It’s difficult not to feel hopeful now when the days are longer and you can almost sense the tendrils of spring in the air. Even though, throughout the whole winter, you’ve been depressed over things that still aren’t happening (yes, that). Maybe… it’ll all work out? In shaa Allah.
And if it doesn’t, I’m still cool right? I still have some worth, I’m still needed, I still contribute to this world. Right? My value is not dependent on whether I can secure a husband or not, whether I can produce offspring or not. Right?
Sure yeah, as long as I discuss it among people who have common sense. Unfortunately, my culture lacks it, thus among family, relatives, and random aunties, I’ll always be somewhat less than my married counterparts. I’ve been advised to ignore them. But what difference is it going to make? Their judgment, their understanding of the woman, is imprinted in me and even I can’t escape it – even I judge myself. What is so fundamentally wrong with me that I’m never chosen? Why do I succeed in most other things, but fail in… being a woman?
The fact that blogging has become outdated works to my benefit, as few people will read this. These are the thoughts that go through my mind as I say that “everything is ok” and nod at everyone’s advice. They don’t know that this is what I think of myself. Because if they knew, they’d worry for me or feel sorry for me. And then I’d feel guilty for having negative thoughts.
If there’s any one thing I’m proud of, it’s how I can just hide all the sadness and anger when I’m with other people. The fact that I can just do what is asked of me, or support others, even though I’d rather just feel sorry for myself (that’s reserved for places like this). I know it’s slightly hypocritical, but it doesn’t really matter what I’m going through or what happens to me.
Even if you ask me after reading all this, I’m still not going to be able to share. I’m still just going to nod and agree with your advice. So I’m sorry I’m inconsolable, but at least I’m not burdening you about all the stuff I’m going through. If you’re reading this, know that I did not intend to burden you. I’d be happy if you just pretended as if you’ve never read it. After all, next time you see me, you won’t see a trace of any of this.