So far, I hate that I came to Sharm, I hate the city, I hate the resort even though it’s supposedly five stars, I hate the cable tv that only has one channel in English, CNN and two channels in Arabic, Al Jazira & Rotana Cinema! I hate the fight I had with my sister, I hate having missed work to be trapped in a secluded place where I don’t even feel like getting out of my room because of the unbearable heat. I hate that my plans starting the next weekend two days earlier to go to el Ein el Sokhna are practically ruined.

I am starting to think my sisters are right; perhaps I can do nothing but complain! I think I have gotten used to wallowing instead of actually doing something about it; I think I have become addicted to misfortunes because it’s easier to whine than it is to change things and shake them up! Or maybe I wasn’t clear! I need a vacation either without both of my kids where I am assured they are well taken care of and happy or a vacation with both of them with me, plus someone who babysits until I get my own treats. At this point, I am not even sure if anything can work for me; therefore, I will no longer have hopes or wishes, I give up.