Homeless…

I was running an errand and I had to go to a home appliances and hardware store, and it hit me right there…

I am homeless.

I have been since I gave birth to my Beem! Since then, I lived with my in-laws and my sense of belonging to my own home vanished one day after the other; I couldn’t do my laundry whenever I wanted, yet I had to do it before anyone else beat me to it, making me look and feel like an incompetent wife. My life became even more stressful because I felt like a guest in addition to dealing with being a new mom. I kept failing one task after the other because I was spread too thin.

After I gave birth to my Mocha, I was back to my parents’, and until last May, I was struggling for my divorce. I have a room separate from the rest of the household, it has its own bathroom and it’s own “living”. However, I could never really do any of the little random purchases for none of the things I bought matched or belonged to my parents’ place, just like I no longer belong.

I stood there, staring at the laundry hamper trying to figure out if I shall buy it and keep it in my stuffed room anyways! The thought led to how I need to re-paint the damn room and get a closet to fit all our stuff in it, one thought led to the other and the final conclusion was clear, I do not have a home.

I know it’s a roof above my head and my kids’, but it’s not a home, not my home. I constantly feel like I have to abide by rules I supposedly outgrew just because I live under that roof. I am forced to go to Alex whenever there’s a family event, I am forced to go on vacations, I abide by dumb curfews because I do not want to upset my dad and because I owe them that little for taking care of me and my kids! Well, day after another, I feel less loved in this place, and it is most likely my oversensitivity, but I constantly feel used and disposable in a sense, and I don’t have the right to object because it’s not my place.

I need my place. I need to sit down and write how much it will cost me to move out and start making a plan, and follow it. I have no idea if it’s the right thing to do for either myself or my kids, but I am no longer sure what’s right; there are no guidelines, and every freakin’ thing is relative and all I know is that I can’t go on like that anymore!!

Not again!!

“… the profoundest changes take place within a very reduced time frame. When we least expect it, life sets us a challenge to test our courage and willingness to change; at such a moment, there is no point in pretending that nothing has happened or in saying that we are not yet ready.

The challenge will not wait. Life does not look back. A week is more than enough time for us to decide whether or not to accept our destiny”

- Paulo Coelho' Author's Note from The Devil and Miss Prym


That’s what I am so afraid of, and it stared me right in the eye when I was trying to distract myself by reading!

I don’t hate change, I am rarely ever scared of it or unwilling to do it, on the contrary, I throw myself right into it, and that scares me. The possibility that the change could be to the worse or that it would bring out the worst in me is what terrifies me.

Uff ba2a! we kaman I barely know who I am and what I want for it to change already, mesh 3ayza al3ab khalas! Being a Gemini can get really exhausting!

Wrapped within a jazzy tune!

Looking through the window and seeing all those marshmallow clouds around me, I wrapped my shawl around me as jazz tunes tickled all my senses…

It was the perfect setting; finishing up a cup of coffee as my favorite lindt melted in my mouth after a brief chat with the friendly flight attendant, me alone on that row, and Ella and Louis singing… that was when it hit me…

I finally felt that warm fuzzy feeling I was missing most of my trip…

I felt gratitude for it all, I felt the kind of happy I couldn’t feel earlier when I was burdened by all the things that haunted my soul!

The end of my trip did not feel sad like endings are mostly known to be; mine was satisfying.

It all fell into place as the plane slowly came closer to the ground, and I could see the tiny little details through the cotton-candy clouds, I was reminded of my love for details and I remembered those particular ones that made me smile during my trip…

And all of a sudden, it felt like home!

Oh details, I just love you; you make my life!! In you, my true happy moments belong and I am forever grateful that I can see you, even if at the end!

The Futility of the Dance!!

I have high hopes when it comes to people, but when it comes to relationships, especially romantic ones, I am extremely cynical.

After all, I have every right to be, having survived my own romantic relationship that led to marriage, which led to infidelity, which led to humiliation and divorce. I’d like the rest of my life to be of less drama thank you very much.

So to go by, I decided on a list of things to help me survive whatever the years will throw at me… here’s a sample

Love is tricky; you slip in fast, it fills the eye and the heart leaving the mind completely misled. Most tragically, it fades, it always fades, either from your heart or from the other person’s leaving you either unhappily honoring a commitment you promised to maintain, feeling disregarded by someone who wants to honor his/her commitment, or cheating (one way or the other) or being cheated upon.

Before you tell me I am being too hard and bitter on love, walk a mile in my shoes…

I have enough friends in relationships (marriage and/or otherwise), most of which are considering/trying to get out of them!!! And the ones who are keeping the façade of contentment are very obviously trying to convince themselves that they’re facing the bumps on their roads and that this is what relationships are like!! I really wish for the latter that they get through their bumps and find the happiness for which they are searching, I honestly do.

Having heard my share of stories, I have noticed how differently men and women see things; I get to hear the guy’s take and I get to hear the girl’s take and I almost seizure every time I find myself seeing how it’s all a communication problem due to the male/female different perceptions.

And no, I am not wiser than my fellow females, I am just detached from the problems having to hear about them rather than live them. When a male friend tells me his side of the story where his significant other is behaving a way close enough to what I would have done had I been in her place, I tell him how she got there and why she’s acting that way, I say it calmly after I acknowledge his side of the story and confirm that his point is valid!

That’s when my friend would say I am the wisest woman he had met, only what he doesn’t know is that I get to be that wise because I am not investing my emotions on him, I get to be that calm and understanding and let myself see his side because my love and care for him are not the kind that would make me hurt when he doesn’t see mine, while his significant other is blinded by the one thing that makes her want to be with him, her love to him!!! And to complicate things further, being detached doesn't mean you have a solution because in relationships, the only people who can actually make change are the couple themselves!! The irony!

This makes me think that the way couples understand a relationship, at least here in Egypt, they would always need a couples counselor who would constantly referee their relationship and advocate their points of view to one another!! Does anyone see how pathetic that is, or is it just me???

I have always thought of relationships to be like a dance a couple perfect over time; when one of them moves forward, the other knows that it’s their time to move backwards to give them the needed space. Yes, in the learning process, they will step on each other’s toes and probably get hurt from time to time, but the idea of them needing constant coaching is just… scary!

It’s exactly like this: my partner steps on my toe while moving forward, my natural instinct would be telling him he did and at the same time prepare myself that he might accidentally do it again in his attempts to master the moves!! But no one excuses himself from the dance when such an incident happens to go tell the dancing coach “my partner just stepped on my foot!”

I am not denying the need for guidance; I just resent the idea of having to be eternally dependant on it. Actually, truth is, very few people acknowledge their need for initial guidance; as far as each and everyone of us is concerned, we all know best and we don’t need anyone’s help, which is even sadder! Perhaps it’s the reason why we needed that kind of guidance to begin with - damn arrogance!

So to sum this up, in a relationship, being in love does not mean you were born a dancer! There’s a lot to learn about your partner, a lot more to learn about yourself and your ability to adjust and compromise things. Do you know the things you’re capable of doing? Do you know your deal breakers? I seriously doubt any of us knows all of those, it’s a trial-and-error process and sadly you only get to find a few with every failed attempt of a relationship!

I just realized that I have run out of things to say without actually making a point! Truth is, I have none!!! I was just ranting about my constant disillusion at relationships and talking myself out of any future ones because I just don’t have any toes left for a blind fool to step on them!!

*I got the photo off the web some time ago, so I don't exactly remember the photo credits!

The One…

“do you believe in the one?” my friend asked.

“there was a time I must have, but now, I tell myself I should know better… it would be such a shame to be a 28 year old divorcee and still believe in a fairytale notion!” I said

I noticed how that matter keeps being brought up, and if not, it’s something that would bring me to think of it!

I don’t remember when I believed there was a one for me, but I suppose I must have thought it was my x!

I try to look back and remember what made me think we were a match made in heaven, and I fail, miserably! We didn’t have the same taste in anything; we liked different music, we preferred different colors and patterns, we liked different furniture styles, we liked to hang with different kinds of people, and we had different dreams! Yet, we used to think each of us was the other’s missing half!!

Ok, hindsight is 20/20.

Now, I am a bit wised up, or so I hope, although I keep stumbling on strong evidence that I am not, I will delude myself long enough to finish this thought.

I think the concept of “the one” is just too… cruel.

Yes, cruel is the word, not dreamy and not ideal, plain cruel.

To be with someone and think they’re the one means you’re practically running towards a cliff blinded by strong emotions that are bound to fade and fail you, and let you fall from that cliff with no one to catch your fall.

No, not cynical, not at all… just plain realistic!

I see myself, I see people around me who had mistakenly thought they found the one, and I see how disillusioned they are.

I see other people who thought they stumbled on the one when they were already in complicated committed relationships and kept torturing themselves over missing that one and I feel bad for them because they might as well have been with that person to yearn for another and wonder!

It’s a cruel cruel joke from whoever came up with that concept; what did he/she know or think to say such thing? Didn’t they know that emotions never exactly last, not with the same intensity that blinds us from the flaws and mistakes and eliminates the boredom from constant monotony? Why did he/she link love to the one? We can fall in and out of love but to think that by doing so we’re getting closer or further away from the one where our eternal happiness is supposed to lie, it’s just painfully cruel.

I think the notion originated from one of those darn twisted Greek myths were their gods were petty and played with people’s fates according to their whims.

I think we indulged in that notion because we tend to treasure the things that bring us pain because we were told somewhere along the line that without misery we don’t recognize joy, only we forget to recognize joy because we dwell too much on misery.

Months ago, my friend concluded, “if there’s a one for me out there, I would like to meet her, even if we’re not meant to be together, I would just like to know her”

I replied jokingly, “I think if I see my one –if he ever exists- I’ll punch him in the face and ask him what took him so damn long”. Then I decided to be a bit more serious, “actually, if there’s a one for me out there and we’re not meant to be together, I’d rather he stays where he is; the last thing I need is more heartbreak”

So to sum this up, I don’t advise people to live searching or even waiting for the one; if the one is the person we love, news flash, love is not what we think it is, not even close! Love is too fickle to be about just one person, and life is too long and ever changing to be just about one person.

I just don’t have an alternative notion, not yet.

On Boundaries…

Almost a year ago or something…


Looking into the random scribbles and smiling without looking back at me…

“You’re very aggressive. Thing is, you have every right to be; you don’t just burst for no reason, you hold it in for too long until you can no longer handle it and then you become too aggressive, it comes from pain”

Looking at me…

“Why is that??”

I smile and I shrug…

“It’s just who I am I guess!”

Still looking at me…

“It’s not ok because it gets to you more than it should. You let people abuse you in a way because you don’t want to acknowledge that you’re not ok, they push you far beyond your limits and you still try to pretend it’s ok until you no longer can… at that point, it’s pretty much too late for them to fix things and also very late for you to forgive them for messing things up… you’re already too hurt and you burn those bridges with both pain and rage”

Avoiding eye contact…

“I don’t know what else to do; I expect people to understand me well enough to not cross my boundaries!”

Still staring at me, yet maintaining the quiet tone…

“Do you know your boundaries? I don’t think you define yours clearly enough although you're very aware of others'; it’s a loose term when it comes to you because once someone gets close enough; there is almost nothing you wouldn’t take from them … isn’t that what happened with your x? It does not change that he was not a good person, but you let him get away with a lot of things he shouldn’t have until you no longer could, right?”

Nodding…

He resumed…

“You should make boundaries, clear ones, especially for those you love and care about because those are the ones that hurt you the most. If you let them know in advance that you’re not as strong as you come off, they’d be more careful… and if they don’t, at least it would be early enough for you not to hurt. Be as assertive as you seem to be”



He was right. Boundaries are such a loose term for me, not just with the ones I care for! Once I feel comfortable enough, I sort of let my guard down and make room for jerks to take me for granted.

Problem is, there is a nice-gene in there somewhere that doesn’t recognize harassment or abuse even if it hits me in the face! No not a nice gene, I’ll call it stupid-naïve-gene, and it keeps causing me emotional trauma and my mind keeps blocking it somewhere until the next one!

Ufff, when did people become so damn evil! I feel like an idiot just like my friend kept saying yesterday… no, not utopian like I kept correcting him, a complete idiot.

And now, I will try to figure out how aggressive I will have to be with that one! Given the circumstances, passive aggressive is the way to be… and complete avoidance, like the couple of ones before him. I see a pattern, one that I do not like, and I am thinking it’s also me, not just them.

Pending Reflections…

At the Physiotherapist’s…

“Just relax, let go!”
“I can’t!!”


At my Birthday Party…

“I am just too happy that I have nothing in mind that I can possibly wish for!”


My friend…

“Well sounds like you're surrounded by ppl who love you”

“What would you wish me?”
“Happiness, eternal happiness”


Will…

“Life is treating me well since my BD!!!”
“I think life thinks you've had enough”
“hehe, only it's never smart to actually believe that; life usually waits till u completely let your guard down”
“Well sometimes it's smart to believe that for a while”


At the Hairdresser’s while having my nails done…

“enty betsheddy a3sabbek awy!”
“haha, ma3lesh asfa, asly wakhda 3ala keda!”


So to sum up what I had in mind…

I am incapable of just relaxing and enjoying the good stuff that life gives me!

Yet, apparently when I am happy, my friends seem to wish me more happiness because I am such good company that way!

I worry… and I am too afraid of letting my guard down; it's understandable given all I've been through! Or so I would like to believe.

I am too tense, even when I am supposedly relaxed!!

What can I say, I’d rather be hit to the face as painful and humiliating as it can be, rather than being stabbed in the back; at least I can see it coming.

Today I was slapped at the face, and it still felt too personal and as painful as a stab in the back!

Bounced back instantly though; if there is anything for me to have learnt during those past few days was that happiness is too precious to be lost over such a jerk, or any other jerk for that matter!

I have a couple of things to learn… keep on my exercises so that my back wouldn’t relapse… and learn to bask in my happiness and enjoy it to the fullest; let my guard down and hope my happiness will protect me!

Still, hold on to the things that make me who I am because these are the things that make me deserve the good things I have…

So change, and yet remain who I am!

And I thought it was gonna be hard!

A Quick Reflection…

Yesterday, I decided to go to bed really early since I have one hell of a busy week ahead of me. I normally don’t have any before-bedtime rituals, but for some reason I lingered in front of my dresser.

Something about my messy curls made me decided to take a longer look and fix my hair. Untying my hair band I didn’t feel like brushing the curls loose, so I just fixed it with my hand and kept observing my face.

I looked different… I admit I had a glow about me, a glow I haven’t seen in such a long time!

For the first time in years, I looked at my face and felt pretty! I liked how almost round my face looked although round is not how anyone would describe my face. I liked how especially pink my cheeks were even though I blush as a reflex action to happiness, anger, excitement, heat, embarrassment, and you name it! Most of all, I liked how bright and shiny my eyes were.

Yes, despite all the inconveniences and my childish reaction towards them, I had it in me to be happy!

I washed my face, prayed, and jumped into bed.

Although my body was beat, my spirit was rather too high for me to fall asleep right away.

Without noticing, I found myself daydreaming… and that was when it hit me! I don’t even remember the last time I daydreamed!!! ME! I usually daydream 3ala roo7y!! That was when I realized that I have been swallowed up in all the stress, anxiety and drama to the extent that my subconscious gave up on daydreaming and crippled my imagination.

A big smile made its way to my face, visions of people and places kept flowing through my mind so smoothly; millions of happy scenarios and millions of imaginary possibilities that somehow made my spirit calm as if some invisible arms were holding me safe. And before I knew it, I was sound asleep, no insomnia!

I can hear my cynical self telling me I am digging my own grave with all those dreams; building up expectations and hopes over things that I can’t control! Who cares, I am happy for now, and as for my daydreams, nothing is carved on stone here.

On –happy- endings!

There was a time I was big on happy endings and big words like closure. I would jump to the last page of a book hoping it would give me a clue to whether I would like it or not, and even while reading, I’d skip details just to jump to the end much faster missing out on descriptions of surroundings or tones of speech! It never really made me enjoy books less for all I know. Part of it is due to being a Gemini I suppose; luckily, it came with good intuition that helped me guess or rather imagine the things I skipped!

It was not just about my intellectual preference; this is how I lived most of my life, always looking forward impatiently to what’s next. I always looked one step forward, which caused me to not enjoy what I had to the fullest. I’m not saying I didn’t enjoy my life, I am just saying that I could have done better, much better actually!

I always thought I’d live my life like a movie in a way, with a rather short duration with too much events, all taking place so rapidly before my time comes! And I wanted a happy ending, I wouldn’t have compromised for less; call it the Disney effect or whatever, but all I ever wanted was my own happy ending just like all those fictional characters.

Years later and on a closer look, I realize happy endings are everywhere. No, let me rephrase that; happy is everywhere, it just isn’t the ending, and perhaps even neither is sad an ending!

I read/watched it somewhere but I can’t find the exact words or the reference for it… They tell you how the movie ends, they make you believe that all the troubles cease to exist and that those in love find eternal happiness and live happily ever after! But they don’t show you what happens next; that in time, they get over their happiness and then troubles and bitterness catch up, and they start fighting over the smallest of things to the extent that their epic happiness is forgotten or no longer counts for anything. He’s never there and she’s always complaining, and then the happy ending turns into built up resentment from both sides… I really wish I remembered where the original lines of that meaning came from; they really speak for me.

Yes, we live our lives with the notion that we’re defined solely by endings when in reality, it is far more complicated; how can one be strictly defined by an ending of which they know nothing?! Or at least this is how I see it…

You can choose a special moment of victory in your life and call it your happy ending, making your life eternally revolve around the fulfillment of that purpose until the day you die.

Or you can freeze a sad moment of losing something you once held so dear and refuse to move on, creating your very own tragic ending.

Or you can just choose to take mental pictures of your happy moments to help you get over your sad ones as you go on in life from one adventure to the next, hoping that at the end of your journey the good will outweigh the bad and you’ll perhaps die with a smile on your face and be occasionally remembered with one.

In fewer words, it’s in the details that you find true meanings, not in the endings; ironically, closures have more to do with those details, only we get it at the end when it all adds up.

The Feather, the Flower, the Tree and the Rock

.

The feather is so light; its weight is almost insignificant. There is a mysterious beauty about its pale color and its tiny hair and frail curve. It has no roots; air blows it around to wherever it pleases.

It flies all over; it has no home, how can it when it barely ever settles. I am not sure if it’s a slave to the wind or if it’s free of all ties, but technically, it’s not alive to enjoy the journey, and I wonder how it would feel –if it were alive- about never belonging to one place.

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The flower is a piece of art with its beauty. It has colors so intriguingly matching its green crown and stem and you can see how each flower belongs to its tree. It is tied down alright, but it moves so gracefully in an eternal dance as the gentle wind carries its fragrance all over the place. There’s always a piece of it flying around making you aware of its existence.

With its beauty and its fragile ties, it can easily be pulled out from its roots by strong wind or a hand that wants to possess that beauty. Its life ends so abruptly, the sadder part is that its death seems to be so insignificant; even to the people who see it, it would be a truth to be accepted and then taken for granted! Shame!

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There is some sort of majesty about a tree; it’s a green kingdom in its very own way, it has branches, leaves, little flowers and sometimes even more! Most importantly, it has roots; roots running so deep under the ground tying it too strongly that it would take a hurricane to pose a threat to its existence.

The tree is giving to all its parts, it nourishes every little leaf there is; moreover, it gives people shades in hot summer days that would make them enjoy an occasional gentle breeze. But if a hurricane ever pulls that tree up its root, it is a disaster. Like the fall down of an empire, the tree falls, taking down everything on it, and perhaps even destroying its surroundings. The death/murder of a tree cannot pass unnoticed and cannot be forgiven; you can’t just shake something so strong and not deal with its wrath!

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The rock is not much of a charmer; in fact, no one ever stops to look twice at one! It could have a smooth surface or one that’s too rough. It could have a precious core or it could be just another rock inside and out; either way, people hardly care. The rock has no roots, it’s tied down to nothing; it's only held down by its own weight yet it is very stable. The rock is a small mountain; it would take an enormous change of its surroundings to move it, like tides in the bottom of the sea, or the grains of sand around it burying it or brushing away from it!

The rock lives for no one; it doesn’t even have a life for all I know. The rock is affected by almost nothing; it takes years and years to change anything about it, and the change is always gradual and almost invisible to the average by-passer. The rock lives a long rhetorical life simple because it has none.

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I think we’re made of all four, I think having them in the right amounts is what makes us survive trauma and stand up on our feet again. But I also think that the “right amounts” are relative; there are no right amount simply because each one of us is made differently despite being made of the same things.

I don’t know which parts of me are feather, flower, tree or a rock, but I surely related to each.

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 ;)

In people’s biggest strengths, thou shalt find their biggest weaknesses

It just hit me!

Like any self proclaimed narcissist, I am aware of my qualities because I strongly believe that I should nourish and enrich them; not just that, I am also aware of my flaws because by embracing them, I learn how to not let them cloud my judgments and try to keep them under control.

It helps me learn about myself when I talk to people; when I hear their opinions and compare them against mine and see where I can relate and where I just can’t. I don’t always share what’s in my mind in the midst of that process, and sometimes I don’t share at all, but I definitely learn a lot.

A lot of people told me I am very emotional and passionate, and it goes both ways whether it’s about something I feel positively or negatively about.

I know friends who would intentionally provoke me into an argument just to watch my face turning red as I get carried away to make my point! Sometimes, while presenting my case, I catch a smile on my friends’ faces that goes “there she goes”, which could make me pause with embarrassment while sometimes it just makes me laugh as I realize they’re doing it on purpose!

Whether people do it on purpose, and whether I am catching on to their tricks, either way I always get passionate when people (mostly those I am on friendly basis with) lure me into an argument. It’s one of my things I suppose!

Ironically enough, although everyone I know keeps telling me that my passion is one of my biggest strengths, I keep finding out how it is my biggest weakness as well!

I don’t have an off-button for it. Sometimes I act like a crazy emotional neurotic (and sometimes hormonal) version of Don Quixote as I go on and on explaining things and proving points to an indifferent audience. It drives me crazy that I can’t help it even when I know I am being pushed on purpose just to be drained out of my strength.

Needless to say, I feel pathetic as I watch myself drawn to one futile argument after the other just like a moth to flame! I tell myself I should stop; that I should take a moment to pause hoping that moment would baffle those who want to use my passion against me. I tell myself that by always replying, I sometimes end up dignifying someone’s false claim, and that sometimes the best arguments are the ones unsaid! Sadly, I rarely go by that plan, and the few times I actually do, I get too angry and sometimes I even burst in tears!!

Talk about deadly passion!

Now, what’s your biggest strength? Could it also be your weakness?

Bad things, they happen to good people too!

When I was growing up, nobody bothered explaining!

They told me stories from religion and those from fairytales, all conforming that “good things happen to good people and that bad people always get what they deserve”, nothing could ever question that logic.

In the great attempt of encouraging me to be a good person, they forgot to bring my attention to the hardships good people have to face before they get the good they deserved. They forgot to teach me that “good things come to those who wait”, keyword: wait; they forgot to teach me about patience.

It took me 25 years of being an average good person –a very impatient one though-, to realize that I misunderstood a few important facts about life. I was “good” because I did not want bad things to happen to me. My goodness was all about inflicting no harm on others; the point was that no one would do to me the things I never did to others. If I disliked someone, the most damage I could do was showing it by not paying any attention to them; that made sense in my head because it was better than being a hypocrite.

In the process, the person I harmed the most was I. I was not a good person as far as I was concerned, but I didn’t see it because when it came to others I was my own weird version of all the fairytale characters I liked! I could not harm others, not intentionally at least, but I did harm myself, both intentionally and unintentionally! Needless to say, bad things came my way even when I thought I was being good.

It didn't stop there! The agony and the pain of thinking I was good and being so messed up blurred my thinking for quite a long time! Since I was never really the depressed kind of person, anger was my outlet. Seeing good people I know, having their own load of hardships did not help either; it was extremely beyond me to understand or accept that bad things do happen to good people. I kept getting angrier and more resentful of everything around me, and I became my own worst enemy.

Of course being married to a crazy person who manipulated all that to his own interest and being pregnant and hormonal twice in less than two years did not help at all!

It took me a bad marriage, and all the things that came along with it to find my way and learn so many lessons I did not even know I should learn! Around the past couple of years, I redefined my understanding of life and people.

It was such a revelation to figure out that life is not as black and white as I thought it was. Although actions speak louder than words, things people do cannot always be explained from a black/white perspective! People are not necessarily all good and definitely not all bad! It's more like supply and demand but in a more complicated way because the factors defining those curves are not in anyone’s hands to control.

That was my hardest lesson to learn. Bad things happen to good people! It was hard to accept bad things, to understand that how I react to them can either help me understand the how’s and why’s or can leave me confused and angry forever.

Patience on the other hand is still something so hard for me to practice, I usually distract myself until things pass, or tell myself to just sit there and wait for the reasons to prevail, but I wish I would be patient more gracefully, I’m still working on that.

I’ve come a long way, and I like it here

"You've come a long way" That’s what two of my friends whom I’ve got to know through this blog have told me when they last heard about my last encounters with the x. They said they were proud, and hearing that from two people who have not even gotten to see how it was when I first started, I couldn’t help but feel much prouder.

That’s the thought that came to mind as he kept calling.

Flashbacks of me crying nonstop since it all started, memories of utter confusion and self-doubt. Small details that haunted me and took away my peace, I remember them all! Not as painfully clear as I thought I would always do; they don’t bring as much pain, almost none, but they are quite the reminder of what I’ve been through.

Like the few hours before my c-section… and before that, the long drives with my pregnant belly and tears blinding me. Like the stitches that kept coming off post surgery from all the weeping and sobbing. Like the public humiliation caused by all the lies and the insults. Like his girlfriend walking towards me and rubbing it in and the dentists who used such information to harass me… millions of small details that caused so much turbulence and led me to believe I could never bounce back.

So I guess yes, I never thought I would reach indifference. I spent too many hours wishing for revenge and hoping I’d see him painfully regretting all of it. My ego visualized scenarios of him asking to have me back and me harshly rejecting him and hurting him twice as much as he hurt me. There were times I even motivated myself to move on by imagining the negative impact it would have on him to see me taking control of my own life without him. Until recently, I would occasionally wish him terrible things when it gets too annoying for my taste, and then I’d silently blame myself and shake off the negative feelings or write about it when it was too much to be shaken.

Until he actually asked me to return to him, I did not realize it would mean NOTHING to me the way it did! My ego did not even gloat about it; it seemed to shake its non-existing head without the least signs of interest, who knew! I found myself smiling to myself, for indifference felt much better to me than any possible revenge I could possibly plot or hope for! I am grateful that way.

So no, you don’t have any hold on me whatsoever, and it feels liberating to really know that you can’t get to me like you once did. It’s not fulfilling that you keep asking me to reconsider, it’s rather discomforting because it makes me worry my continuous rejection will make you react violently. Men do not take rejection well, something about male ego… and let’s put it this way, you’re not the sanest of men, not even close.

When you keep asking dull questions that should give you hints on my so called romantic life, you make me wanna laugh! You wouldn’t understand, all those who smile at me like they know better do not get it either. My romantic self is brain-dead, she’s on life support and I am too afraid to declare it, but I know she would not wake up, and I am completely ok with it; it makes me feel safe that way.

And no, I don’t want a divorce so that I can get married, I dread marriage now, not just because of the horrible experience or the lessons I learned in the process, but also because I know I would lose my kids to you, something I can never live with… but would you know about that!

Stop trying to talk me into being with you, stop trying to talk me out of divorce. There is no chance in hell I would reconsider. Had you known me better, you’d know I would not compromise on that one; that’s what happens when you marry solely for love, you have no reason to stay once that love is beaten out of you :)

Let me enjoy my peace, and go look for yours elsewhere for I have none to offer you.

Life is funny, sometimes…

It’s extremely funny to see how someone’s tone can switch from soft and inviting to obnoxious and offensive when they know they are definitely failing to get to you. It’s even funnier to take it with a smile and find fulfillment in their anger as they withdraw. Priceless!!

Now let’s rewind a bit to get to that point…

He calls every day, more than once, and I answer, but not every single time. I answer because I like to confront my feelings and defy them; I know my dislike for him is huge, and I am taming my anger and discontentment and forcing myself to be civil around him until I can fairly say I reached indifference. Someone once told me I was my own worst critic that way; because I keep pushing myself to do the things I think I should do.

I told a friend of mine last week that my x’s tone is not making me feel comfortable; it’s like he still wants me back and he’s trying to be extra nice and sweet to make me “fall in love with him all over again”!!! He has no clue!

Throughout the week, I noticed how he’d call and start out by saying he was checking on the boys, and then he would babble on and on about his daily activities until he finally noticed my lack of interest with all my “hmm” and “aaah” that are not even synchronized with whatever he’d be saying.

He tried everything; he tried provoking me into arguing with him, to my surprise, I was not even tempted to honor his argument by answering or even saying a remark! He picked things that would annoy me, and it kinda did for a while there, only I managed to shake them off in less time than it took him to finish his sentence!! It was more surprising for me than it was for him! He ended up saying “damek ba2a te2eel awy”… I said in my monotonous tone without noticing what he was saying to begin with “ahuh, ghaleban”. We stayed silent for God knows how long until he realized there was nothing he would do to make me talk to him and just said “ok, I’ll talk to you later”, I just put my cell aside and resumed working on my excel sheet, like he never existed.

My recent indifference reminded me of that poem.

Confronting myself further, I wrote an email to a friend describing how I felt; how some of what he said kinda got to me, why I think they got to me, and how I told myself they shouldn’t. I admit I was a bit more upset after finishing the email, may be because I confronted myself way too much, but I soon forgot all about it having to finish up so many reports and go home to my babies.

Sitting on my bed and browsing away on my laptop, he called again. More or less the same scenario; soft tones hiding millions of futile ways to get under my skin, but I learned the trick, ignoring him is much easier when I am distracted checking my reader. He started the most pathetic thing, reminiscing! He kept talking about the good things he remembers of me, things I once did out of love, not because I wanted anything in return, things I would do again for anyone whom I care about half as much! And I was barely listening, so I didn’t know when it was my cue to say “aah”, so he was like, “do you remember?”, I instantly answered without thinking, “remembering does not make much of a difference really; it’s all meaningless now”… I did not say it to spite him or hurt him, I said it because it was how I felt!

That was when the tone altered dramatically as he turned into his most condescending tone “bey2olo elly maloosh mady we zekrayat, maloosh mosta2bal bardu”… I went BLANK!!!!!!! Normally I would have said something sarcastic or twisted his words to make him sound like an idiot, I would have found millions of way to use his own remark against him; instead, I didn’t even care the least to think of something, it just didn’t matter! He gave me his upset and hurt tone as he said “salam, and thanks a lot for the motivation, tesba7y 3ala kheir”, to which I replied “bye” and hung up.

After hanging up, it hit me that indifference has such a sweet sweet taste that’s only appreciated by those who stop caring. Either that or I have become numb. No complaints though, alhamdulilah.

I’m growing up!

My x called today. It was his first call since his aunt visited on Wednesday. She has noticed how I kept asking Beem about random words and their meaning in French as he talked; my own way of helping him practice what he learns at the nursery. She asked if I planned to put him in French schooling and I said it was my first option. She paused for a while and said “would you please involve their father in the process; he has financial obligations to which he should attend”. I nodded and that was the end of that conversation.

Today he called to say so many incoherent nonsense, most of which discussing his own perception of people who go through French schooling. According to him, they are fed too much culture, which in turn affects their perception of life, making them unable to deal with life from a practical point of view. He believes men his age who had received French education lack the macho factor and are rather nerdy with a touch of “nadala”! He is convinced that French education would limit my kids’ options upon graduation to “guys who speak fluent French but know nothing more about their jobs”!

For thirty whole minutes, I endured his shallow, arrogant, and condescending crap about men and women of our age category who happened to receive French education! For thirty whole minutes, all I wanted to tell him was that his skewed and distorted perceptions do not by any chance validate his weak theories. I wanted to tell him that if all the men and women he knows and judges so harshly are truly as bad as he described, then the one more thing they have in common other than their education would be him! I wanted to tell him that he’s not a better example to judge others, that his “athletic body” and “good looks” mean nothing at all when compared to his shallow personality and pseudo intellect that he uses to come off as a sophisticate!

Months ago, I would have gotten very angry and started yelling to the extent that I would have probably cried! Today, I just got upset, and I managed to change the mood by calling a friend of mine and laughing it off with her! Later, I talked to another friend about my fears of messing up my kids’ lives by not wanting them to be like their dad to the extent that I would turn them into an unhealthy extreme. Now, as I started writing this post, I was planning to write down the conversation and how it went, but to my surprise, I couldn’t even remember most of his exact words that got on my nerves!

Looks like I have finally learnt how to block the useless and unnecessary things that negatively alter my mood! All I remember of those thirty minutes is that he did not make sense and that his logic kept contradicting with itself making it rather funny to hear him babble on until I finally lost interest! Who knew!!!

A person of habit… I am certainly not!

Yesterday before I dosed off a thought haunted me. I was secretly admiring my sister for maintaining her dental care while I tend to skip it when I’m too lazy to get out of bed! I mean between my sister and me, she’s definitely the lazy one, but not when it comes to remembering she had not brushed her teeth before going to bed. So, I decided to find at least one single thing I do on daily basis for more than three weeks in a row. NONE!!! Oh except for my Pepsi addiction, not my most glorious moment finding that out now, but I can reverse that for the sake of the argument!

I am not sure if it a good thing that I am not a person of habit generally speaking, because sometimes a few habits are good for us, like my sister’s good habit. It hit me that I have been hiding behind the motto “… the more I know about something, the less I wanna know about it”*! That arrogant statement has managed to enhance my short attention span and made it a valid excuse to let go of things (and sometimes people) too soon, not that I have any regrets (as arrogant as it sounds).

That was when the Art Therapist’s words echoed in my head “You’re lost, find you. Find something you’re passionate about, and do it, you’ll feel different”. Right now, I have no idea what it could possibly be, and I am not even that eager finding out because I have a strong conviction that I will end up bored in such a short time. I know it’s not passion that I lack; maintaining it is rather the trick.

My wall of shame has a variety of things I attempted to learn which I never followed through! It’s such an accomplishment that I have managed to maintain a blog for over a year now! Actually, I think I’m losing that passion too; I keep writing things and erasing them, I no longer like the sound of my words. The only reason I am still holding on to this blog is because it’s the only mirror I have to my thoughts that I’m afraid I’d get even more lost without it.


* A quote said by Winona Ryder in “How to Make an American Quilt”. The quote is not necessarily accurate, but I related it to it the moment I heard it YEARS ago.

to losing…

Around a couple of months ago, I started feeling like I was losing something. The concept felt rather confusing because I was convinced that the “loss” was not even mine to lose! I was not sure why it was being lost, and I was not even sure if I really wanted it to begin with! And even now, I don't have such answers.

Elizabeth Bishop’s “One Art” kept coming to mind and haunting me. I had strong urges to just post the poem on my blog as an acknowledgement of my “loss”, only a little voice in me kept arguing that there was no real loss, and that if there really was any, it has not yet been lost! Thanks to my short attention span and my wide range of commitments, I ended up forgetting about the whole thing.

In rare moments, I thought of that “loss” and it kinda made me blue because I never really understood why I even considered it much of a loss. Anyways, earlier this month, while talking to a friend, I realized that whatever my “loss” was, I was ok with the term and more importantly, I was ok with the fact that it was no longer there. I found myself accepting and moving on, and it felt good.

Today, something very small and insignificant happened that reminded me of all that. As minor as it was, it was a sign that accepting and moving on were the right things to do and that losing things is not always that bad, even if it feels that way at some point. And in that spirit, I decided to post the poem from my new perspective.

To losing…

One Art
By Elizabeth Bishop

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.

---Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

On Fear…

Fear has always been viewed as a bad bad thing; I can understand why, I am not really arguing. Or am I?

People always go on and on about how destructive fear is, and how it keeps us from living experiences to the fullest or enjoying our lives and all that. People always criticize those who succumb to their fears and idealize those who overcome them. They have even come up with brilliant phrases praising those who rise above their fears, describing them as brave and courageous.

As much as everyone seems to have agreed on that, society seems to promote fear! How else would you explain why people refrain from saying or doing so many things!! Perhaps even more when it comes to women! Women are not encouraged to be bold, it is somehow claimed that it reduces their femininity or something; they always have to have some fears for their men to conquer!! But then again, is society manipulating fear to promote courage and bravery??! I’m babbling!

I think fear isn’t all that bad! As crippling as it is, fear keeps us from doing stupid stupid things, which we might view later as horrible mistakes. Fear forces us to consider consequences… in an awful awful way, I admit, but it gets the job done much better and more effectively than wisdom. Fear can be useful at times I suppose.

Look at children, they have no fear. Their cute little minds have not yet grasped the concept; it means absolutely nothing to them. Look at how many times they pull the funniest yet most stupid stunts that cause them to repeatedly fall and hurt themselves. They cry their hearts out, as well as they parents’, and they simply do them over and over again until they develop some certain understanding! Yeah yeah, learning and developing and all, but it’s too much pain as well, at least for someone who’s feeling as sore as I am right now, so spare me!

I have been a child for quite a long time that way; I still am in a sense. I face my fears and confront them by doing exactly what they would normally stop me from doing. If I had a nickel for every time I did something because I was too stubborn to succumb to my fears, I’d be a millionaire! I hate admitting that most of them were stupid things that I would regret had I believed in regret.

I would like to meet the wise man who said that the best way to conquer your fear is to face them and share my experience with him and tell him he should have added that sometimes your fears are there for a reason and that sometimes you need to spend more time finding out the reason instead of proving your fears wrong with utter ignorance motivated by stubbornness.

My dad used to push me to go ask for directions whenever we got lost in a foreign country to teach me that I should be daring enough, and well, to hide his own embarrassment for getting us lost in the first place. He always wanted me to be the brave boy he never had, but he realized when it was too late that he forgot to teach me how to listen to my fears. In his own way, he had shaped me into a girl admired for how different she was, problem is her uniqueness was not that easy to appreciate once one had to constantly deal with it.

All my life, people would admire/criticize me saying I am “garee2a awy” because I would bluntly speak my mind!! Well, they can rest assured now, I stopped; words seem to struggle to come out of my mouth thank you very much!

But I am still too stubborn to listen to my fears and reason with them!! I still dare them and do the opposite thing just to prove that I am better and higher; I am vain that way. And today after talking to my “khawafa” friend, I told her that the thing everyone criticizes her for is the exact thing I need to keep myself safe for a while.

So my dear friend, here is to fear, it’s not always that bad.

Change!

I was talking to a friend of mine about a movie, doing its critique together, when I found myself asking about change.

Do we change? Is there that one critical point in our lives that changes us to a completely different person? Our conversation went on and on until he asked me if I had changed; after all, I have been through my share of "life-changing" events! That was when I first heard my mind say those words before I typed them…

Yes, I have changed, not a huge significant change though for in a way I am also still the same in so many ways; more like I got to know who I am a little bit better than I once did. I know the things I would do and the things I wouldn’t. I know the things I accept and the things I don’t.

Today, I caught myself wondering if that was my changing point, or was it just a brief re-identification point, and my changing point is about to come and rock my world even harder?! This wondering makes me worry.I am not ready for a changing point, I want to hang in there and enjoy some peace, but knowing me, I know that this is as peaceful as it gets.

I know deep down that the waiting that I resent very much is the only peace I am ever gonna get as far as all this is concerned! At least I get to hide behind the pending events and blame it for everything I don’t like about my life right now. But after that, what will I do? How will I be all the things I want to be? My friend says “live one day at a time”. In fact, everyone who knows me tells me the same advice, what they don’t understand is that I do live each day at a time, only I know that I shouldn’t when it comes to certain things, and knowing that scares me.

Today, just as I am writing these words, I have come to the realization that I am scared and unprepared for whatever comes next. I have over-indulged in the events I’ve been going through, and over-dramatized them to the extent that I could not see or prepare for what's beyond them, to the day they will be over. This leaves me to the fact that I really don’t know what’s next, and I hate not knowing.

I think this is what I need to remind myself if the divorce does not go through next Wednesday. If it doesn’t go through, no need to get too upset or depressed, I am not ready for whatever's next anyway, no?