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!!!

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.

Only my x could make the US presidency elections about US!!

And I thought my blog would be the only Obama-free blog! How delusional of me?! I can always count on my x to find ways to link us to international politics; I mean hello, he’s the same guy who managed to compare our situation to the Palestine Israel conflict!

This is what I found in my mailbox…

“

Dear (my name),
Obama won the elections,,,that means even Americans can
accept a black president ,,,,which always was subject to never ever
status ,,,that means always there is a possibility of change to
better....if we want ,,,,rabena m3aky we yehdeky isa.....
End of day evil
goes away .....slmely 3la el awlad el gomal el wehos el kbeera
, we ya rayet lw 3ndek sewar gedid lehom teb3teha by mail with
thanks....
rabena m3aky isa

”

Seven words: You give political awareness a bad name!

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.

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.)

To pervy perverson…

For some reason I played it all in my head yesterday as I was dosing off and had I not been too tired to react, I would have gotten completely angry, but I ended up sleeping on that thought and waking up with a headache and an urge to throw up.

Whenever I heard stories of sexual harassment, I always thought “had it been me, I would have given my harasser a piece of my mind.” Truth is I never did! It’s disappointing to find out that I am not everything I’d like to think I am, and it makes me somehow mad at myself for being too shocked at your behavior.

Damn, I was caught off guard; I trusted you, I liked visiting and I enjoyed our chats, even the rather unfavorable ones. I thought you were skilled, well educated, sophisticated, and most importantly good mannered and had ethics; apparently I was badly mistaken and I am mad at myself for that.

I am MUCH younger than your daughter you pervert, I even perceived you as the sweet grandpa I never had!! EWWWW.

How could you –or anyone else for that matter- know of the mess my life currently is and take such advantage of it? It’s low and I find it impossible to understand, let alone accept!

You were told half of the story and you came to offer and adult’s opinion and I thought I made it clear that your advice was appreciated yet invalid. I was nice and sweet, and more importantly grateful for your kind words, little did I know!

Every time I remember our conversations and how all your remarks were dirty hints that I simply didn’t get because I am such a naïve person who still doesn’t get how people could be so twisted and sick. Arrgghhhh.

And it baffles me how you actually know my x and how it didn’t even disturb you that I might call him and that it might –just might- outrage him. Or was it him who made it sound like I was that cheap? I really don’t wanna know, I guess the fact that you know him well should have warned me, but the stupid utopian in me never assumes the worst of people.

I hate you. You disgust me, shame on you and your likes.

And I am angry at myself for not confronting you. For being too shocked to even look you in the eye and give you one of my glares. I keep remembering how I withdrew and how I tried so hard to pretend like I still didn’t catch on to your grossness and walked out promising myself I would never come back.

Now I need a new dentist because my temporary filling is decaying and I am starting to feel pain again, and the pain brings back those obnoxious memories. Uff.

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

The annoying post!

I don’t know the reason; it could be that it’s been a year, or the fact that my clueless colleagues keep suggesting we arrange for family outings with our spouses and kids since it’s summer, or it could simply be my anticipation over the whole court proceedings, but I have been remembering some annoying things said and done by him that cross my mind causing me to get angry until I just smile hysterically and think to myself “what goes around comes around, I just hope he gets it tripled!!”

So I am sorry dear blog readers, I don’t mean to get on your nerves, I just need to let them out so they do not take the much needed space in my head… feel free to skip; however, if you’re too curious, feel free to leave a comment saying what jerk he is… it always makes me smile :)


On my last birthday, this was his gift… I was still at my parents’ recovering from child birth; I was the one who drove all the way to Zamalek to pick him up so that he can come spend the night with us in Maadi! This is how it went…

• Him (all smilingly and lovingly): Thank you habibty for the gift, I’m the one who should get you something… but how did you know my right size after all the weight loss?
  Me (thinking WHAT NOW): HUH??!!
  Him (in a suspecting tone): enty mesh geety men showaya we tala3teely 7aga ma3 el bawab? Enty konty ma3aky meen, enty olteely on the phone e7na 3and semiramis??
  Me: mesh fahma!! I just came right after I called, beem is the one with me in the car since I left home!! I did not drop anything for you and I simply have not seen el bawab!!
  Him (in a tone that spells trouble): la maho mesh wa7ed mel bawabeen elly te3rafeehom, wa7ed beyeb2a mawgood from time to time… he said el madam gat we sabetlak da
  Me (ana 3arfa eno yoom edwed): eh da?
  Him: This t-shirt I’m wearing!
  Me (OH, I just noticed you’re wearing what looks like a t-shirt a 17 year old would wear, bright red, bright written text, and wow it’s tight!!): oh, this is new! I thought you had this since you’re high school/working out days!
  Him (showing off): no it’s new, enty makhadteesh balek men my new style!
  Me (oh my God it’s become a style, great, I’m married to a 30 year old dork): erm, ummm, ok! (change the subject change the subject CHANGE THE FREAKIN SUBJECT) so meen ba2a elly gabetlak el t-shirt we 3arfa ma2asak (yeah right!!)
  Him (3amel mo7rag): mafeesh gheer wa7da, bas ana mesh 3aref heya betfakkar ezzay…
  Me (interrupting impatiently and starting to get irritated): call her now we 2ollaha teegy takhod el zefta de wetla3 law sama7t elbes 7aga Tanya!!
  Him (showing how upset he is because of my attitude): gara eh ya3ne, enty et3asabty leeh, balash ne2leb el yoom nakad…

Of course el nakad followed and then he gave me long speech about how controlling and intolerable I have been since the day he met me; he did a good number that night that I sat down and wrote the most depressing post ever!! That was the beginning of the end.


Around the days he decided to come clean so we can give that train wreck of a marriage another try, thank God it did not work…

• Him (in a fake reminiscing tone): fakra awel film ro7na cinema sawa
  Me (yeah, tas if that was the best memory ever): yeah, Gladiator
  Him (laughing in that provocative way he doe when he wants me to ask him why he’s laughing): 7aga ghareeba awy!
  Me (I will not ask I WILL NOT ASK): yeah fe3lan 7aga ghareeba en awel film shofnah sawa u enjoyed it very much while I didn’t! wait a minute, we barely like the same movies!!
  Him (disappointed I did not ask): mesh asdi
  Me (bardo won’t ask): ok!
  Him (giving up and deciding to share anyways): asl awel film ro7to ma3aha kan 300… she didn’t enjoy it either
  Me (I WILL NOT CALL HER NAMES I WILL NOT REACT): ok ana mesh 3ayza atkalem delwa2ty ma3ak (DAMN, THIS IS A REACTION)
  Him (pretending it was not done on purpose): enty ze3elty?
  Me (mesh harrod): …
  Him (impatiently): la enty ba2eety amassa awy!!
  Me (I HATE HIM I CAN’T DO THIS I CAN’T)
  

For no good reason he decided to tell me what he liked about her!! Yes, he’s that crude!

• Him: 3arfa mezetha 3annek eh?
  Me (mezetha!!): kheir! I didn’t know she was better in me in anything!
  Him: not better, bas she was independent, law el 3arabeya 3etlet tezo2aha, te7eseeha ragel, laken enty dalloo3a we 3ala tool lady keda!
  Me (yanhar eswed! Ana daloo3a!! ANA!!): no one ever called me that, if anything people tell me ana be meet ragel!
  Him: fakra lama el 3arabeya 3etlet back when we were dating we 3ayatty?
  Me: I was 19!!! Kont mezawagha we ayla le ahly eny gowa el maadi we kona fel do2y, it was the first time I lie that way and I was gonna get caught!! Sorry, that was serious!!
  Him: tab law 3etlet mennek el 3arabeya delwa2ty hate3mely eh?
  Me: harkenha wakalem baba aw akalemak teb3atooly 7ad!
  Him (in a victory tone): EXACTLY
  Me: excuse me, I no longer drive a manual, and I have two kids!!
  Him: la2 enty daloo3a and you’re impatient and you like things done in a certain way, mat2aw7eesh
  Me: sa7, I am all that, why do u put up with me? and while you’re at it, do you even know the things I put up with?? Can you hear enta a3ed bet2ool eh??

When I finally decided to insist on divorce and announced it to him…

• Him (in a crying tone): ya3ne khalas, welly benna?
  Me (in a cruel tone): enta elly bawazto…
  Him (arguing): enty kaman makonteesh sahla, enty 3arfa how tough you can be…
  Me (interrupting): aw ana elly bawazto, it doesn’t matter, it’s over, I will not try anymore…
  Him: weladna?
  Me: hayefdalo weladna… bas da a7san
  Him: a7san ezzay?
  Me: ok, ha2olhalak besara7a… enta khalas no longer el bany 2adam elly 2a2dar a7ebo, wala atheq feeh wala a7termo… ba3d kol elly 3amalto feya, ba3d kol el kedb, ba3d el kheyana, ba3d el kalam elly olto 3alaya… a7san ab3ed 3ashan a3raf akhaly weladak ye7termook like I no longer can… (yes, I meant to repeat how I no longer respected him)

Later, he told everyone that I was “set mesh mo7tarama: for actually daring to tell my man that I don’t respect him!! No, he never admitted to the cheating that he told me about in unnecessary details and he never admitted there was even a platonic relationship; everyone he talked to thinks I am a delusional spoilt brat who did not appreciate the great husband he is!! I stopped explaining; yes, I said I did not respect him and the fact that he told people proves that I was right!!

Months ago, when we met in court for the first time…

• Him (trying to sound all kind): mesh 3ayza feloos?
  Me (be montaha el araf): you really think I need money?!!!!
  Him: I know you would never ask your dad for anything, I know you never ask anyone for anything
  Me: all the more reasons I would never ask YOU… anyways, I don’t need money alhamdulilah… remember how you always told me rez2y wase3, well, it’s true! Alhamdulilah

Later when we failed to talk in any civil manner, then he started talking about my dad with disrespect, so I stormed out of the room and asked the social worker to take t from there…

• Him: dana 7ata oltelha takhod feloos!!
  Me (totally losing my temper): enta enta enta…. (I couldn’t find an Arabic word for cheap and I didn’t wanna sound like a spoilt brat to the non English speaking social workers!!)

Last time we met at court in front of the judge and under oath…

• Him: dana 7atta metala3ha 3umra!
  Me (about to scream in disblief): ma7asalsh!!!!!!!
  The judge (screaming at me): masma3sh 7ess, ma7adesh yetkallem men gheer ezn

Later, outside the Judge’s room as his lawyer was trying to make us reconcile (reconcile my a**)

• Me (allowing myself to lose my temper, finally): enta tala3teny 3omra!! Enta!! Tab kont talla3 nafsak, 7atta takhod thawab beggad, la wala 3ala eh, enta mash bete3raf te2ool kelma wa7da sed2!!
  Him (be kol berood): ana mesh katabtelek mowaf2a mowathaqa menny ennek enty wel welad tesafro!!
  Me (ta2reeban kont batnattat): oh my God, you really believe the crap that comes out of you!! you really sound convincing enough to yourself!! Ba3d eznak ya ostaz folan (the lawyer), ana harawa7 lewlady!!
  Him: welady elly 7armany menhom?!
  Me: No no no no no, you don’t get to sound like a victim on that one… your son’s birthday party was weeks ago and you didn’t even bother showing up!! Weladak mesh me7tageen wa7ed zayak, we da men fadl rabena 3aleehom
  Him: rabena kebeer we shayef we 3aref, khaly el mo7amy beta3ek yedaya3lek mosta2balhom, dafa3teelo kam 3ashan ye7remhom men aboohom

My lawyer simply grabbed my arm and took me out of the building before I lose my mind!!


There’s a lot more but this is already four pages worth on word!!!! I feel better now knowing that the few people who will endure reading it till the end will probably leave me a comment that will make me smile!!

Tracing change…

I have always had temper. It’s part genetic from my father and my late nana, and part developed by other people’s expectations of me. A stubborn young girl with temper and annoying arguing skills was never what my parents signed up for. I would say lucky for them I had short attention span, but they always perceived me as a give-upper who simply lacked persistence! Talk about how hard it is to please parents.

My father tried to tame and train me like they do with wild horses. He would yell and scream, sometimes talk saying that I am a GIRL, and that girls should behave in a certain way. He would grind his teeth and say I should not have that temper and that I should be more submissive and perhaps say “na3am” and “7ader” more often. I always used to argue that I should only say them when I meant them, and that some people simply did not deserve to be told those words.

Exactly eight years ago I stopped being that girl. It started with a simple conversation that repeated itself in a bigger pattern for the past eight years! He said “let’s go have lunch”, I said “but I am not hungry just yet!”, he said with his once charming smile “mafeesh 7aga esmaha keda, hatakly ya3ne hatakly”, I smiled back and said “7ader”.

People I know were amazed at the transformation. The wild horse analogy was actually said by a friend who insisted that as much as I liked his “control” and willingly submitted to it, it would eventually kill my spirit once I realize I have given my freedom to the wrong person. Little did I know to believe those words! This is not regret, it’s just hindsight.

I no longer had that hot temper; I mean it was still there, only suppressed. Thing is, it was suppressed by my own will; I loved him and I learned to say “na3am” and “7ader” because it pleased him, isn’t that what “good girls” do. Little by little, I lost touch with who I was. I cancelled my own thinking and adopted his, and I silenced any inner voices and ignored all instincts willingly. Keyword here willingly.

It only made sense to believe him when he said I was inadequate, sometimes he didn’t even have to say it, all he had to do was give me the look, and I would jump through hoops to see that smile again. Not in the literal sense, because I have been told that even through it all, it always seemed like I had the stronger character! Now, I think it’s probably because he’s always been the weaker character, but he managed to suck his strength out of me.

The girl who used to get too angry to let anyone tell her what to do started containing her anger and doing as told! I learned to sit silently and watch him steal my anger and say words that would hurt me, only I never answered like I once would have. Instead, I would bite my tongue and refrain from saying something I would never be able to take back.

He taught me that! He took me from one extreme to the other; from someone who would blurt all the shit she had in mind to someone who would weigh every word before speaking it. It may seem healthy, but it’s not! Not when it’s done that way, and not when you suppress that much. My short attention didn’t let me dwell, and I wouldn’t have allowed myself to have doubts anyways.

I thought I was happy, I thought I had it all! And when his masks started falling one after the other, I was in a state of shock that my mind stopped functioning. I believed him when he blamed it all on me, I even apologized. I hate him for that. Yes, I do not hate him for the cheating or the humiliation half as much as I hate him for this. Sometimes I even hate myself for letting him do it to me. I am not sure if I can possibly forgive him or myself for that part.

When I finally saw him for who he was… (I tried but I could not find words that would describe any of my feelings… pages and pages would be written but I would still not be able to put it in words)

I thought I would never heal. I remember times when I couldn’t lift my body off the floor because I felt too weak to move a muscle. I remember times I wanted to die despite my fear of what comes next. I saw how frail I have become because of him; I could no longer relate to the girl everyone said was strong and independent! All I saw was a weak weak person who did nothing but cry out of pain, yet did not have the strength to stop her abuser from abusing her. I hate that person, I still do.

Through the past year, I have come a long way. I would say I healed, but I know better. I just know how to hide my wounds and pretend they are not there anymore, but I do know exactly where they are and sometimes I check on them hoping they wouldn’t feel as sore. As much as I seem to have talked about all of it, I don’t remember ever talking about those hidden wounds. They’re too specific and too painful that I think I will never be able to talk about them because I hid them so well I no longer remember those details as clearly, this is why they haunt me leaving me unable to speak.

I don’t know if this counts as an upside, but I think I learned how to control my temper. He taught me what every one else failed to teach me, in the cruelest way possible. It cost me a lot to learn how to think before I start yelling words I would regret later. I learned the hardest way possible that rash decisions can have drastic consequences. And now, people who have not seen me in ages can tell the difference, they see “wisdom” that did not just come with experience, but came with so much negativity!

In the past week, I have been losing my temper way too often for my recent taste. I yelled at my sister over the phone two times and hung up on her. I still think she deserved it because she knew I would get upset and perhaps counted on my newly found “wisdom” to stop me from reacting the old way. However, I surprised myself when I changed my mind about the decisions I was about to make in my anger, and instead talked to her when I saw her later like it was no bog deal.

I am proud of finally being able to behave rationally to an extent, but I am not specifically happy about how I got there. More importantly, I am not happy at all that I do more silent treatment when I still find myself upset. I learned to not expect much from people, but somehow I am no longer able of telling them what I want of them. This is something I found out today as I took my time thinking and reflecting on my so called anniversary.

I know I shouldn't be shocked!

I’ve been thinking about that since last week.

My kids... they need to interact with the x and his family whether I like it or not. It’s not just because I must keep them out of the “battlefield”, and it’s not because they need him, it’s more because they need to NOT romanticize him or his family.

I find it a bit selfish because I know I will never be ok with either one of my boys missing their daddy in a way that would make them put him on a pedestal and idealize him. He does not deserve that; God knows what he deserves. I will not help him make a hero out of himself.

As for my kids, I think it’s better for them on the long run to not have a pseudo big image of him or his family for that matter. They should learn to know, deal with, and accept them for who they are. I think that learning to do so early on will help them build character. If it makes them “grow up” sooner, then be it.

I was driving while all those hit me, I don’t remember why or how, but I remember that I saw the day when either of my kids would want to propose to the girls they would want to marry. I wish my dad long life and good health, but even then, they will need a father. I just hate to say that my father isn’t theirs; I wish he were, but he’s not. I don’t want them to have no memories at all when they have to ask their own father to be with them, I don’t want them to feel awkward approaching him. I think bad memories of him beat no memories at all this way.

So, now that I tried to explain what I had in my head, I can say it made sense that way to arrange for Mocha’s Birthday Party outdoor to leave my x no room of saying he couldn’t be there. I invited two of my friends and their families who can handle anything nasty he does on that day.

My dad said he was totally ok with it, except that he did not want to be in the same place with my x, so he excused him self and asked me to invite his best friend (my dad’s) instead to make sure there will be someone to look after us. I know where my dad comes from; he does not want to be there if my x or his family do anything provocative and leave him no other choice but to react.

So, I called his aunt, and in my most polite tone, I told her that all are invited to Mocha’s BD on Monday and that I will get back to her on the exact hour today. I asked her to bring the x’s little cousins (12 & 6 yrs) because it will be a kids’ party. Could I be any nicer?! Yes! To her, I should call my x and invite him. I told her I couldn’t because he had just sent me two annoying text messages earlier that day, and given that, I find it hard to interact with him at this point and that perhaps the whole birthday party would be a start of us learning how to deal.

The civil x of mine has been calling non stop since 9 am, waking me and mocha up and something about him calling over and over seemed violent, so I switched my phone to silent and dosed off for a while longer. I woke up to the most annoying text!! He’s practically telling me to “save my money”, that he will not show up since I should have invited him instead of sending the invitation through his aunt, and he said something about me having to explain the things I do to my kids one day, and that he's looking forward to that day.

Now, I know he’s a pig and that I should not expect from a pig to be anymore than itself, a nasty dirty manner-less pig. What keeps pissing me off is that he does it all while finding ways to blame it on me still!! Could he be anymore immature and irresponsible? Is there an English word equivalent to “اليل الأصل” that still keeps the essence, because that’s what he is.

I really hope what goes around, comes back around and bites him really really hard. Until then, I am making the Monday birthday anyway, my kids will have fun and so will everyone who shows up.

El magnoona aheh, aheh!!

Today I had another court interview, which I only knew of yesterday around 8-is! So my dad tells me his driver will drive me from work to the court in downtown and wait for me to drive me back to work so that I wouldn’t waste much time in finding a parking space. My interview was at 10-10:30, my mom called me 9:50 to tell me that the driver is no where to be found and that I should start moving!!!

Ok, cool, I’m a fast driver, and it was still early in the day and traffic was not expected to be a nightmare just yet. I drove all the way to downtown, Abdeen Square, drove into the street where the court is, and headed for that parking space where I usually leave the car (I find it sad that the dude in the parking recognizes me now). The parking was closed.

Almost 20 minutes and three rounds around the court house I started losing patience. I did not want to be late and have to apologize for it. Luckily a police officer noticed that I have been going all around so he pointed out a place a block behind, which was blocked by another car. He said that he will send someone to move it for me. On my way to the same place he pointed, just a block away, I found some man getting into his car, so I asked him if he was getting out, he nodded, so I told him that I will park in his place.

Like any civil person, I double-flashed, waited patiently until the guy started his car, and I could notice that every other person around was yelling “estana, hagy makanak”, but nooooo, this is my spot. As he left (FINALLY), I drove a tad forward to get into the parking space and baaaam, that idiot got into MY SPACE!!! And that was when I just “LA BA2A MAYENFAAAAAA3SH” in my loudest tone of voice, which basically came out sounding like a roaring wild animal right before it died (I have a bad cold that makes it sound a frog had died in my throat, that's what my dad said anyway)!!

YES, the guy backed out of the parking!!! Everyone in the street was practically telling him “etla3 etla3, seblaha el rakna”!! I heard random phrases questioning my sanity. I didn’t care, I got my space and I freaked a jerk who has no manners out of my space, yaaaay me. Apparently the phrase “hasawat we alem 3aleek el share3” has an effect, I think the jerk really feared I would do something of the sort!! I was happy it worked because my yelling was nothing but an expression of utter frustration, only my car window was opened and I was a bit loud!

As I got out of the car and slammed the door (sorry car), the guy started saying annoying crap, I took off my shades and gave him on long dirty stare and made it seem like I was about to walk in his direction, and just walked the other way into the court. I am almost sure he thought I was crazy.

Of course, I can barely say anything in an audible tone, sooty raaaa7. But it was totally worth it :))

So girls everywhere, want a parking space in Cairo, especially downtown, act crazy and start screaming like a mad woman, a guy or two are bound to freak out and give you their own parking space!! This is definitely a day where I liked being a woman :)

14 calling attempts later…

it’s true, el zann 3al wedan ammarr men el se7r!!

Me: *be7edda* na3am! Fe eh? What’s going on?
Him: *in his most cheerful tone* Ana bas bassaba7
Me: *impatient tone* saba7 el kheir, saba7 el noor, khalas?
Him: *the tone gets more cheerful* We 3ayez 2a2ollek 7aga Kaman…
Me: *the tone gets more impatient* kheir???
Him: ana olt afganistan eh webta3 eh, adawar 3ala shoghl fe masr a7san
Me: *trying so hard to contain the laughter* (tab mana 3arfa ennaha tamseleyea ya…) bera7tak, it doesn’t concern me
Him: *more cheerfulness!!* Ezzay ba2a, dana ha3od 3ashan ne work things out
Me: *still trying to contain the laughter, yet the tone also started to show impatience again* te work eh out, enta bethazzar!! (howa ana mesh hakhlas ba2a)
Him: ya (my name) dana a3ed fe masr 3ashanek, mastahelsh te32aly keda we tefakarry, tab 3ashan weladna
Me: (ya nahar sewed, da messada2 eno a3ed fe masr 3ashany) ba2olak eh, 2e2fel el sekka, yalla yalla, abl mate2leb ghamm
Him: tab (the nickname I gave him) habeebek mayestahelsh another chance, mocha turns 1 in a week or two!
Me: *getting really loud* BYE

*I hung up*

I rejected three more calls, and I have one addiotnal missed call to the earlier mentioned 14… UFFFFFFFF

اللهم إني لا أسألك رد القضاء، و لكني أسألك اللطف فيه... إشفي يا رب... أو خده