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.

“Face your fears”, he had said.

How many times have we thought? And thought? And thought so much about what would happen if our fear(s) came true?

How much have we thought and drained ourselves emotionally? How much have we weighed ourselves down with our fears?

I still remember when I used to shake with fear whenever my ex talked about his second marriage to me while we were married. I used to beg him like a child to not mention it as it scares me. And he used to calmly say, “Face your fears, you are a strong woman”.

I realized it much later that he turned me into a strong woman. He forced my fears upon me and forced me to face them. He tore me and I patched myself up later.

It’s okay to worry. It’s okay to be scared. And to be honest once those fears come true you feel like a warrior after fighting it. But the fight is frightening. Our fears crush us when they happen. But most of the times I have experienced that they were not as horrific as I had thought.

My faith is what keeps me going. It is my only weapon to fight with. My prayers and my faith in my God is what has helped me fight myself when I overthink. My faith speaks to me when my mind is thundering loud with my fears. My faith is my sakina (peace).

I am learning that no matter how much I worry, things will happen. But when I over stress I get weak emotionally. I become a burden on myself and others. I am learning that majority of the times things do not end up that bad. And even if they do time helps you adjust. Time indeed is the best healer.

Find your strength. Your driving force. For me it is my faith. My faith that my God has always blessed me even when I was breaking. He has always helped me and provided for me. He took care of me. He has been my supporter. He created sources for me from places I could have never thought of.

My Allah has never failed me. Never. I am forever yours my Rabb (God). You are my biggest comfort.

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!

Tiny hearts, big feelings.

I am sitting at the airport lounge waiting for boarding to begin. Dropped off Y. to his dad for his winter break and now heading back to my home in Chicago. This is my first travel alone without anyone next to me. Not even my 5 yr old pandora’s box of “whys”. I miss him so much. It has been almost two years now to his daddy and mommy home turns, but every single time my heart hurts to let him go. He has adjusted better, not that he had any choice to accepting his new life.

His dad married first and now his mommy got a new person in his life. I cannot even imagine what and how many emotional battles children go through when they see their parents divorce and all the new changes of life that come along later. I wish I could once hear the words behind his blank stare for those few seconds every single time when I tell him about a new change in his life.

But just like adults survive our children do too. Just like some adults bloom in adversity, our kids do too. Allah gave us humans the strength to be patient, and gave us a heart that can heal itself. My baby was 3 when separation happened. I remember that day when I had told him. He could not even talk well. I do not know if he understood either. But my heart was crushed and my soul was damaged at that time. And I remember I held his tiny hands and I had said to him “Baba left mommy and home is gone” and I clearly remember his response because I was taken aback. He actually wiped my tears and said “Y. love mommy”. I cried hugging him tight. That was all Y. did to strengthen me.

People say divorce is harder when children are involved. Yes it is, but had it not been for my Y. I would have never been strong. He reminds me that I need to be strong and brave for him.

Just like his mom survives so does he and inshallah we always will because Allah has never abandoned us. We were and will never be alone.

Time to board on the airplane, after all the guardian angel that my Allah has blessed me with in the form of my husband and Y.’s step father awaits me.

Returning to the man who has finally started to make my world colorful again.

Adios.

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