Scars never go away

Sometimes the pains people give us keep us wounded forever. The wound dries up but scars remain. Everytime you look at your scar in the mirror it affects you. It makes you feel regret, proud, you feel brave and the grief. But scars God gave you as a reminder.

When I look at my scars I cry every single time. And every single time I have to force myself to be positive. Allah gave me those scars for a reason. Time heals the wound but there is a reason that scar remains. For me to thank Allah that I survived. They remind me that as much as it hurt deep I survived it. That how much did I learn from the pain? What wisdom have I learnt? And they remind me not to hurt others the same way. My pain returns as a superficial pain because I see the scar. The scar is the mark of something special that I have endured. And it will hurt me as long as I am alive. And every time I will remind myself that I have seen the worse and still made it. Walking or crippling but I did. And gratitude is never enough. The scars make me thank my Allah more. Because of the things I have learnt and where I stand now are because of the betrayal and abandonment from the person I had once loved the most in this world. Allahumdulillah for the loss because it is my gain.

“The real man smiles in trouble, gathers strength from distress, and grows brave by reflection” – Thomas Paine 


Our family.

 Life is so busy. Especially for a full time single parent. Because you have to deal with an ex too. Sigh.

I am blessed to have my parents. As adults even though we make our own decisions we still need our parents. Every family has its own dynamics. But none the less it is a blessing. When I return home from all day’s of work, all I do is as soon as I enter the home is ask my mother what’s for dinner. Nothing fancy she says. But that is enough. I am a mother but I need my mother. And sometimes I need her as if I am still her school going kid. I fight and argue with her. But she is still my comfort zone. My sister even though married living miles away is my life’s secret diary. The only mortal who has seen and heard the darkest secrets of my life. She is the one who has caught me crying in a dark room and has comforted me without any words, but just a hug. She is my bff. My father is a comfort to me in his own way. The way he pampers my son and loves him, he has filled the void of my son’s own father. My cousins, my uncle and my aunt their presence and their support is what keeps me going every day. When I speak to relatives from back home, their words of love and reassurance feels amazing.

Belonging from a sub Asian continent, where usually parents worry about their daughter if she is divorced, my family has been my greatest strength. They have been my critic and my motivator. If it wasn’t for them I would not reflect on my short comings  nor would be able to survive alone.

Family and friends is the blessing that we tend to not consider as important factors in our life. Parents especially are the most sincere people in our life that we can ever have. Difference in opinion,  life decisions, friction in arguments, joys, successes and losses this is a part of every relationship. It is us who choose how to feel. To appreciate the people  who have been there for us when we needed them.

No family is perfect. Not one person on this earth is. I am not perfect. But we have to work through situations with everyone’s help. We need to be patient and forgiving. Because family is part of Allah’s mercy. And mercy should be a part of us.

To our families, especially to our parents who gave it all, let us be kind, understanding and forgiving.

“Limitless is your Lord in His mercy…” Qur’an 6:147

The first of countless first times..

“We either make ourselves miserable, or we make ourselves strong. The amount of work is the same.”

Yousuf finally started his kindergarten this past Tuesday. The morning was perfect. He was excited and happy. Never had he been in a large group of people alone, being this independent. But because his mommy had been hyping him up about how fun and awesome his new school would be, poor guy had his own perception of it. After I dropped him off, I couldn’t wait till the clock hit the dismissal time so I could finally ask how his day went. My expectations were put down exactly the same way his would have been after he found out what school actually was that morning.



Oh lord, from that moment to 48 hours later, we had moments where we both were taking turns between throwing tantrums and laughing with joy simultaneously.

The week has ended with him having food poisoning, and he is now at fair terms with his school life.

While all this happened, I faced my fears again. I knew that I would be walking him on his first day of school alone. To me it was the biggest challenge. I missed his father. A father was missed. I wished for Yousuf to happily walk into his first day of Kindergarten holding mommy and baba’s hands. A mother missed her child’s father. The mutual feeling only couples go through when their first born begins school. He wasn’t going to be there for me. I didn’t need him to be but I only wished.

The 2nd morning was all hell break loose of “MOMMY PLEASE DON’T LEAVE YOUSUF IN SCHOOL” . While we fought to put the car seatbelts on he asked me to facetime his dad. I quickly dialed my exe’s number. Thank God he picked up. He calmed him down in 2 minutes while I couldn’t do it in 20 minutes. As we drove to his school silently, I was sobbing away so Yousuf doesn’t see the tears his mom had for being a loser parent while his father sitting in another state, on a mere video call was the winner. And then I was talking down to myself again, “Yousuf will always need him and you can never be enough for him”.

Then a wake up call from God knocked sense into me. I met a single mother whose husband passed away while she was pregnant with her third daughter. How was she holding herself together? She had no option of having a father calm her child down on first day of school. If she was living through it, then why was I beating myself up!?

We women are emotionally fragile. We give up easily. Women like me rather cry their hearts out behind closed doors than to speak a word of their pain to anyone. Because women like me hate being weak. We hate being sympathized. We want to act like some super woman who can do it all alone. But we need help. It is okay to share your weakness sometimes. And I learn it the hard way every single time. I wasn’t a loser parent neither was my ex husband the winning parent. He just helped. And if it had not been him

It would have been anyone else.

Allah makes ways, and He creates sources of help. Had I not been weak I wouldn’t have learnt to be strong. Had I not been alone, I wouldn’t have known strength. At the end of the day it is all about perspectives. A bad day is not a guarantee of a bad life.

“We either make ourselves miserable, or we make ourselves strong. The amount of work is the same.”

Gender Equality.

I knew an elderly woman once a long time back. She became a widow just a decade of her marriage. She had no children. She had 5 brothers and 2 sisters. After she became a widow she was offered to stay with her younger sister and her family. They whole heartedly welcomed her. In a matter of few months they couldn’t get along. The woman moved back in to her own house that one of her brother’s built for her. She was offered several times by her siblings that she stay with them. That she doesn’t have to live alone. But she refused. She felt disgraced enough to become a burden on someone else. She continued to live alone all her life, battling her sickness and loneliness until she died somewhere in her 60’s. She was not old. But her loneliness, her sadness, her grief, her depression turned her into an ill woman. She lived in Lahore, Pakistan.

Today I was thinking about the society we live in. We have millions of advises to give to the person who dare share a problem. But we refuse to be quiet and be patient with them. We are so busy in our lives that we do not see others struggling . Our society especially the “desi” culture we have, have really made women feel that they are financially, emotionally and physically dependent on our men. This has in turn, made most of our women rebellious. Some desi women become outspoken and cross boundaries of morality and ethics to prove that they have rights, while some continue to be abused believing they will enter as queens of Paradise for suffering in silence. And only few are learning how to balance their role in a society where mostly men are dominant.

We women need to learn about those strong women who made a difference in this world behaving like servants of God only, without losing their modesty and dignity. There are women who have suffered, and have been abused. But they have been amazing single mothers. There have been single and successful women who have helped other men and women. Examples of Oprah Winfrey and the mother of Imam Bukhari have been my all time favorite.

We women need to learn that men are also created by God for a reason. Men and women are equal in their roles and responsibilities based on their psychological structure God has created. God makes no mistakes, we humans do. We need to be brave enough to accept our flaws and weaknesses as women, to accept that we do need men as much as men need us. Just like a son needs his mother, a daughter needs a father. Or a woman that needs a lovers comfort, and a man who needs his woman’s emotional support. A man can be equally weak as a woman. A woman can be equally weak as a man.

It’s all about understanding our roles, and getting help when we need it. Loneliness is not bravery. Arrogance is not success. Humility is not a weakness. Mistakes are not a permanent failure. A woman can never be a man, and a man can never be a woman.

Let me fail, again.

“Do the one thing you think you cannot do. Fail at it. Try again. Do better the second time. The only people who never tumble are those who never mount the high wire.”- Oprah Winfrey

My son, Yousuf returned from his dad’s home after visiting him for a week.

I finally saw the face of the woman who my ex-husband cheated with. On the video call that Yousuf did with his father. The face of my (ex) cousin sister since 2014. She talked to my son. I watched and heard while cleaning up his crayons.

I patiently took it all in. For now. Little does Yousuf know the truth. Yet.

All the memories flashed back. At bedtime, Yousuf asked me “Mommy why did you leave NJ home?” (He calls his dad’s home New Jersey home). And I thought for a minute what to answer him. How can I tell him that your step mom and father took me out of the picture to make way for their new home? He is only 5. So I just replied “because baba and her wanted mommy to go to Baltimore”. He asked “Why?” “Because baba wanted R. ((my cousin)) to live with him and Yousuf” . And few seconds later he switched the topic back to his cars.

I don’t know if I answered my son correctly. I don’t know if I am raising him right. I am a single parent for now. I am the parent he says “I will trash you mommy” when I set rules for screen time. I am the parent who is dealing with her emotional struggles as well as his. I am not a perfect mom. Nobody is. But I am trying my best. I asked his therapist today “Do you think I am strict with Yousuf? Where should I improve?” And she smiled and said “Continue doing what you are doing” . I am still unsatisfied with her answer. But this is what every single mother goes through. Every mother who is not single, but is fighting her own battles. All the beautiful mothers of this planet.

I make mistakes. I will make mistakes. I regret a lot of my actions. I disappoint myself as an individual and a mother several times a day. But I learn. I must learn. I must ask for advice from professionals and family and friends. And then think over everything and begin a new day with implementing changes. Sometimes just take a break. Do nothing. This too shall pass.

Every day is a challenge. Not every bad day is a guarantee of bad life. Not every loss is a loss. Not every failure is a regret. Believe in yourself. You will fall. But you will rise. You need to be brave enough to ask for help and accept your mistakes.

We are no wonder women. We are just human beings with a super power called “Self Believe”. I do however, would love to have flying as a super power. That’d be really cool. xD

My story.

My story. 

So she is finally here. Finally everything they ever dreamt of has come true. Her dream has come true. To become the bride of my ex husband. She entered as the bride in the home where I entered as his first wife and his love. Or so I had falsely believed. But here after 7 years of my wedding, he brought in his second wife, the woman I grew up with, my friend and now ex cousin, her. 

3 years into our marriage and he had already proved to be a narcissist selfish man to whom I was a robot serving his every command. Never once did I feel pressured because I was madly in love with him. I thought he was the most handsome, ambitious and fun loving adventurous guy. But I failed to see all of these characteristics because he never shared with me. He was handsome yet he was proud that every girl liked him. He was ambitious because he loved making money and spending it only on himself. He was fun and adventurous because he loved his sports and never took me to a single vacation except visiting his family in Saudi in our 5 years of marriage.

I cooked the food he liked, I dressed up the way he liked. I made sure house was clean, I was always presentable to him. I thought if I gave him the perfect home and became the perfect wife he will never ever lay eyes on another woman. Oh how wrong I was. In my own little fantasy world I was his true love. I never knew I was being abused and ignored. 

Until finally I started to feel his negligence where he started to devalue my physical looks, the food I made, the flaws in my personality and then physically and emotionally abandoning me of my spousal rights.

And then the trust came crashing down when I read those e-mails. Their love emails. That affair. Which blamed it on me. That because I was strict about them not being in touch I intrigued them to get closer. That because I accused her, she was defamed and now he had to restore her dignity.

2014 was when it all began, when she visited me at my home for a week. And by 2015, I got aware of their affair and he openly started saying he will marry her. I lost my sanity. My heart that mind that lived in the fantasy that he will never ever wrong me or leave me was shattered in a mere 3 seconds of reading their e-mails. He called her with all those cheesy names he had once called me. “lioness” “I love you”. They were mine. Those words were mine. Now they were hers. She took everything away in a matter of few years.

In 2016, he finally asked me to leave with our innocent son Y. Who was at that time 3 years old. I begged him that Y. will suffer without him. That he loves his baba so much. Just for once leave her for our family’s sake and I will do everything in my power to make us happy and complete. But nothing was heard. He served me with divorce papers few weeks before my sister, S. got married. My parents broke. And most of all I was shattered like tiny pieces of glass.

I felt dead. I handled Y.’s pain and mine. My sajdahs (prostrations to God) were the only thing that comforted me. And in each Sajdah I thought I would die. I had written my will of Y. should be given to S. after my death. In every sajdah I cried and felt like the heart would rip out of my chest and breathing used to stop. It hurt like it has never hurt before. I wished for death so this sharp pain could go away. I was tired emotionally, physically, financially I was broke. And then I used to look at my son sleeping next to the place I prayed. And then dua would change to “No God let me live for Y., he will have no one”

By 2018, I had come a long way. I changed in personality. Good and bad both. I have become resilient but assertive sometimes really rude. I cannot take lies. I cannot take people pushing me or ordering me around. I have learnt not to worship anyone except Allah (God). That I am still weak and vulnerable like a glass, but my strength and support is mountain solid from Allah. I pray for angels to defend me and Gods mercy to shield me and Y.

Miracles have happened and I still live amidst of the strongest betrayals and lies. The biggest miracle is Yas. God sent him when the news of their marriage date being set came to me. God gave me Yas.

Just when they got married, my wedding date was set. Y. and I have been given a hope again. I always wanted a sibling for Y. and we got a beautiful 2 year old Baby-J from Yas. We finally have a new life to look forward to. Not a perfect happily ever after. But a new family life with it’s ups and downs. A new hope of someone loving Y. and me as a husband and a father like we deserved. 

With them now married, my emotional struggles have begun in a new way. Now the fear dawns of her taking away my Yousuf from me. My last possession left for her to own. And his last attempt to make sure my new companion sees me as a mentally sick, selfish and misbehaved woman. 

My Sajdahs were never stopped since I read those e-mails. And they never will. God has brought me forward. I have an amazing family support but only I am the one who can make my pains go away. Only I can change my perspectives on life.

This I wrote to remind myself. Sana if you can live through that, and if God helped you through all this, remember God will never ever abandon you and your son. And whatever does happen that hurts you, God will,  like always show you, it all happened for the best. You are a lone fighter, but you have the army of God’s trust behind you. You did not destroy a family. You did not cheat. You are not characterless or a home wrecker. You are a mother under whose feet lies Jannah(paradise) of Yousuf. You are the servant of God and nobody else. And you will succeed. And to Day of Judgement you put your believe in, where every justice shall be served. This world is of mere years. 

You will be the wife of Yas. And you both will make this world’s struggles worth the pain, when you enter Heaven holding hands, together as one.

To my future,