A Series of Unfortunate Relationships: The College One Part 1

 

After the fiasco of my last relationship, I did not want to fall in love again because I was terrified of the consequences of that attraction. It did not serve me well on either front as it angered my parents and even I was not happy being entrapped again. I decided I would focus on myself and see where life whisked me away. There were so many things I wanted to accomplish anyway, and I had made a mess of things where my education was concerned. My grades had fallen drastically and I had not told anyone about that, least of all my parents. They would reprimand me and lament about wasted money and time and that I deserved the punishments I had received so far. My situation would probably worsen anyway because there would be no solutions provided just glares and reminders of the mistakes that led me to my current state. All I could do was figure it out on my own and talk it out with my close friends. 

    My friends could only help me so much as they were figuring out their own lives and trying to pry themselves out of their own cages. My two closest friends at the time were also Pakistani so we were all in the process of escaping the unrealistic ideals we were chained to. The strange thing about my parents was that they would not call and hound me while I was out unlike my friend's parents who would check up on them at least once per hour if not more and none of us were given a proper curfew. Our curfew was that we needed to be home once our college classes ended unless there was something important going on. So naturally, we resorted to skipping classes in order to have some free time to explore and enjoy ourselves which led to not focusing and doing well in our studies. We would use the time to escape from our confused lives and find some semblance of normalcy. Those became some of my fondest memories, the ones where we would skip class and go for long drives in any random direction. I memorized the road maps of my region just by getting lost in them and heading to different areas where we would stop and have dinner before heading home. This was stressful in its own way because my friends would be receiving constant calls from their parents who would ask them where they were and I knew my own parents would be suspicious as well and interrogate me once I arrived. I am sure they knew what we were doing and tried to scare us out of phase but it didn't really help their cause. If anything, we all rebelled more because we desperately wanted to be treated like adults and allowed to just simply live. We weren't out there committing crimes against humanity we just wanted to enjoy company with our friends. 

The Yin and Yang of Laziness and Productivity

 

I always wonder when this feeling of inferiority will drift away from my thoughts. Will there ever come a time when I think that I did great with what I had, and accomplished much even though the path was often shaky? I feel as if I am stuck in a limbo from which I can neither pull forward nor slip back and change my course. Dark thoughts swirl through my mind echoing my failure back at me so that I cannot end my day without reliving all the past experiences that have led me wrong. Funny though, because overall I am perfectly content. It makes me wonder if I am perceiving things as they are not and have decided to live in an ignorant state of mind until my head hits the pillow at night. Just as darkness consumes my surroundings, the ringing in my ears grows louder, persistent, and then the images begin to stir thoughts dragging me into an anxiety-induced haze. It always feels as if I am waiting an eternity for decisions to be made about an aspect of my life and currently it is no different. I have begun to abhor the application processes of these large institutions that require waiting endlessly on bated breath. 

    This carousel of uninhibited thoughts serves no purpose in my life because my hands are tied at the moment. I try to search for different avenues and revise my eternal list of plan B's which will take me into depths of mediocrity that I cannot sustain in the long term but nevertheless, I am forced to consider in case my future does not pan out as I hoped. The gray tones of the world overwhelm me as I beg to see in black and white. The duality of decisions would let me know when to give up hope so that I can stop dreaming instead of being lured into a confusion of gray, a realm in which maybe's and what if's flourished like a bee colony surrounded by wildflowers. The people around me observe the results of my futile attempts and choose to weigh my worth by quantities that can be measured in some numerical form and agonize over the dwindling numbers that statistically and alarmingly reduce in value as the years change. Apparently, age can only be valued and respected if there is some mark left on earth to show for it or shiny baubles kept stored away that can be accounted for and represent the riches acquired through sweat and hard work. Another value of mine lies within the passage of my genes to further the generations of my lineage and increase the population on this planet because what is the point of being a woman otherwise if not to undergo and live through the agony of pushing out children that I must raise into humans. Not that I know how many are actually enough because if I have too little or too many then that is also my own fault because I did not think my life through. I will forget who said what because eventually I will be fooled into believing those are my own thoughts seeping through the confusion.

The Art of Enjoying Solitude

 

There is something enticing about being in my own company, or perhaps with a silent four-legged partner, walking down a dirt path. I can hear and feel the crunch of the gravel beneath my shoes, the wind whispering through the trees, and the sun peeking out from behind the leaves. At that moment, the rest of the world washes away while I contemplate and organize the thoughts busy in my mind or wash them away with the music from my earbuds. The moment is mine entirely and nothing else matters. I ponder over the complexities of existence dipping my metaphorical toes into existential ideas while attempting to hold on to the literality of life. Or maybe, I am sitting bundled up in my blanket cocoon with a book in my lap immersed in a world so fascinatingly different from mine filled with characters who are now a part of my being as I savor each page that my eyes scan. As I put my book away, both mourning and rejoicing in the ending of another world, I bask in the soothing quiet, and cozy surroundings. These moments are special and integral to my well-being.

    Even when my family of four lived in a tiny two-bedroom apartment, I would search for my pockets of escape so that I had my alone time during which I could escape into my through a novel or my own imagination. My mind would be free to unravel its thoughts and ideas to entropic proportions to the point where it almost mimicked an out-of-body experience. My favorite space was the top bunk bed in the bedroom I shared with my sister. 

Rejected... Reasons Men and Their Mothers Turned Me Down for Marriage

 

As I sit here in my bedroom pondering the inexplicable intricacies of life and being human, my mind took a turn towards the complex topic of marriage and relationships. Perhaps watching Bridgerton also brought up memories of reaching the marriageable age in society and how that went for me. Being a Pakistani woman, my mind naturally raced down memory road and decided to focus on how I achieved rejections in my life amidst dressing up in colorful clothes and looking presentable to the aunties always watching me. The fact that I can sit here and laugh about the absurdities of my culture and chuckle over what these people conveyed to me at that time is an accomplishment in itself. I have decided that others should be just as entertained as I am on the various reasons for rejections and also consider the underlying seriousness of it all. Though this seems funny to me now, experiencing their brandished verbal weapons at that time was significantly jarring and resulted in the upheaval of my life. 

Ushering in 2021

 

We have ushered in a new year, 2021, and my thoughts are all over the place. Instead of making New Year's resolutions, I wanted to withdraw and not think about anything. In moments such as this, I tend to forget what and why I am doing certain things. For example, I have felt less and less enthused about keeping up with my blog. I started off strong, but then I felt my motivation wither away as doubt crept in. I became focused on whether anybody cares to read my words and if they really matter. When I type, I don't remember what I wish to say as if my words are like a dream slipping through the cracks of my brain as I try harder to conjure them up. But then I remember that I am doing this for myself just as much as I am doing this for others. Sure, I want my posts to be relatable to you and perhaps I will find a few like-minded individuals over time, but this is also a form of therapy purely for myself. 

    The funny part is that I am in a much more stable place now than I was a few years ago and my brain is content in keeping the harsh blips in my life distant buried memories. I should have started this when I was living through my nightmares to help myself cope, but it always worried me they would find it and this kept me away from displaying my agony to strangers. But it makes me happy knowing that there are those out there who are able to voice their concerns and pain because I know how challenging and difficult that can be. I have decided I will continue with my journey and my thoughts even if this becomes just a memoir for me because I can take a look back and watch my journey and thoughts unfold. This is also the reason I used to enjoy writing in journals but I never continued long enough to observe my own progression because my journal would be discovered or I would be paranoid that someone will read it. 

Missed Connections

 

Did you ever meet someone during your childhood and realized you and this person have an amazing connection that if allowed to flourish, would result in a beautiful strong friendship? I most definitely did. Looking at kids now, I wish I had a phone number I could have given these girls as they affected my life for a short period but their memory is still fresh in my mind. I wonder what they are doing and where they are now. Most of all I wish they are happy and thriving in this crazy world. 

    One of the girls I met in elementary school and we became friends in grade three. By the time I reached grade five, we were really close friends who would enjoy sitting and chatting by the sandbox and talking about everything and anything. My relationship with her was different than the dynamic with my other childhood friends and I felt as if I could pour my heart out to her and she would not use this against me. She made me feel safe in a world where I was unsure of who I could trust. I had such vivid memories of my mother picking me up during lunchtime once a week to take me for my weekly seasonal allergy injections. These were bittersweet days for me because I hate being poked but I looked forward to the Burger King meal I would get for lunch. Once I returned to school, I would run towards the sandbox and find my friend waiting for me there. I would sit there talking to her while mindlessly grabbing on to the warm dirt and squishing it between my fingers. I watched as it oozed out from the gaps between the fingers. There was something so soothing about the grainy feel running across my hands. I would continue to rake the earth until I reached the cooler, damp earth a few inches down. The cool earth soothed my fingers so I would clasp it tightly in my hand and squeeze it so it would burst out from between my fingers. 

Surviving a Pandemic

 

    After an utterly exhausting week that left my cortisol levels reaching new peaks in this interview season there was a long and hard crash. I felt exhausted and almost as if I would blackout from the sleepiness and nothingness filling my brain with black. So I let my body steer me in the direction it needed to go and succumbed to the fatigue. I slept for half a day and all night. But now, I am ready to take on what comes next. If I forced my body to continue in the condition it was, I would have crashed or remained in a state of perpetual exhaustion which would draw out my agony for a longer period of time and reduce my efficiency and motivation, anyway. I decided to take a break from everything to enable myself the chance to get back up on my feet and feel some semblance of rejuvenation or peace of mind. Alas, I feel that I will be unable to feel at peace until I hear some more news of any kind. But what can I say, I am going to accept that this is my life for now. During this time I pondered and mused over what I could possibly share with my readers in the midst of my mental crises. There is so much to say and so many more stories to tell but I want to wait it out a bit. Talking about the difficult periods in my life while undergoing a mental breakdown is probably not the healthiest of ways to cope at this time. So I started musing what could be motivating and inspiring to me in a time like this. Perhaps I need to branch out a little bit more in my desire to talk about everything. So much to think about indeed but let's start with a story from today.

Closed Doors and Open Hearts

 

This month I feel anxious and the sense of gloom and defeat washes over my senses as I gaze out into the gloomy, rainy weather outside my window. I am warm in my blanket cocoon, but my heart races, and I feel the cool clamminess of my feet as they touch each other under the blanket. My body is in fight-or-flight mode despite no sense of current impending doom. Yet it is all around me, washing over me. This residency interview season, already delayed due to the pandemic wreaking havoc over the globe, changed the rules of the game in ways that were both good and bad. My interviews this season will be virtual, good, and bad. The trickle of rejections weighing out the interview invitations seems to be crawling at a snail's pace, bad. I don't know what to do with my time and I hate not knowing. The wait until March will be filled with sleepless nights going over the mistakes I made during my Zoom interviews. There is no escape for my mind because the world needed to shut down for a while and slow its pace so that it could recover and breathe. But my breathing rapidly progresses and I pace across the room until I decide it is too cold to walk around without my blanket shroud. 

    My mind cannot stop reminding me of my mistakes during my recent interview. Why did I not mention my strengths more often? I wondered if the program director thought my excitement and pleading eyes bordered on desperation. I sigh as I continue to stare out into a grey world cut starkly with the green of the cedars and pines lining the front yard. The stoic serene quality of their straight trunks extending to the sky normally brings a sense of calm over me but today they loom over me with foreboding, blocking me from the outside world. The slow pattering of the rain hypnotizes me and I dissociate into a different realm of everything and nothing. I am transported to my past achievements and failures, failures mostly. I don't know what I would do if this doesn't work out. What if I cannot continue working on becoming a physician, what will I do with my life? Nobody would be surprised if I didn't make it, everyone already doubts I will match anywhere. My own faith in myself wavers and oscillates over the day, week, and possibly month. 

Self Respect and Battling "Log Kya Kahenge" (What will people say)

 

Sometimes, it is important to take things a little too seriously when navigating the quirks of life and  when the people around us are always reminding us that this life is no joke. Focus now, work now, marry now, the list is endless. Some of us are unable to enjoy the small moments in life because of the bigger problems we may face on a daily basis. We all have our whims and desires that are an offshoot of the personalities we desperately attempt to nurture in order to show and become who we are. Nevertheless, our culture and religion play a huge role in molding us and can define our tastes, subconsciously sometimes. From an early age, we begin to gauge our worth by what others think of us and behave according to what will make those around us happy. There are many people we encounter who influence us in our lives, directly or indirectly. They will have an impact on our decisions and the way we handle ourselves in situations in a subtle manner that builds over time. 

    Our parents are our nurtures and caretakers from the moment we enter this world until they take their final breaths. We look up to them for everything and imitate their behaviours so that we can become functioning members of society and learn how to interact with others around us. They teach us what is good and bad according to their beliefs and experiences. They become our first point of reference when we make decisions and lay our own foundations. Their influence on our actions and desires is inevitable and built into our system whether we like it or not. They hold the very fabric of our being in their hands and they have the power to shape us to their desires and wishes to a significant degree. Sometimes, their insecurities and worries become our own burdens because we watch them fighting their demons and internalize them so we begin fighting them too. Everything depends on our relationship with them. In my personal experience, our mothers can become entrapped in a cycle they have been a part of since their own childhoods. Submission holds more value in our society than outspoken and bolder behaviour. It still is a man's world in their eyes and the easiest way to survive and navigate it is by causing as little trouble as possible by diminishing our existence around the male figures. Although this is widely changing, there is a lot of pushback from women who are the mother's of sons. They want their sons to continue to enjoy the luxury of their privilege even though they know how painful it is to be the unwelcomed member of a family. This discord continues to breed the unhealthy lifestyle and integrate it in the next generation which grow up observing the toxic dynamics found within their homes. 

Mistakes

My life a mess of endless mistakes
Yet every step proves to be
The mistook adventure
Of the perilous side of me
Unforgivable,
Is the design to
Which a human fate
At times, must resign to
Unforgivable,
Is the world to
One who behind falls
Untouchable and diminished
Where only solitude calls
Take me where I
Must go for I
Know no more where I
My face can show

Photo by Jamie Street on Unsplash

Handling the Unexpected

 

The year 2020 really took us all for a roller coaster ride. Any plans I may have had this year washed away with the tide of pandemic frenzy. My anxiety rose steadily as the year went on because of isolation, uncertainty, and mental exhaustion. I made so many plans for the beginning of a new decade. My to-do list filled with goals I wanted to achieve and places I would visit. My life never followed the timeline or sequence of events I planned for it. Something would always take me by surprise when I set my mind to a certain task. I used to look at my peers and friends and wonder how they could easily follow their wishes and whims when mine enjoyed taking me down complex winding paths on which I never know where I will end up. 

    In situations like this, the best approach is to learn how to handle changes because the destination might be better than what you intended for yourself. My life is an example of how to navigate situations when luck is not on your side. Nevertheless, I would change nothing if I knew it would lead me to where I am today. If you asked me during high school where I wanted to end up, I would have excitedly told you I wanted to graduate as a doctor by the age of twenty-five and marry by twenty-seven with kids at thirty. Knowing what kind of headspace I was in during my early twenties, pursuing such an intensive degree would have been very difficult for me even if I got in then. I failed one year of my courses in undergrad because of the stress I was facing at that time. If I failed out medical school because of my problems, I could never forgive myself for not giving myself the time to heal. What I didn't realize at that time was I needed that time to relearn how to focus and put myself first. I did not anticipate any of the delays, even though some of them were consequences of my own actions. 

The First One Part 3

 

**Before I begin, I want to display a warning that I will discuss suicide in this post.**

We talked in secret for three months before we had our first fight. I cannot even remember what the fight was about, but I know I felt very disrespected and I told him I don't think I could be with him if he was going to treat me this way. This is the first time I swore at someone and he replied back in the same manner. I felt he was not giving me enough time or cared enough about me as a person. It was as if he just decided one day that he wanted to give me a try and see how things went. Apparently, he had overheard my grandfather speaking to his father mentioning my name and saying it would make him so happy if our two families joined through the union of marriage with one of his favourite granddaughters. I felt as if he remembered that when he saw me and thought "eh... that'll do" and decided to start speaking to me. It only took us three months to realize we were very different. 

    Despite the warning deep pit in my stomach, I messaged him after not speaking to him for three months. I missed my friend. He replied back as if nothing ever happened and picked up from before the fight. I didn't see anything wrong with this although I should have been warier. How could he just forget about the pain he had caused me and keep moving through with our relationship not having apologized even once. I was the one who desperately wanted to keep him around. Eventually, we fell apart again after another fight and I decided we are unable to make this work and I felt as if I lost a part of me when I said goodbye to him at that time. I was devastated and confused. I did not know how to handle this emotional fury, and the feeling of loss welled up inside me. A short while after this, my parents introduced me to another marriage proposal that occupied my life for two years and ended in disaster when this guy sabotaged my life by interfering and messaging my ex-fiance and spilling the details of my past to strangers he did not know. My world crumbled around me and I was furious, embarrassed, and anxious. The wrath of my family weighed down on me. I messaged him angrily trying to portray my anger in words that would not come out coherently. I told him I would never forgive him. 

Innocence and Cheerful Ignorance

 

When growing up, I viewed the world through such innocent and ignorant eyes. I was unaware of the immensity of skeletons I was constantly surrounded by and the struggles my parents and other adults around me faced. The world seemed bright and promising despite all the setbacks my parents were shrouded in. Looking back, I did not always realize I grew up in a poor home with struggling parents. I was unaware that my parents were barely making ends meet throwing newspapers, studying, and working other odd jobs they could find. I did not demand much and maybe it was easier where I lived because a lot of the people around me were new immigrant families. We lived in co-op housing for eight years until my father received his first job as a veterinarian after passing his licensing exams. 

    Despite all this, I felt I had it all. I didn't care about clothes, fashion, designer brands. I did pine over the new toys coming out that my parents couldn't always afford like the Tamagotchi or the massive dollhouses at Toys-R-Us but they tried their best to give us not only what we needed but wanted as well. The small space we were confined in did not bother me, it was as much space as I needed. It never occurred to me that we were living in cramped conditions or that we should have more than this. Every year, I would receive a new Barbie for my birthday and other random accessories to adorn her with. My father was always looking for the next magic box that would give us unlimited channels for a cheap price, so we watched a lot of movies and shows at home even if we couldn't afford to go to the movie theaters.

Education, Careers and the Journey of Life

 

 A girl I knew once was a straight-A student with so much potential for her future. She was doing so amazingly well in high school, especially excellent in math, that I was in awe of her. Where I could barely concentrate on reading my textbook, she would burn through her work with a steady focus and drive. Once she set her mind to something, nothing could stand in the way of her accomplishing her task. She decided she wanted to become an engineer during her IB class years and set her mind to it. In grade twelve, she excitedly told her parents she wanted to attend a prestigious university known for their engineering program. Her father waved her off saying "engineering is a boy's job, pick something else, I don't want my daughter butting heads in a male-dominated career." His decision was final and her world shattered. She was lost. She did not know where to go from there since she was so sure of her purpose and understood where her talents lay. Her parents did not want her to go outside the city for university, so she dismissed her dreams and joined a college near her home. She flitted from one subject to another, distracted by everything around her, slowly losing her confidence, her drive, and her passion. She began focusing her energy on finding something that would make her happy. But there was nothing around her that sparked joy in her heart. Even studying advanced mathematics and calculus became a challenge for her because she knew spending so much effort in learning this subject will not lead her anywhere anymore. Slowly, depression began clouding her journey and she began giving up. The indecision and exhaustion of living a life that was not truly hers broke her down. Fate brought her another chance to delve into a career that she enjoyed, but it was also short-lived because she became pregnant. Once again, she left her interests behind so she could focus on her child and she became an amazing mother but this was not the life she picked for herself. No matter how well she did with what she had, I could not convince her that it was enough. For her, nothing was enough and she continued to feel empty. She began to believe she was never good enough at whatever she did. That beautiful, confident girl became a shell of her previous self as her life became a self-fulfilling prophecy for her of failed attempts at getting back on her feet with all the responsibilities she continued to bear. But I still consider her so strong because she continued to fight despite it all. She stood by her sister's side when she picked a challenging, male-dominated field to study in and make a career from. She fought with her father for his support, and she won that battle. This woman became my greatest supporter and strength during my challenging years when my own mind faltered with all the pushback I would receive in pursuing medicine.

The First One Part 2

 

After that initial exciting encounter in Pakistan, I flew back home with my heart all aflutter with this new connection I had made. My mind became focused on just him. I couldn't concentrate on my schoolwork or anything else. I began shirking my duties and finding ways to sneak and use the computer at night or very early in the morning because of the time difference. I would be waiting impatiently on MSN Messenger for him to sign in and that we could spend the next few hours talking about anything and everything. I didn't even realize how weird our conversation was back then. I accepted it all without any hesitation when I should have taken the time out to notice the red flags from right in the beginning. 

    Before we started a romantic and exclusive relationship, we became really close friends. In fact, he became my best friend. I only had one other close friend at the time and I would meet her a few times in the year since she went to a different school and lived in a different city. I did not have anyone around who I could confide everything to. Even my other friend, we didn't talk often enough at that stage for me to feel like she was someone I could run to when I was down. There were many things going on within me at that time. My parents were working and unavailable. My mother worked night shifts as a nurse and needed to take care of my youngest sister at the time who was a baby. She was barely sleeping two or three hours during the day so she was eternally exhausted and frustrated. My father didn't make life any easier and he was working during the day. They were having marital problems while trying to raise four children. There was no time for me there. When this boy entered my life, he gave me his full attention and let me share all my woes without complaining. I was so happy and grateful to have someone like that in my life. We shared similar tastes in music and movies and loved to talk about life in general. He appeared as someone very mature for his age in my mind and I looked up to him. I was content with having him just as a friend even because I wanted nothing to ruin the special bond we had built. I needed him in my life with all the teenage angst built up inside me. He had many opinions and a lot to say as well. He was also having his own difficulties in life because he was unsure about his future, where he wanted to go, and what he wanted to do. I would listen to his worries and talk it out with him so that he felt better. In those moments it was as if we had unlimited time to figure things out, and yet we were both so stressed about the future. 

Loneliness

Being alone is both a freeing and slightly terrifying concept. It really depends on an individual's comfort and acceptance of what they are able to do in that situation and their experiences. It can put someone in crippling anxiety or provide a sense of peace and freedom. The only difference between one way or the other is the individual's coping mechanisms. Nevertheless, we are social creatures and at some point in our lives; we do want someone who we can share our experiences with, dote on, be friends with, and feel loved with. Sometimes we may even define our worthiness with who we keep around and how they treat us. This is a very complex behaviour and one with so many factors. 

    Culture can really impact the way we perceive living or being alone. For example, in my culture and even religion, there is a huge emphasis on being married, bearing kids, and having a family. Culturally, in Pakistani and Indian culture, extended families are preferred. This can significantly limit alone time, privacy, and independence. We eat together, relax together, and spend the majority of our time in the company of others in some form or other. Even at work, we are usually surrounded by coworkers. During my childhood, we were a family of four living in a small two-bedroom apartment. There was no escape from my parents who can choose to barge into the bedroom I shared with my sister at any given moment. I found time to be alone when they were at work and I would babysit my sister and brother. You may think living in such a way most would crave their alone time. Yes, this can motivate those living in such conditions to enjoy their alone time but usually, it is for small periods of time. A lot of my friends who have grown in such environments do enjoy their alone time but cannot imagine living on a day to day basis all by themselves even in adulthood. This is true no matter what the situation at home is like and how constricted they may be there. When given the option, they would choose to stay with others over being completely alone. Even when they moved out, there would be constant calls home to the parents because they believe they don't know how to survive without consistent advice from their parents even though they could manage just fine without it. We become conditioned to wanting an elder at home who will continue to guide us in our lives. 

The First One Part 1

When I was fourteen, my mother, my siblings, and I flew to Pakistan to visit family and friends. On the flight there my mother turned towards me with a stern look on her face and said, "we will be visiting a family friend's home and they have a boy who is nothing but trouble so stay away from him okay?" 

    Confused and slightly uncomfortable, I nodded my head while thinking in my head that I had no intention to fall in love right now especially with a boy living in Pakistan. Little did I know these words would haunt me for the rest of my life. We visited my family friends in Lahore and when I saw this particular boy, my heart stopped. His aloof, distant personality drew my imagination and heartbeat into a frenzy I never experienced before in my life. I was shaken to my core and in trouble. I observed him moving around the house and talking to others while I sat stoically in an armchair with my mother and aunts. I wanted to walk over and introduce myself, and I was worried he will notice me blatantly staring at him. I decided I was going to behave as if he did not exist. This was torture for me of course, since I did not want to miss a second of him. Even when he walked by my chair, the air moving around him sent electric currents down my arms from the close proximity. I wished for time to stop right then and there so I could catch my breath and savour this moment just a little while longer. Even though I was ignoring him all evening, I was upset that he did not notice me at all. I became annoyed even though I was doing the exact same thing. My mother's warning dissolved so quickly in my head as if her words were never spoken. 

Friendships

 

I am blessed with a few really beautiful and strong friendships over the years. One I have known since I was three years old and some others are newer, but just as precious. But navigating the world of friends can be difficult and testing at times. 

I made my first couple of friends at the age of three or four within the building we first moved into after arriving in Canada. We fought and we played together for several years up until the age of ten. Being in a trio could be a little challenging though because one person ends up taking a side in the fight and it would switch over time creating little rifts. As I mentioned in some previous posts, our parents pitted us against each other competitively from a very early age. This probably did not help the situation either. Our trio broke around grade six when my cousins came in the picture. One of the cousins became closer friends with my one member of the trio and started an all-out war against me. They united and decided it was time for mutiny and disbanding. From this point, we drifted apart, and I moved to a different city. Until the initiation of Facebook, I could not reconnect with any of my friends who weren't in my city. The other third of the trio and I remain close friends to this day. 

The First Proposal

 

I received my first proposal when I was fifteen years old and did not know who I was or where I wanted to go in life. It was the time I should have spent focusing on what I needed to do to achieve my career goals and dreams, but somehow that fell on the back-burner for a while. My mother walked into my room one evening after a lengthy phone conversation to talk to me. She did not know that I was eavesdropping during her phone call and knew what she came to talk to me about. I was not ready for this conversation. I am too young; I thought. There is no way she would spring this on me before I even graduated from high school. But here she was, standing in my doorway with a slightly sheepish smile on her face, knowing she was throwing me into deep waters with the first sentence she uttered. 

    "There's a marriage proposal for you," she said, grinning. "They want to see a photo of you so we will take one this coming Eid," she mentioned hurriedly. 

    "What do you think?" she asked, slightly concerned with the look of panic on my face. 

    I laughed nervously because I do not know how to handle serious situations without bursting in laughter sometimes. She knew I did not want this, so why ask me about it, I thought. It is not fair to put me on the spot like this, as I have no clue if considering this would be a good idea. I shrugged my shoulders at her, feeling embarrassed and awkward having this conversation with her. I know nothing about these people, who they are, where do they live, and most importantly, why are they interested in me. 

    "At least talk to the guy and see how you feel," murmured my mother before she walked out of the room.

Chrysallis

 

I hate thinking about my flaws or exposing myself and announcing my vulnerability. But here I am creating a space where I discuss those topics in great detail. I hesitate because I am still terrified that someone will recognize me and find out who I am if I reveal too much. However, if I don't show you who I truly am, how can I ensure you this is a safe space for you as well. So with small steps, I continue. I don't have many readers anyway, so it feels like I am writing in a journal that only I will ever read. But that is okay too. Interestingly, I have been more committed to this page I have created than any diary I have ever owned. In some ways, I am still hiding it from the world out of fear of rejection and pain. Although, this time, the worldwide web is hiding it for me amongst the sea of thought and the spoken and written word available. I am not even sure if people enjoy the simple act of reading anymore amidst the sensory involvement now available in the form of video and audio. This is but a simple text.

    I sit here and think about what I offer and it isn't much since I am no expert. Even the fact that I am not a resident doctor inadvertently holds me back from discussing medical subjects with you because the voice in my head reminds me I am not there yet. I am not where I need to be so I should not talk about it. But life doesn't work that way. If I keep waiting for the right moment in time, it will never come because there is no true perfection in this life. At this moment, there are many things I "should" be doing and achieving, such as having a career and producing children. I am doing neither because I am stuck between two countries and distanced from my husband. Not to mention the fact that I have fertility issues that I am trying to deal with at the same time. Sure, there are steps I can take to accomplish my career goals, but I cannot bring myself to.