Eureka

Wow. These counseling sessions are great. I explained the whole experience with me and Heavens to my counselor. As I described Heavens with the words I normally use to describe her - that she is a pillar, my mountain, a source of strength, etc. - she said, 'you know it seems that you have kind of taken Heavens on as a mother figure'.

How true.

I see it all now. It is so clear to me. And it explains so much.

And as for my other friend – the one I have blogged about many times...the one who knew of the relationship while I was in Phase 2 and still 'in love' – lets call her Hope for simplicity's sake - well, I realize it now as well. For her, when I first became close to her, I took her as a daughter figure. I took so much care of her. Cleaned up after her and even put money in her wallet without her knowing when she was having financial trouble. I know I can bend over backwards for her for pretty much anything.

I made Heavens my mom, and in her actions and in our relationship I want from her what I have always wanted from a mother. With Hope, I treated her, and displayed so much patience and care with her, just as I hope my mother would do for me.

Transference. That’s what they call it in counseling terms.

It makes perfect sense to me. I now understand why I am so attached with these two girls and why my mood is so pegged to Heavens and why I take care of Hope the way I do.

Each session I keep on telling my counselor that I came with the intention to talk about my relationship with my mom and this experience that I experienced, and I haven’t even gotten to it yet. But I am. Lo! I am.

I don’t know what to do with this realization – but it is like a huge eureka moment for me. I now understand perhaps why these relationships are what they are and they mean what they do to me. Now I perhaps can understand for myself the relationships that so many people have been surprised about and commented on because they cannot understand it for themselves. ‘Normal’ friend relationships are not quite what Heavens and Hope are to me.

May God preserve my relationships with them, and may this clarity only strengthen our bonds.

update | "move on"

my cousin went to visit the family - his family...she suspects he is seeing someone else (he is still married).

she told me to "move on" and that its not worth it to allow my memory of him to run my life. i have to stop being angry she says. he has moved on with his life so i should to.

im not surprised. its expected. dropped me and moved to someone else...i knew it. but i wish i could just erase his whole existence out of my life.

he has messed me up, is still messing me up, and messing my relationship with people up. i hate him so much.

the way i love

when i was 'with' him i convinced myself i loved him. and that meant that as a lover i would take all the pain he was causing me. i would experience his pain with him and find solutions for him, just as i would try to fix my own problems. i swallowed whatever it is he brought my way in the name of love. i tried to find innovative ways of how i could give off myself to make him feel better. i buried my pain because i thought when you love, you do so unconditionally and you take whatever it is that comes forth.

i created this standard of love.

the next person i grew close to was my friend which i have mentioned before - the one i told first about my experience. i was hurt a lot when i realized that she couldn't love me in the same way - to feel my pain in the same way i thought 'loving' meant one had to - the way i experienced his pain. i have learned so much from her because she bluntly gives me wake up calls and brings me back down to earth.

and then with Heavens, i have grown so attached. and because she has expressed that she loves me, i have placed the same expectations on her subconsciously. despite how much she has given me, i expected more and more. i want to change this about me. like she said, just because for me i can stretch myself and try to place myself in another person's shoes to experience their pain - and that i love to do that in the name of love - not everyone can do that and not everyone wants to do that.

ur such an ass. that's all i want to say to myself right now.

i hurt my friend

when i started to go to counseling i decided that i wouldn't tell anyone. my friend Heavens had convinced me that i needed to go after the last sandstorm i had, but when i made the calls and attended the initial assessment session, i didn't tell her about it. she had mentioned to me that in her own journey of healing, she would make sure that she kept certain things to herself, and that that gave her a sense of strength stronger than any other sense of strength - that to be able to do something on her own, by herself, meant she was healing through it.

silence has never been my way with her - i love to share with her many things. but this time i said no - i'll keep it to myself. many times since that conversation she mentioned that i should consider counseling and each time i would say okay but not tell her.

this week i was supposed to have my first karate competitive fight. i have been anticipating this for months and have been training hard. yesterday i found out that it was canceled. i was bummed out. and who did i go to, to vent - i went to Heavens. for three hours i typed none stop on my smart phone about many things - the fact that i was hurt she wasn't going to make it to the fight (she had planned to but then couldn't).....the fact that she never read my blog (although i had the expectation that she would and although i understand it was very hard for her to do so).....I told her i felt alone and that life has taught me that for somethings u have to experience things on your own no matter what.

i also told her i am seeking counseling.

she wrote to me today and said that when i told her that she cried a lot. it made her feel used because she has been trying so hard to make me feel better and here I was seeking counseling trying to make myself feel better while she didn’t know I was getting this external help. in her own words, I made her feel like she had been 'slapped' when i told her i felt alone because she has been trying so hard to be there for me (despite the many real struggles she has been facing in her own life), and yet I felt so alone. she feels she gives so much and now she feels I don’t get it....that I don't see it or feel it.

Heavens has been stretched thin and I have been stretching her further. and here I was getting this additional help and never told her. and its help she has encouraged me to seek because she felt she couldn't give me what i needed although she tried - and its help she herself has been wanting to seek but can't afford.

how needy am i and how bad of a friend am i to impose myself in this way on Heavens despite her being there for me so much?

if i could tell her something it would be that i just started counseling and the reason why i didn't tell her was because i was trying to experience some of this strength that she gains from silent actions. i would also tell her that despite the fact that i believe the few sessions have been beneficial, it doesn't replace her role in my life and my need for her. i would tell her i realize that i have imposed myself on her and i am sorry - that i love with a particular standard of love which i have made her feel that i expect and its not right of me. i would tell her that u have been a great source of strength to me and i hate myself right now for causing u pain and contributing to the physical sickness she has been experiencing because of everything that has happened to her and the many people that rely on her.

but i would also say that she cant be upset at me for not telling her. whether i told her or not i still need her in the same way. what may need to change is why i have grown to need her the way i do. its not fair for me to expect so much from her.

why do i expect it? and why do i expect it only from Heavens?

things i need to work on.

Instead of talking without a direction, I think I should set a few goals for myself regarding what I want to achieve from these counseling sessions. This is my list as of now:

1) fix my heart when it comes to my parents, especially my mom.
- I do not have patience when I feel my parents are trying to control me, and I often feel my relationship with my mom is one where I am trying to uphold my obligation as a daughter rather than to love her for the sake of loving her. It was her birthday this past week. I arranged for a gift to be delivered to her - but when she finally got it and I spoke to her on the phone I was very sad. I didn't feel love in my heart for her or share the happiness that she presumably felt once she received the gift. I want to love my mom the way I love people I hold dear to me.

2) dont let this experience consume my entire being.
- When I feel I fail at something, I feel as if I have somehow allowed him to 'win yet again'...every failure is a testament to his affect on my life. Alternatively, when I feel good about something, I also think of how it relates to the experience. The other day I felt I had a really productive time at school. It clicked near the end of the day that the song that I had on repeat in my earphones was Rihanna's Unfaithful. I've written about that song before...when I was listening to it on repeat the other day it gave me sense of power - as if I was cheating on him, but felt good about it because it was something I was able to metaphorically do - I could be his 'murderer'. While I enjoyed my progress on my work, all I wanted to say is 'in your face'

3)control my bursts of anger.
- I want them to go away. I don't like having them. I don't like the feeling of weakness that I get after I am done with them.

4) allow myself to have a normal relationship one day.
- I freaked out when the guy I was considering for marriage last year tried to touch me. I don't want to be haunted by flashbacks when I am intimate with my husband after I marry, God-willing.

5) stop questioning why I haven't heard from him or why he has just been able to move on.
- Who cares? Forget him. Don't allow him to make you feel so sad.

So...that's my list for now...I may add more as necessary.

What do you think of my list? Anything else I need to work on?

c.o.u.n.s.e.l.i.n.g.

Yes. I went.

Counseling is offered through the university and I decided to set up an appointment. It was this morning. Today was just a consultation. I don't really know what kind of help counseling offers but many people on this blog, as well as the three people I told about this experience (my two friends and my cousin), have mentioned that I should go. And after this week I figured it was time for me to go.

I've had a rough week. I feel perfectly fine now - in fact I feel more positive than I have been in a while. But this week I had a major sand storm while on the phone with my parents. My father was asking me to try to finish my thesis within the year, and although that is pretty much very impossible (since I just started research!) he was adamant that I can do it. While on the phone I started throwing things - a couple of chairs, and fell to the ground. He didn't know what I was going through as I kept my voice composed...but I was very angry. When I hung up I was pretty violent - yelled and swore, threw a few more things and slammed a cabinet door really heard three times. I tried to tell myself to calm down but I couldn't. My heart was racing at 100 miles/hour. I think the entire episode must have been maybe a minute long, after which I was normal. Much of the time I was going through it I was saying to myself - 'why are you trying to control me now? why didn't you control me when you should have?'

After it I got really scared. I do not want my kids to ever witness this if I become a mother one day. I knew something needed to be done. I did some sparring at the karate club that night and I did horrible. When I came home all I did was sit on the couch for two hours doing nothing. My failure was a failure vis a vis my experience, as if he won. I was feeling very heavy and the following day I cried so much in my office as I prayed. Its been a while since I cried - I've had trouble crying for the past couple of months (before crying was a natural thing for me). That night I slept at 7pm.

Then on Saturday I went to the karate club for some more sparring. I was holding back tears by the end. When everyone left, I just sat there crying hysterically - really just released all my pent up emotions. It was important. I was glad that I had decided to make the appointment to meet the counselor the day before.

Things are fine in general but I have episodes of random emotions and deep deep sadness. The sadness usually has something to do with my parents.

The counselor today told me that when it comes to incidents of childhood sexual abuse usually they recommend long term counseling but with my blog, my 'own intelligence', and karate (the counselor's words) she feels I've made a lot of progress on my own and will put the recommendation for short term counseling for me (5-10 sessions). I'm still not sure how this will all help, but I'm looking forward to it.

expectations.

At around 6 yrs old I was riding my bike in my neighbourhood and I saw a car driving towards me (we didn't have sidewalks). I got nervous and feel off my bike. The person probably came out to help me…I don’t remember – but the next thing I remember is being in my bedroom lying in my bed. Soon after some of the neighbours had come to see me – I suppose to see if I was okay…the news must have spread.

I was surprised that they had come. While I felt perfectly fine (the car didn’t hit me I had just fallen), I thought "Oh my goodness maybe I have to legitimize their visit here by being a bit ‘sick’ so they feel their trip wasn’t wasted"...their trip to come see me that is.

All I remember is having that thought process in my head. I don’t remember whether I actually acted sick or was just me (although I probably did the former).

It is probably the first experience I remember of having defined myself by the expectations I felt people had of me.

Hyperventilated

Throughout this whole entire experience...when was it that I felt the most without control...the most in need...the most weak?

It was sometime in 2008 - almost a decade into the whole experience. After years and years of this, I reached a point where in my eyes there was no man better than him. I was madly in 'love'...truly, madly, deeply. By 2008 though, I had made the decision to leave - to move countries to get away and learn how to stand on my own two feet. I wasn't strong enough to carry through and I broke down many times. 'Here is a man you love, why are you moving away from him?' I'd question myself. And even as I knew the whole thing wasn't right, there were times that I wanted it more than anything. Other times I wanted to leave more than anything. On this particular day, I was weak because I felt I lost my grip on him. I felt he stopped loving me. I felt he stopped missing me...stopped needing me. It killed me.

I was at work and he had traveled to someplace in East Africa to visit family. We were together like before at that time, just long distance...settling with long phone conversations and web-caming for hours on msn. When he traveled...he seemed like he forgot me. I would send message after message and he would not reply...I would wait for him online and he would not show up...I would check my inbox for any word from him and get nothing. Then I called him...I was missing him all too much...I was going crazy and could not contain my feelings. And, I was scared. I was worried that something was wrong with him. I was worried he might have been in trouble...maybe fallen sick...something wrong.

I went to a senior at work and made a desperate plea to allow me to use the international line because I had to make an extremely important phone call. She saw the desperation in my eyes and offered me her cell phone...she couldn't break the rule by letting me call from the work line. I tried...it didn't work. I tried again...it didn't work. There was a meeting I had to attend in 10 minutes and I knew I wouldn't be able to sit there for 2 hours if I didn't hear his damn voice.

Finally...I dialed...and he answered. "Jaan, where have you been...I've been trying to contact you. Are you okay where are you?"...these are the words I thought I would say when I finally heard his voice. I was expecting to hear a somber voice...maybe too quiet to hear because he was not well. I got the opposite.

As soon as he said his first hello, I knew he was okay. Everything was fine on his end...in fact he was having a blast. His voice was lively and he was having a great time...everything was okay. A roller coaster of emotions in a split second took me over. The first were tears of relief that he was okay...I felt my heart finally stop clenching. Then sadness and hurt...he was fine and I was suffering and he didn't even seem to care. My hear felt slapped and bruised. And also shock. How can a man change so much?...how can he just forget that we've been in touch everyday for so long and now all of a sudden he forgets. He called me his wife. What was happening now?

"Why haven't you contacted me I was so worried!" I said in tears. His reply made me hyperventilate..."I can't talk right now...I'll call you back. Everything is fine. Don't worry okay".

What had changed? Why was he acting like he didn't care for me anymore? Where did this change come from. I was shaking and crying and I couldn't breathe properly. I felt utterly weak. I called my friend who was out of the office at a client. I was sobbing uncontrollably. "What's wrong - what's wrong?" she asked. "He doesn't care, he doesn't care..." I cried. Her silence while I wept gave me strength. She was listening and she knew my pain. That's all I needed.

Her advise was that I go for a walk and skip the meeting. I wouldn't allow that. He can't be having a good time vacationing with his family while I was in a state of disarray. I locked myself in the washroom...wiped off my smudged mascara and prepared myself to sit through the meeting. "I got some sand in my eyes..." - that was my excuse for the redness.

While I sit here recounting this story, I am remembering the many different times that I should have seen that I wasn't much of anything to him but someone to satisfy his needs. He made me feel so important, but there were so many incidents. The time he raised his voice at me when I told him I didn't want to play that hide and seek game in the dark - we were all kids and he would make me and him partner up so he could touch me while his children tried to find us. The times he told me he needs me and how because he loves me he can't sleep with his wife...yet by chance one day his phone had called mine and on my voice-mail was a few minutes of me hearing him moan and groan as he made love to his wife. I told him about it...made him listen to it in fact (which he did for a few seconds). He was saddened and said he had to make love to her for her... I didn't mind. She was his wife..but he lied to me. Up till today I wonder if that phone call was a mistake or whether he intended me to hear the sounds of him making love. The times he would force me to be intimate with him when I was tired...or when my body was sensitive and it was more painful for me than anything...no pleasure. All he wanted was his fix. And I never saw it as that - I seriously thought he needed me. And that fix came easy from me I guess...there was one time where me made me feel so possessive over him as he told me about this young, beautiful woman who had crushed on him. For months he would tell me about how she would show up at his work or gym...and there was a time where I even exchanged emails with her telling her to leave my man alone. "I went out with her for coffee to see if I could do it..."..he said..."and I couldn't..that is how I know how much I love you" he said to me. Lies, all lies.

Yet...there I was. Hyperventilating because here was a man I loved and he was showing me no care.

Why do we allow ourselves to be abused to this extent in the name of love? The man violated my body. We never penetrated, but he tried to make use of every chance he had to ejaculate. Three, four, even five times a day if he had the chance. And sometimes I didn't have to do anything. He would do what he needed to as I lay down like a fish thinking of my next biology assignment. Sometimes I would be so fed up I'd be so aggressive and do things 'animalistically'. That wasn't enjoyment (contrary to what he believed)...it was desperation. I feel like I need to shower just remembering how much happened. Disgusting.

I'm sorry. I'm being graphic today. A very dear friend of mine is facing a situation, and I feel her pain. Men and love can be a dangerous mix...and its sad when its those with the most beautiful hearts that have to face the brunt of the abuse.

What a journey...

Its Ramadan again...almost a year since I began this journey of reflection and remembering...of self-discovery and strength building. Alhamdulillah.

Yesterday I was at the mosque praying taraweh - a prayer that Muslims usually pray at night during the month of Ramadan. The last prayer is called withr and the imam often makes emotional and long dua (supplications) to God. Yesterday, the imam made a dua that I hadn't heard before. He asked God to 'forgive the man that needs forgiveness'.

When I heard that, the first thing I thought of was him. I saw his face with those puppy eyes I have mentioned before. I made a prayer that God forgives him. I never thought I would go from complete hate and disgust, to now praying that God forgives his soul for everything that elapsed...and this time I know I am sincere in my asking for his forgiveness.

We are all humans, frail and weak. And we all make mistakes. And yes we make horrible and bad mistakes. But if God can forgive, who are we not to? Who are we to have hearts that are hardened and heavy? Even if I forgive him, I know he still must answer to God for all that happened. But to be honest...for me it means I am letting go of the baggage and blemish he marked in my heart. I'm a free bird ready to soar great heights and not be weighed down by the burden of hating another person. I'll let Allah deal with his deeds...

I remember just a few months ago I had asked a spiritual leader about forgiving a person who has wronged you - and he said when you travel on the path of purification of your heart (tazkiya) you will surely reach a state where your anger to others turns into mercy. I pray that God accepts my heart, and that He answers my prayer. I pray for my own forgiveness too.

I'm ready to love...and now I can love with no other man in my heart. Even if his presence in it was one of resentment, it would have still inhibited me from loving purely and truly.

Thank you for helping me with my journey. Certainly the most important and transformative year of my life. God is Greater than all.

Waves.

When I come back to this blog, it reminds me of the ebb and flow of waves...I come usually when I feel I need to.

I got an email today from Al Maghbrib Institute - an organization that is both an Islamic education institute and one that offers development training, amongst other things. They will be holding a seminar soon called Threads of Hope, and it is inspired by the story of Prophet Yusuf, Prophet Joseph in English, on how through studying his life, we can take many lessons.

Today Mohamed Al Shareef - the founder - sent this short 5-minute video: http://www.facebook.com/nationbuilder.prime

The message in the email was:
========================
But
The touch felt...
What was it? She asked herself
Icky.

Later
She started
crying.

Would you like to know how the life of Prophet Yusuf relates to this situation?
========================

Its ironic that I got this email right now. I saw his face in my dreams today...its because I saw pics of him yesterday. He looks exactly the same - forever young. The family have gone on a trip together (2 different families). Again his face in my dream was that of someone sad - as if remorseful. But yesterday, as I saw my cousins in the pictures (young girls in their middle to late teens), I wondered - just wondered - whether he was at it again.

The lesson from the life of Prophet Yusuf - announce it! Let it be known...speak to someone...hold the person accountable. I wonder if I ought to? Whether I should. Whether I can.

No one needs to tell you.

My friend just found out she was not accepted into the PhD program she applied to. She was sure she would get in. I was sure for her. The other day I wanted to donate blood. I was rejected. They said I had low iron in my blood. The first thought that came into my head was 'I know my blood is good. I do not need a machine to tell me whether my blood is worthy or not'.

In the same light, you do not need anyone to tell you what you already know about yourself. To my friend...I know she is a scholar - a scholar and a half! No program needs to tell her that. She should know it...and deep inside she does know it - I know she does. No one should have to tell us we are beautiful on the outside for reassurance...because deep inside we know we are beautiful. No one needs to remind or dictate to us how pious or close to God we are...because deep inside we know where we stand when it comes to our spirituality. No one needs to validate that we are being wronged when we are wronged...because if we feel we are, then we are. Our hearts know.

Mirror mirror on the wall...I do not need you to tell me anything. The most honest of opinions come from deep within you - no sugar-coating and no exaggeration. You know. Know yourself.

Abuse. (without the question mark).

I'm feeling very uneasy right now. I have a pile of work I need to finish for school that is due Thursday; my grandma is not feeling very well and is very weak; I have non-school things that I must get done this week too; and, my friends are coming to visit for the weekend so I need to make sure I'm done everything I need to by Thursday night. Bismillah...this will be quite the feat. Plus...I didn't workout for 2 days. That is not normal behaviour for me...it is as if something is out of place when I don't.

I'm also anxious because I've been meaning to write this post for a couple of days now and just never had the time. After the article was published on altmuslimah (see previous blog post on how I spoke to HEART)...I have been reading so many comments from readers on the story. At first, it was as if those comments were not about me at all. I felt like an observer, reading about Rania's story like everyone else. Then the comments on the blog began fluttering in...and a couple of emails were sent directly to me. It was a bit overwhelming. And, I cannot explain why.

When I see words of praise...of me being brave or strong....although I do appreciate it, it does not move me at all. I truly do not see brevity in what I am sharing. Instead, I just feel as if its the most natural thing for me to do. And strength...while I do feel stronger than before...I don't know...strength is something that comes from God alone and all credit is due to Him. Sometimes I feel very weak. Even the strongest of things face earthquakes once in a while. So I read the word, and move on. What I appreciate most about the dialogue that has emerged, however, is that I have been given a perspective I have not been exposed to ever before. I have not had anyone speak about the experience so openly and for them to share their thoughts in this way. It has been a lot to take in...but truly so important.

The other day, while walking to the Karate club, I thought to myself...'you know, what you experienced was abuse. and you were a victim of abuse.'

For the first time I feel like I can categorize the experience as abuse. One of the comments said that when we categorize what happened as a relationship, it masks the experience as something that was legitimate. And it was not legitimate. So, it should not be referred to by anything that gives it that impression. I agree.

Several comments talked about how it was certainly abuse, because when it began there was only one party that was able to make a free and informed decision. My going through with the experience...even it seemed 'consensual'...was not consent. There cannot have been consent on my part because neither was I making a free decision, nor an informed one. I was too young, and he was in a position of power - not only through age but also his status in my family and life.

Someone made a comment about my first post on this blog...about the experience I had where I was in sex-ed class in grade 9 and was asked the question about victims of sexual abuse feeling pleasure. The commenter wrote that that is part of the struggle...that victims of this type of abuse are stimulated sexually sometimes and the feelings that that gives our bodies confuses us. In our minds and hearts we know it is all wrong...but we are human with bodies that are stimulated by certain forms of touch or movement, and this is sometimes pleasurable, even in the most abusive of situations. Knowing that this was an issue that victims face - even victims of rape, the commenter wrote - certainly gave me a new perspective. Its like hearing...you can't stop your ears from hearing. Yes, we might not concentrate on what we are hearing, or we may try to block the sound...but we can't switch off our ears. Feelings of sexual stimulation are similar...and very very confusing and disturbing to a victim of abuse.

Another group of comments talked about how we do not do enough as a community to make sure that men know how they are supposed to treat women, and their responsibilities. We often tell our daughters to dress modestly...but how many families actually make it a point to give their sons robust training on how they need to treat women? And, when it comes to Muslim women in particular...if we are indeed one ummah, one family (and any Muslim organization will use the words 'sister' and 'brother' abundantly), then men must realize that they have a responsibility to make sure harm does not come to women in their community. They need to be raised to think like that...to internalize it and believe it to be true. - that I, as a 'brother' in Islam, must make sure I do what I can to ensure the comfort, safety and protection of my 'sister' in Islam. Please do not get me wrong...women do not 'need' to be taken care of by men - Allah is the Best of Protectors - but we live in a social word and if men adopted that mentality, I think a lot more good would exist. Call me idealistic, but no one can inhibit me from hoping.

Reading all the comments really made me see better how the whole experience was truly a form of abuse. I realize that I was so young when it started, that my youth was robbed off of me, and that even if I appeared to be consenting, I was not. And, the fact that this continued to adulthood was also not my fault...it started when I was so so young that it grew part of me - I was conditioned - and I could see no way out. And indeed, I saw no way out till I left the country...till I gave my mind a chance to develop independent of him. Alhamdulillah.

While walking to the Karate club, I also said one more thing to myself. I said 'you are also a survivor of abuse'. I enjoyed my workout that evening. Just the other day...given all these realizations, I was overwhelmed with gratitude to God for all the blessings He has given to me. Doors are opening all around me, and I feel nour (light) in my life. God is the Greatest of Planners and the best of Providers. I feel I am being given so much Alhamdulillah...and I am filled with humility for I do not know how I am deserving of it all. I am utterly humbled...

When I think of him, I picture him in a small room, almost like a box, with an 'innocent' look on his face. I do not know why but he is wearing a baby blue t-shirt...his eyes droopy and maybe a bit glossy from tears. He is wondering what has happened. I truly am disgusted by that man. How dare his image of innocence fill that space in my mind. I just want him to leave it. I hate that image.

I told my cousin that I spoke to HEART, and she wanted to be directed to the article. I refused. (I love her to death, but perhaps I was feeling a bit sensitive that day. I told her that I think she knows all the details that are required, so she does not need to read the article, nor this blog. Perhaps it was the way I was asked...but I thought to myself, 'hey, I am not a story book'.) But, she said one more thing that has got me thinking a lot. My cousin wrote "Insha'allah one day when you are ready, you will speak to him and tell him exactly how you feel about what he has done...because he needs to know so that he can feel your struggle...if he can at all". I don't care to ever speak to him. And even more, I do not care to hear whatever excuses he may give. If he doesn't feel my struggle, especially now with how things are...how I have cut him out of my life...then he certainly has major issues.

But what do you think? Should me facing him about all this be something on my list of things to do?

shut down.

“You shut down all feeling because you are trying to avoid the pain. It helps you get through the immediate crisis and the trauma. But if they persist, if they go on for a long time, they become a problem and you don‟t feel much of anything. You numbed yourself from the pain, but you stunted your feelings, your warmth and your joy.”

Maria Yellow Horse Brave Heart

Raising Awareness

I recently spoke to HEART (Health Education, Advocacy, Research & Training for Women & Girls - http://www.heartwomenandgirls.org/)...an amazing grass-roots organization whose mission it is to empower women and girls in interfaith and community settings by building self-esteem and leadership through health and wellness.

I decided to contact HEART because they were the first organization that I had come across that emphasized, amongst other things, the importance of sexual education within Muslim communities. It was very difficult, but I ended up talking for almost two hours over the phone with the Co-Founder & Director of Programs. Butterflies were flying faster and faster in my tummy as the 'interview' day approached...and a few minutes before the call I prayed to God to make my speech eloquent so that the best message could be delivered.

Speaking was surprisingly natural - and every time I wanted to stop speaking, I would remember something else to say. You can read the first of a two-part article here - http://www.altmuslimah.com/a/b/gva/4206/, and the second part here - http://www.altmuslimah.com/a/b/gva/4209#disqus_thread.

I hope this is the first step to raising awareness of an issue that plagues our communities. Everything happens for a reason...the question is how can I be of benefit to society through this experience?

Poetic Reminiscing

Today I met a girl who is completing her final year of her PhD program in psychology. I asked her about 'a friend of mine' who experienced a long episode of sexual relations with a man 22 years her senior...something that began when she just became a teen. I asked her whether it is true that even if at first there are feelings of hate and anger toward the abuser, these emotions can turn into love and affection over time. 'Yes of course,' she said, 'it is a diagnosable syndrome'. Its a coping mechanism, and often seen in victims of abuse in war-torn areas...for example in cases where child soldiers begin to take on the opinions of their perpetrators, seeing them as victims...this is part of what eventually pushes the child soldiers to 'willfully' stand with them. Its what we do when we see no way out...when we have lost all hope.

I wrote this on September 22nd, 2007 - just a few weeks after I decided it was time for me to leave the country...to get away from the whole relationship:

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Purposeful Suffering

When I wake up
Immediate thoughts of you occupy my mind
I feel for the bangle we so carefully chose
And I think of the inscription that is now engraved in my heart
Your voice used to greet each new day with me
Now only memories of our past suffice
I am here
Living
Breathing
Even smiling
But in my heart I am lost
A sacrifice I call it
For God’s sake
But I often question this choice
The rationality behind the sorrow I feel
And the pain that I know you are living through
My outward is strong
A pillar
But the recitation of Quran
The stroke of a violin
The breeze of cold air on my face
These evoke images of you as I go through my day
Anyone who looks into my eyes knows I am not there
Alive but dead
My heart with you
And if I’m dead then you’ve already reached the eternal dwelling
My sadness is more your suffering
Be okay and perhaps I will be better
And know that when I go to sleep
I carefully put on your shirt
I know its not you
But it makes me feel closer
Safe
========================

A few weeks later I wrote 'Suboptimal'. He wanted to continue our relationship, even if it had to be long distance. I wrote this on October 11th, 2007, when I still was strong.

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Suboptimal

Love is something to look forward to
Something that brings joy to your life
Exactly what we once shared
But these last few weeks
This love has been but pain
My heart has become heavy
My face has aged
And my eyes are hollow
I look dead when I laugh
I no longer have an appetite
Any happiness is followed with guilt.
This is my personal suffering.
I don’t need anyone’s sympathy
But this love has now twisted
It’s not something I long for
It’s something I dread
I feel trapped by what I want to do
And what for emotion’s sake
I am being asked to do
It’s pointless
It’s too late
We will never have what we shared
Miles apart
Blocked by our consequence
We will not be able to reconcile
Reality stares at me in the face whenever you speak to me
Satisfaction without movement is no longer an option
For now let us move on with our lives
Let me find suboptimal love that will at least be accepted by others
Suboptimal love that will at least let me have the kids I long for
It’s not my fault you are apart at home
It’s not my fault you have no way to release
At least you have someone who is there with you
I still need to find my suboptimal.
========================

After this, the relationship did continue long-distance for about 6 months or so. I am not sure how long. I have forgotten.

Small accomplishments, not so small

I’m sitting with my back straight – straighter than I can remember it has been for a while. I just came from watching the King’s Speech. In the movie, King George the Sixth is being helped with his speech impediment. He stammers, and has been doing so since he was five or six. The movie is about him overcoming that with the help of someone who ends up taking on the role of a psychologist…but a friend at the core.

The last scene is of the first wartime speech being made by the King…and it was perfect. The actor did an amazing job. But I realized something as I watched him struggle as he made it happen…I realized that something that might look as ‘simple’ as giving a speech…(which by the way he gave not in front of an audience but in front of a microphone as it was being broad-casted on radio)…is not a small accomplishment for him. Some people might find it mundane to speak…but this movie helped me see that what some of us may take for granted is not necessarily the reality for others. It’s relative…accomplishments are relative. No one should compare…because you can’t compare.

Today I sit with my back straight because I accomplished something. I went to the movies alone.

I imagine that someone reading this might be frowning now, or a subtle smile perhaps…perhaps one eyebrow raised as if confused.

I have lived ‘alone’ since I moved for undergrad. 4 years I was in the dorms, and during my Masters too I lived in an apartment on my own…but, he was always a part of my life…age 13-23…I always get my time-lines mixed up…I can’t image it was 10 years…but I know we were ‘together’ throughout high school, throughout undergrad, and throughout my Masters, after which I moved abroad for a bit (which is when it ended).

Regardless…I suppose someone who doesn’t know this story might praise me for my ability to have been on my own for so long…or surprised and asking whether or not I miss my family when I am away. But you see…while we were together, I was never ever alone.

When I moved off to university, we were about an hour drive away from each other, but he would visit during the week sometimes, and almost every weekend I would take the bus down and we would be together. I was so busy on weekdays - I did nothing other than school work and attend whatever meetings I had to for the student groups I was part of. My leisure was spent with him…movies, going out, eating out…yes I’d do a bit of that with my girlfriends during the week…but, I never left campus. It was extremely rare to venture out into the city with my friends. I think I did it once in 4 years.

I grew very used to having someone so close to me. A friend recently asked me what animal I would be if I was asked to describe myself as one, and I said a spider…because I’m clingy. And I know why. I was just trained to be like that..I grew to being comfortable only when I have someone I am close with by my side. Our phone bills would go into the hundreds…when we were not together, he would know exactly where I was each minute. Literally..’I left class’, ‘I’m eating’, ‘I’m attending a meeting’, ‘I’m with my friends’...’I’m going to bed’. Everything.

When I moved countries, I was so blessed with a friend whom everyone knew we shared the same ‘web’…we were communicating and together constantly…and in so many ways I needed that to transition from him being the center of my life. Her friends became mine, we moved back here to attend more school…and now even her family is mine.

I messaged her today about the movie and she couldn’t come because she was busy. But I knew today was going to be different anyways when I woke up – and I knew I would go to the movies...and that I would be going alone. It was time. And I did.

It might sound simple to some of you who are reading this. Or, perhaps a bit odd. Here is someone who has lived away from family for so long…and still does..and someone who has traveled around and ‘been places’…but you know, despite all of that, I always had someone I cared for right with me. After him, it was this friend of mine. And, even though she is part of my life, I am finally learning how to do things on my own. I have never ever imagined that I would ever feel so proud of myself for going to the movies.

So why am I sitting with my back straight? Well, it’s because I’m slowly learning that I can do normal things without having to have someone stuck to me. For so long it was as if I was trained to always need someone by my side or in contact with me every single moment. But I'm internalizing that I am capable of handling things on my own. I am capable of doing things on my own if I want to even if others may not be able to. I do not need to rely on others all the time. I can make my own decisions. I can do it. And I’m not talking about do it in terms of being successful at school or what not…I’m talking about anything… I can even have fun on my own. I can go to the movies on my own.

I must add that as I left the house I couldn’t believe I was going to be doing this solo. I could have just grabbed my purse but I felt very empty as I walked towards the door...and a bit nervous. It’s as if I was buried under sand and I was coming out for the first time. I grabbed my school bag instead…laptop, journal, a couple of books…knew I wouldn’t need any of that. But still. I just felt I wanted some company.

Regardless. A small accomplishment to someone else…but to me…a huge step Alhamdulillah. Sort of reminds me of the first step on the moon :)

I think I have learned a big lesson today. Humans cannot be compared. What is big for me, may be trivial for you, and vice versa. Don’t you agree?

him

u know, he is married.
to my mother's sister.
u know his daughter...she's my age.

Mug.

I am currently having a relapse. I haven’t written in you in so long. I’ve been fine…better than fine…very good actually. This winter break has been life changing. I spoke to a cousin of mine about this whole experience. She knows who I am talking about too. She made me realize that he is a master manipulator. She made me realize more than ever how I was lured in and it wasn’t my fault. I spoke to my mom too. I told her how I have a short-fuse with her when she tries to control me now, yet she didn’t control me when I was so young. I told her things were wrong and that she should have noticed. She didn’t ask questions, but I think she knows that what I am talking about is too serious to ask for more detail. But she said I was right. It was as if my heart was finally penetrated and I have allowed the love my mom has for me to seep in. Our relationship is improving since. By the grace of God.
But right now. I don’t know if it has to do with the work that I am doing and how its been dragging, or because I’m just having a bad moment. But right now. I just want to walk into my kitchen. Take the mug that he gave me in my first year of undergrad that I have been using for the past 8 years..and break it. Tomorrow I will. I need to. It says on it that our bonds are everlasting, and that he has so much love for me. Today as I drank my tea I read the words for the first time in so long…when u use something so often you forget what things say or who they are from or what they symbolize. I was so disgusted that I had to stop myself from reading those words. I secretly wished I could drop the mug and break it right there. In fact, he has given me a lot of jewelry…I have been secretly wishing that I lose one ring right after the next and just have him leave me.
So many things that I have are from him. We were ‘together’ for so long. My gym bag, socks, shirts, shoes….he has sat on the couches in my living room since they have moved with me from place to place. He has drank water from the glasses I use and ate from the plates in my cupboard. He has sat at the dining table. Everywhere. I have a look of disgust at the screen.
I am okay – I promise. I don’t know why I feel this way all of a sudden. I was thinking about how much progress I’ve made. Forgive me. I hope my next post will be more positive. I need a new mug. I no longer wear his rings. I want to sell them. That money must be donated.