We met atlast

My (ex) cousin walked in with my ex husband, holding my son’s hand.

Finally after 5 years I meet her. The last we met was when she came to stay in my house while I was married to my ex. Where she and my ex started their friendship and later wreck a home.

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She sat down with my ex. My husband and I walked to them. We took the initiatives. My husband shook hands with my ex and greeted him. And I walked up to her extended my hand and said “Long time no see” . She shook my hand with a smile and said “Yeah”. I said I was wondering when would I get a chance to see her. And she replied saying “well at-last we met.” And yeah that was exactly how we were supposed to meet.

I met the woman who now is bearing the child of my ex husband, the home wrecker who has everything I once did.

Why did I go up to her, shook hands and met with her? Because I wanted to look into the eyes of the woman who broke a family. Because I wanted to reassure myself something. Her eyes gleamed shamelessly. Her head held up high like she did nothing wrong. And my ex looked like a loser as usual. Both looked to me like shameless creatures proudly living their lives like they did absolutely nothing wrong.

But it was a big relief. Because I wanted to test myself and I passed. This was my milestone. My big achievement. I thanked my God for the things he took away from me. I do not consider it as a loss. God saved me from toxic people and toxic living. He replaced it beautifully.

My husband is no more a man I love. He is my best friend. My companion. He is the example of how a man should be as a husband and a father. And yesterday when I saw my ex and my husband standing infront of me, it was all clear. God showed me how worthy I am of being loved. What true love is.

My life is not perfect. My husband and I struggle a lot with issues relating to everything in life. But we know now that we both have each other and we will not mourn our losses no more. We lost the insignificant things. We have gained treasures now.

I have now officially in my emotional state, moved on.

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Get help like a brave person.

“The burden is so heavy. I want to come out and scream my heart out. I want to yell out ‘please try to understand’. My past still haunts me. My pain resurfaces repeatedly. I wish you understood what I am going through. Nothing is helping. I need someone to tell me what to do. Please. But none of you. Because even though you all love me you do not understand my feelings. I need a therapist or a counselor, a third outside person”

“You have so many things to be grateful for. Maybe your getting weak in faith. Recite more prayers. Go out more. Talk to us all. You do not need a therapist. You are not crazy. You just need to fix your perception and be happy. You just need to forget your past. Let it go. Sick people go to therapy. Crazy people take meds and psychological help. And worst other people will think you are mentally ill”

Above is a common conversation between a person who needs help and the common replies of the stigma and society’s view of therapy. A woman especially is not encouraged to seek professional help if she is suffering from domestic violence whether it is physical or emotional abuse. She in our distorted Desi (India, Pakistan, Bangladesh) culture is always told to be patient. She has to survive for the sake of her kids. Or who will pay for her and her kids food and shelter if she gets divorced? She is told that the more patient she is and saves a home she will be granted Heavens and things will get better in the future. But the future doesn’t come until she gets wrinkled and dies out of stress and depression. Children of abusive relationships turn out emotionally unstable. Its a huge mess.

Say even if a woman just needs a third person to help her go through the normal stresses of her life because she has too much going on, she will be looked down upon as someone who is weak and plotting revenges and planning breaking up of families. And trying to defame her family or her husband and in-laws.

A man who needs help will be labelled as weak and “not a man” if he is emotionally weak. So many men break after their loved ones pass away, or because of betrayals by family members. The Prophet Mohammad PBUH took advices and found help when he was emotionally weak too. Prayers and faith are the foundation of your strength but God made other human beings for resources too.

A man does not bring sustenance to a woman. God made him the source. A woman and man are equal in the eyes of God. The stigma behind conditions like physical and mental abuse, mental illnesses need to be eradicated.

Seek help. You can do it secretly but you must if you need it. It will help you a long way. I did. I still do. I would have been a havoc had my family not encouraged me to seek professional help. I suffered and survived emotional abuse and brutal betrayal. I am still a work in progress. And I wish no woman or man goes through what I did. But if you need it. Please find professional help. It is not a shame upon you.

You are brave and God will provide for you. We rely only on God and we shall fight against our weaknesses and become strong and happier.

Let People Talk.

Past few days I have been thinking about some people who used to have good thoughts about me have changed. Few relationships got sour which is a natural aftermath of a divorce. A divorce ultimately turns dirty when there is a blame game. So I have been thinking lately about my ex in laws, and few mutual friends of my ex husband and me who I am no longer in contact with.

Up until my ex started the divorce case in the court, my ex in laws were supportive of me. They liked me and said good things to me and about me. Until the divorce case ran in the court. That is when my ex got upset at his family for being in contact with me and blaming me of being greedy and sinfully trying to take all of his money as child support and alimony. No matter how much I explained that the money was allotted by the court my ex FIL kept e-mailing me that I was a greedy person and my ex MIL accused me of becoming evil and plotting revenge against her son. Finally, they all turned against me when I refused to let my son travel outside the USA out of fear that my son would be taken away from me, which any mother (a woman who had been brutally betrayed by her trusted ones) would do so. The people who had cursed and shamed the home wrecker, had finally accepted her and made her part of their family. Long story short, I, the woman who had lived with them for 5 years, and whom they came to know was immediately an evil, selfish and a greedy woman. Oh and the one who took their grandson away from them.  How hard hearted must I be?

It bothers me sometimes only. Because I still miss my ex-inlaws. I miss those little children I considered as my own. I miss a family I had come to love over the years. So definitely it hurts to know how I am wrongly looked upon now. Point being there will always be people who will wrongfully accuse you. Throw dirt at you. Label you with cheap names. It shall hurt. I get desperate at times that I should message my MIL once if I could that I am not who she thinks I am. That I have no intention and I have never planned to take her grandson away. For once just message my ex SIL that I miss our wacky jokes and the times we have discussed lame issues. For once if I could clear out all that I am wrongfully accused of. Defend my honesty.

Just like me you will have instances where you want to shout out to the world your true self. Defend your innocence. Fight and prove that you did not do what you are being accused of. But I cannot convince the world. You cannot either. So I pray. I pray hard. That the God who has a time set for everything shall one day bring justice. Whether I see it in my life or not, it shall happen. That one day they will know I was hurt too. I suffered more than anybody in that tragedy.

And my confidence is restored. I know that my silence would speak for me. That the person who is on the right does not beg for respect or dignity. I do not need to prove to them. I did not destroy lives. I will not beat myself up and worry about how to prove my intentions. Respect is earned and not everyone will respect me. Not everyone will like me. I will always have few people who will falsely label me and so will you. Pray hard. Be kind and offer your true self to everyone. Respect and dignity comes from God. And truth always prevails. A time is set. You will know that you are right when you have peace within you. You are content with your life.

Stay Calm and Let People Talk. Give Your best and Let People Talk.

Let People Talk and Hand it to God.

“My Crown is in my heart, not on my head:
Not deck’d with Diamonds, and Indian stones:
Nor to be seen: my Crown is call’d Content,
A Crown it is, that seldom Kings enjoy.”
William Shakespeare, King Henry VI, Part 3

The future of the abuse

Sometimes when you think you are there now, you really did not reach there yet. When you really think you can still outsmart your abuser but you cannot. Or so you believe..

My ex still comes to my life and rocks my sanity. And my few shaky seconds come alive again. This is still happening.

Even after divorce, I have to deal with the man who continues to try making my life miserable because of the dealings I have to do with him regarding my son. Every single time my old self returns and I feel helpless about what I wouldn’t do to knock sense into that loser. But this time it is regarding my son.  And every single time he starts to instill that very dangerous feeling again, I start to question my sanity. I begin questioning myself.

Did I incite the argument? Did I make matters worse? Am I really making his life miserable? Am I still not over him?..

But now I pull myself together from these thoughts in a snap. It has gotten way better. Unlike during my marriage and during the battle of divorce in the court, I do not emotionally break down. It used to take me weeks to feel positive again. Sometimes a whole week just to make myself believe that I am not wrong.

Now it takes just a minute right after I start questioning myself. I answer it. This guy is a professional manipulator . A pathological liar and a cheat. At really low times in the past I used to read my diary entries from the past, the time he was cheating on me during marriage. I used to go through my old diary logs and read what I had written as to how he used to crush my soul. How he had lied to the whole world and presented me as the crazy woman. How he put labels on me. How he damaged me. While he was having his gala time with another woman, I used to be sulking and blaming myself. Reading the past entries I used to get back to the track. I still do. They serve as a reminder to myself of how far I have come along. For the blessings my God has given me now and always.

I no longer cry or hurt like I used to. I no longer blame myself for every time my ex emotionally attacks me. All thanks to my God for the strength of the prayers I do. For the support of my family and friends. This battle of dealing with an abuser will remain forever in my life as I have a child with him. For the sake of my child. But I have learnt to ignore my ex abuser. Learnt to laugh at his stupid old and repeated accusations. I have but he has not moved on. After all, the peace he took away from me has been restored. And there is a God or a Karma, whatever you want to call it.

I cannot give enough gratitude to my God that he has saved me from this man. Either he would have killed me with the grief he gave me, or I could have ended up as a psychotic miserable soul living with him. Thank God he divorced me. Oh thank my dear Lord.

As much as it is hard for people who suffer from abuse to move on, always remember you will survive. It will take you months maybe years because only you know the intensity behind your abuse. But do not lose hope. The healing maybe a lifelong struggle, but you will be reborn. You will bloom. Get help. Involve your loved ones to hear you out. If not family find a therapist/ counselor. You really are not crazy if you are questioning your sanity. Normal people do not hurt other people. They do not hurt themselves. Be positive and remain strong. You are a warrior and you shall conquer.

 

My Y.

6 years ago today at exactly 10:57 am he came in this world. The tiny 4lb baby boy. A boy that I had been praying for since I was a teenager. I had always wanted a boy because I wanted to raise a strong leader like the most successful leader in history Umar ibn Al Khattab. So my wish was granted on Feb 7 2013.

We mothers carry dreams but God has his own plans. Never did I know that my little boy would face the life that even an adult would call it a nightmare. So much did my little boy see in the last few years. I did not know that my little boy would face the real life in such an early age.

God gave him a life early on that will make him the leader I want him to become. He will stumble and trip, He will cry and pause, but He will never fail and will never stop. Just like he always has. I know his heart breaks , I know his feelings hurt and I know he is scared and sometimes confused. But he has become to learn from everything around him. His heart is of gold and whoever meets him always have one thing to say about him. “He is very humble and sweet”.

He is my brave boy for whom Allah has set the perfect grounds to rise as a strong man I always wanted him to be. Like Allah wants him to be. He is my Y. He shall survive the storms of his life just like he does now and will be the real man. He will rise just like the Prophet I named him after, who was also hurt by his closest ones. He will be inshallah like Prophet Yousuf bin Yaqoob.

To my brave warrior who sings away his worries, Happy 6th Birthday!

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.

“HOW WAS SCHOOL!?”

“I DONT LIKE SCHOOL. TRASH IT MOMMY!”

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.