Friends, Fashion & Faith

Today, two of my friends came over for lunch. When I told them I was having difficulty trying to figure out how to wear the dress I bought for my cousin's upcoming wedding, they told me to try it on to see if they could help. It's a halter/maxi dress that I wanted to find a gold shrug for. Since I don't wear sleeveless clothing, I've been frustrated trying to find something to wear with it!


My friends made me feel like Cinderella as they pinned and stuffed, and worked tirelessly, trying to figure out how to turn a gold shawl into a cover-up. (I never found a shrug!) After spending over an hour in my dressing room trying to come up with a solution for me, they realized they couldn't figure out how to make the shawl stay without slipping and revealing my arms/shoulders, so they offered to sew the shawl onto the dress or make me a shrug if I found gold material at a fabric store.
What I find most fascinating about these women, is that they are Christian-American's. One grew up outside of Philadelphia, and the other grew up in the Midwest.

They didn't judge me or call me a prude and I didn't have to explain why my shoulders and arms needed to be covered. They didn't make me feel uncomfortable about my beliefs and even wished they could do more for me. I'm the one that made jokes about being excommunicated from my mosque if I revealed any skin, and they laughed with me, not at me!


On the other hand, I've had Muslim women laugh at me and look down upon me, simply because they don't agree with my beliefs on modesty - women who have told me I'm backward and old-fashioned for following the "non-progressive" rules of Islamic modesty; Women who feel the need to follow the, "If you've got it, flaunt it" mentality like most of Western society.


Women like you, Christine and Linda are priceless gems, and I am so grateful to have you as friends.
This was an awesome day for me! Not just because I got to spend it with both of you in my boudoir, but because I now realize that I have all the friends I need, right here in good ol' York, PA!


Love you!
xoxoxo

Take All the Survey's You Want! (Apology for previous post!)

I would like to apologize to the people who were offended by my recent rant concerning the "What type of ______ are you" surveys. What was meant as satire and harmless sarcasm/humor was not well-received by a few of my "counterparts" and I'd like you all to know that my intention was not to be hurtful. To be honest, I didn't know people felt so passionately about them!


It occurred to me last night, after posting pictures of my cat, that some may not understand the love of my pets or appreciate my need to share so many pictures of them, and those people have a right to their views. I'd be lying if I said I wouldn't be equally offended by a post stating women who post more pics of their cats than their kids are crazy! Some people without pets may not realize that pets are as important as humans! I am prepared to debate the fact that pets are family members, too! (I feed them, groom them, play with them and let them sleep in my bed with me, which makes them members of my family; my children!)


I realize that as a writer, I will always have critics. After blogging about my life's experiences, I've been criticized by members of my own family for sharing too much detailed information and for divulging too many of my private thoughts! (Particularly my confession that I didn't want a child so soon after I was married, because I'd wanted to complete my degree and because I felt unsettled in my marriage.) A few people thought it was unnecessary to share that thought, but being the narrator of my own story, I felt it necessary to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help me God!


I understand that sharing stories about my life vs. sharing my opinions on the actions of others are quite different, and I know I have a habit of sounding judgmental at times, and I am trying to correct that behavior.


I can't promise I'll change overnight, but I will focus on being less offensive, and learn how to sensor my thoughts in the future. Social media is still a new platform without clear rules and boundaries, but I'd like to use it in a positive way, as a forum to foster my creativity and share ideas and news that will be beneficial and informative, especially concerning politics and religion.


The first rule of communications is: Know your audience. It's a delicate balancing act when it comes to social media, because I know that it's my profile page, yet I have to understand that my "friends" or "followers" are my audience. Since it's written communication without facial cues, my words can be misinterpreted, too. I refuse to add winky faces (or other emoticons) after every sentence, so I have to determine whether the miscommunication occurs because I'm not a very good writer, or because of the blurred lines in non-verbal communication. (Probably, both!) I also have to consider the fact that a lot of people don't know me as well as I'd assumed. Second rule: Don't assume anything.


These are not excuses, they are simply explanations. Better yet, lets call them results from a "What type of writer are you" survey!


The truth is, I felt the need to apologize, because on one hand, my gut was telling me I'd done something wrong, but on the other hand, my pride was saying, "You've done nothing wrong. Don't  apologize for your right to your opinion" and that's when I stopped to ask myself, "What have I got to lose?" The answer was, "My pride." If I've learned anything over the years about Islamic etiquette or from watching Super Soul Sunday, It's the importance of stripping away one's ego and doing whatever it takes to humble oneself.


As I strive to be a better person, I know I must ask for your forgiveness. My intentions were not in line with my actions.


However, if you want an apology from me for posting too many pictures of my cats/kids, you're not getting one! That would be asking too much!


Thanks for reading!

What Type of ______Are You Surveys that you need to STOP taking!

ATTENTION: People who love taking, "What type of _____are you?" surveys! For the love of God, please STOP! I've seen them all, ranging from "what type of lover are you?" to "what type of Disney princess are you?" to "what type of rock formation are you?" Every time I see your results in my newsfeed, I hold back my judgmental response...BUT NO MORE, PEOPLE!


If you MUST take these banal surveys, remember that the relationship based surveys can be tricky. For example, the "what type of lover are you" survey is a matter of one's own perspective. Wouldn't your partner's answers be more telling and reveal what type of lover you are?

For instance, I think more highly of myself than any man does, therefore, I know that I'd be more biased while answering questions regarding my qualities/abilities, yet less forgiving of another's faults or weaknesses. Even when we try to be truthful about ourselves, we tend to overlook some of our flaws. And since I think I'm pretty damn near perfect, (that's a joke, calm down!) I know that the algorithms used to determine these results aren't perfect at all! They're similar to the computer generated results on match.com or shaadi.com: THEY SUCK! Maybe you recall a rant I posted a few years ago about match.com using it's "highly sophisticated technology and search results" to find me "Kenny from Kentucky" who stands "tall" at 5'7" in his dungarees! (Disclaimer: Names have been changed to protect the innocent!)


Perhaps what I find most complex about these surveys, is what drives people to take them. If you want to know what type of Disney princess you'd be or which Dwarf you'd be better suited to marry, maybe you need to get off facebook and check yourself into a psych ward!
Don't you find it disturbing when a friend posts, "I got diamond! Find out what kind of gem you would be if you were a stone"? Am I the only one who finds all of this bizarre?


Surveys were created to gather information from a particular group of people with the soul purpose of bringing about change or giving the people more of what they wanted - Not merely more of what they wanted to hear! Do the people taking these "fun" surveys ever actually change into precious gems, or Disney Princesses, or Don Juan Demarcos? I hope not, because that would be really weird!


And for the record, all women are great lovers! You just haven't found your Disney Prince Charming yet...probably because he's hiding in the forest from the survey-taking-fantasy-life-craving-lunatic you've become! But don't feel bad, I haven't found my Prince Charming yet either, probably because match.com's system is down, and it's churning out results that would make my 80 year-old matchmaking grandma cringe, too!

Wait or Go Mad!

As a parent, I can completely understand why people wait or chose not to have kids. Children talk back and find fault with all you do, so you’re not perfect anymore; They continue to leave their wet towels on the floor, so your carpets don't smell good anymore; They won’t brush their teeth unless you’re standing over them in the bathroom, so they don't care about personal hygiene anymore; They still get 3 months off in the summer, even though most of us don't live on farms anymore; They consume more calories than they care to burn, because they're not as active anymore; And they’re bloody expensive and not as easy to please, so they aren't cheap anymore. Lastly, you have to put away money for an education, even though people in their early twenties aren't serious about life anymore! Life savings that I could’ve spent on therapy, vacations and a BMW, but LIFE AIN'T ABOUT ME anymore! 

"She's Still Not Married Yet?" "Tauba Tauba!"

If I had a penny for every time I accurately read  peoples minds, I’d be a millionaire! If you know anything about immigrant communities, you know that we like to be in each others business, all the time! The questions asked by my friends, family and even by complete strangers usually concern my decision to remain single. (Or in their not-so-humble opinion, my decision to live an incomplete life!)

A sampling of such heart-felt concern may include any or all of the following:

- "Why isn't she married yet?"

- “Doesn't she want to get married again?”
- “Is she at least looking?” 
- “What about her parents, aren’t they looking?”
- “Doesn’t her brother in-law have any single friends?”
- "Do you think she might be the gay? Astaghfitullah! Tauba Tauba!"
- And my all time favorite question is, “Has she tried Shaadi.com?” The Indian equivalent to match.com, except the parents and siblings make most of the profiles, and if that doesn’t explain why they're so creepy, then it definitely explains why those men have profiles on Shaadi.com!

As a 36 year-old, working, single mother living in my own home, I don’t think it’s my parents job to find me a husband - they’re retired! And if I have to resort to fake profiles of people on dating websites, I may as well jump off a very high wall and break my leg! I wouldn’t jump off a cliff, because I don’t have a reason to die yet; I’m not married!
To be fair to the inquiring minds, I have been single for the past 8 years now, so I get it! What I don't get, is why they can't accept my desire to be single...For now, at least!


Maybe it's because being unmarried in my culture is as sinful as talking to boys through the “segregation curtains/room dividers” during the fundraising events at the mosque! It brings shame on the family and keeps the wagging tongues of the aunties moist with reasons for why, “She's still not married yet?”

I understand that some people have a sincere interest in my happiness, but this post is directed towards those who are insincere in their "perplexity over my situation!" It's also for those who are just plain nosey and bored, or maybe they just find my life so intriguing, because they've never met a single woman in her late thirties before?
Occasionally, I'll give someone the benefit of the doubt, and begin to explain why I have been uninterested in the endless pursuit of husband-hunting - mostly due to the unhappy couples I know and because of my magnetism to idiots, as of late - but then they cross the line and throw my son into the conversation by adding a guilt-trip twist to their endless inquiries!

“What about your son, he deserves to see you happy with a man!” “He needs a man in his life too, poor thing.” “He needs to understand the importance of being married and in a committed relationship.” “He needs a male role model.” etc. etc.

I agree with the last suggestion, but what I just wish the meddling aunties and my well-meaning friends could understand was, he does have male role models. He has my lovong father, his awesome uncle and my cousins who visit often to take him biking, kayaking or to the movies. 

And as far as "needing to be married" - if you could read my mind, you’d hear my thoughts too: If marriage really proved to be a life-long commitment to someone, (regardless of interfering in-laws and idiosyncrasies in your partner that wouldn’t even be tolerated in the animal kingdom!) then we wouldn’t have the legalized institution of divorce! We also wouldn't have a society with such a heavy dependency on drugs and alcohol. (Yes, it happens in Muslim communities, too!)

And to use my son as a pawn, shows how little they’ve bothered to get to know him. I haven’t had to read his mind to understand his feelings on the subject. In his exact words, “You’re not allowed to get remarried, unless you marry someone like Steve Jobs or Bill Gates.” In other words, they have to be tech savvy billionaires who would spoil him rotten with every electronic gadget in the world! Another comment he made at the tender age of 9 was a bit more disturbing: “You’re not getting married again, because step-dads beat their step-children. I’ve seen it on TV!” Ummm? When  did he stop watching annoying Disney Channel shows, and start watching those damsel-in-distress Lifetime movies? (Excuse me while I set up the parental controls!)

Now you see why he wins the guilt-trip-and-scare-me-to-death-about-the-prospect-of-getting-remarried battle, hands down! Sorry aunties! His argument is way better than yours, because I’m the only one allowed to beat my child and watch the Lifetime channel in this house!

Now, here’s where it gets complicated and tricky. Why don't some people believe me when I suggest that I’m content, and sometimes, even quite happy to be single?

Why does my comfort level with being a single woman in my thirties, ruffle the arm hairs of so many women in my culture? Why am I considered “abnormal” for not pining for a husband? Why do people assume that I must be putting on an act, or that I must be in denial, or deep down in a lot of pain? Or worse, why do they have to wonder if I’m secretly gay?!Just because I've developed a deep seething hatred for some men over the years, doesn’t mean I prefer women as life partners!

Aren’t we encouraged by Oprah and all the self-help Deepak Chopra guru types to become comfortable with ourselves, and to love who we are - even if we are overweight or have bad skin? (I don't have those problems, in case your curios!) Doesn’t self-love go beyond our outward appearance and require a true love of ourselves - no matter what our circumstances in life are. For instance: We may not be as outrageously rich as celebrities, but we should still love our lower paid, hardworking selves; We may not have the latest fashions, but we should still love our Target clearance and thrift store finds; We may not live in mansions, but we should still love our homes; And we may not be married, but we should still be allowed to eat Breyers Extra Creamy chocolate ice cream every night! (Thank God for that 2 for $6.00 sale at the grocery store!)

I have been single for most of my life, and what people need to understand, is that this is my "normal.” I also wish people would stop to realize that the shock of losing Hamzah’s father so suddenly still hasn't sunk it yet. I’m not using his death as an excuse to never seek companionship, but it is a process that we have to continue working on, and one that cannot be rushed. Especially not to silence or appease the aunty crowd!

Many of my friends and relatives felt the need to find a new spouse immediately upon the dissolution of their marriage. I don’t understand that, mainly because I feel it's important to explore your pain and take time for introspection. I definitely don't feel that a spouse is necessary for survival and I'm totally opposed to "conforming" to society. (Hence, my marriage to a Black Muslim man while belonging to a small-minded desi community!) Marriage should be an option, but not the ONLY option. And you really don’t know me if you think I’m advocating a, “date till you die” option! This is about the choice between getting married or remaining single, not about getting married or remaining uncommitted.  IMHO, (In My Humble Opinion - for those older than me!) the greater question to be asked is: Now that women have degrees, jobs, the right to bare arms and GPS on cell phones, are men even a relevant appendage anymore?

I've grown accustomed to living without a man. I'm alone, but rarely feel lonely. I have my son, two cats, a beautiful Victorian era home that I rent and maintain as if it were my own. Anyone running a household knows that housework is never-ending, items on a grocery or to-do list reappear weekly, children's needs are never fully met; one day he needs new shoes, the next he needs a new binder or soccer cleats. I can't make time for man-hunting when I have plenty to occupy my time as a single parent and as the head of my household. Keeping up with all the bills and budgeting to balance my checkbook can feel like a fulltime job at times. (Mainly because math/finance isn't my strong suit, and because I'm always trying to squeeze in a frivolous expense. A girl can never have too many pairs of boots or summer sandals!)

Choosing to remain single, (i.e. not looking) also has a lot to do with keeping drama and chaos at bay. I'm currently experiencing a life of calm and contentment, and have no desire to exit this peaceful state. Since men (and their mothers) never come without drama and chaos, I have to wait until I've learned to keep my inner chi and zen like state in tact, even while dealing with a man (and his mother!) At the moment, it's best to avoid such unappealing invitations!

I use the same reasoning that many couples use to decide whether or not to have children. Some feel that having children would turn their life upside down. And they're right, it does! Some wait until they are ready to take on the balancing act of career vs. family life. Some will call that selfish, others would call that family planning. 

Now here's a fact that everyone can agree on: Personal choice is precisley that, PERSONAL! It's about what fits your life best. Unfortunately, choosing not to have children is unfairly seen as selfish and unnatural, but with a world population of 7.15 billion, isn’t the argument for procreation outdated? Need I mention all the orphans in need of loving and secure homes? In the same respect, some people view the choice to remain single as selfish and unnatural, yet few consider the fact that there are more women on the planet than men! Maybe it's not a "choice" at all!

Why do we expect people in the 21st century to continue thinking like people in the 10th century? And more importantly, what’s normal and ideal'for you, aunty jee - is not normal and ideal for me!

The fact that I'm writing this and trying to explain myself, shows how little our society has progressed.

I'm open to the fact that my views are quite capable of changing on topics such as these, because I’ve always been a thinker. I don’t think my personal beliefs have remained the same for more than a year or two. Which is why, “The only constant in my life is change” is one of my favorite quotes! My ideas adapt and change as much as the arrangement of my furniture in my living room, and that’s not because I’m bored or inconsistent as I’d once thought. (Well, the constant rearranging of furniture may be due to boredom!)

For me, self-discovery has a lot to do with my evolving ideas. I also credit the wonderful new people I encounter and the places I’ve had the great fortune of visiting. I could write a whole book on the exhilaration I feel while traveling alone! Interactions with others, vacations and self-exploration are the best way for me to evolve. Staying in the same mental space for too long has always resulted in self-destructive thoughts. I need to move, to be able to move-on. By, "move"-  I don't mean “leave" - though moving out of my small town would probably result in even greater self-discoveries, like how much more I’d have to pay in rent to experience life in a big city!

As a daydreaming teen, I was sure that I’d have two boys and two girls, and the closest desi equivalent to a Johnny Depp lookalike discovered at our annual Pakistani Independence Day festival in D.C. I imagined a life of driving my BMW to lunch dates, shopping with my equally happy friends and relatives, all the while gushing about our fabulous lives and flawless complexions! Can you tell I watched one-too-many episodes of trash television!

But, life had a different plan for me! Or maybe, I took a different path or made a wrong turn? That can’t be right, because I believe in free will.  Yet, I also believe that God leads us on journeys, and if we stay open and allow Him to lead us, we will eventually realize that we're exactly where we’re supped to be, with/without who we're supposed to be with/without.

That’s God’s way of saying, “You’re either with Me or against Me.”  

So how do I know if you're with me? Because you don’t ask why I’m not married. And how do I know if you’re against me? Because I can read minds!

How To Write On Without Permission

First written on August 13, 2012 after taking my son, Hamzah back to my homeland, London, England.

During a recent trip to London, many of my friends and family asked how Hamzah and I were coping with the loss of his father, Bilal. They also asked why I had stopped posting chapters on my blog/memoir, “Me, Myself & I.” I couldn't claim that I'd rid myself of narcissism, because they would’ve seen straight through my seasonably appropriate ensemble, which was complimented by the pop of color in my shoes and on my nails! They were also friends with me on facebook, and had probably seen my daily posts and pictures of me, my son, and my cat!

The truth is, I stopped writing because I've been feeling conflicted about the chapters that talk about my marriage and divorce to Bilal. The questions I’d ask my shrink - if I could afford one - would be: 

- Have I lost the right to share the hardship and pain that I had felt and expressed in previous years?
- When someone close to you, (who you had a complicated relationship with) passes away, must you forget and/or erase the hurtful memories?
- Will deleting the chapters in my blog absolve me from my apparent guilt?"

I still don’t know the answers posed to my imaginary shrink, but I do know that there's another reason why I'm unable to write a new chapter. Since Bilal’s passing, I have now experienced something in my life that I cannot turn into a humorous tale of triumph. For the first time ever, something isn’t funny. It never will be.

I don’t want to dishonor the memory of Bilal. He had many good qualities that I took for granted, and don’t believe anyone should be remembered badly after they die. After all, I am raising our son, and Hamzah shouldn't know about all of the problems we experienced when we were married or divorced.

I'm feeling a tremendous amount of guilt for not having realized Bilal’s own pain and suffering during his life, and after re-reading chapters in my blog pertaining to our marriage/divorce, I’m quite disgusted at my self-absorbed musings. But then again, it was my blog - Meaning, my interpretation of events. It was my story. And it is called, “Me, Myself & I” so at least I was following my own plot! However, I realize now, that I should've spent a bit more time on "myself" before jumping to conclusions and thinking I had it all figured out in my late 20's!

To my surprise, Bilal searched for it on the internet, and let me know that he wasn't amused by my candid stories or by my interpretation of events. I suggested that he write his own account of our marriage, and that we could compare notes. A few weeks later, he texted me that he wasn't up for the challenge, even though I told him we could go on the Today show as the first divorced couple to have co-written a book. He laughed, not realizing that I was serious!

When I first started writing about my divorce, I felt I had to play the same role that I'd played in court. I built a case for myself, (with the help of an attorney) to prove why I was the victim, and why Bilal was the guilty party. I continued to do this years later, to remind myself and others why I had chosen to leave and in hopes of justifying my actions. When you are the first woman in your family to get divorced, you find yourself constantly defending yourself against every distant relative who has the nerve to ask, "Why did you leave, behti?"

It wasn’t until I found out that Bilal was sick, 3 years after our divorce, that I finally saw him as the victim and myself as the jerk. If anything, that realization proved that I still loved him, because I sincerely cared for him and wanted him to get better. However, it also didn’t take long for me to lose my patience with him again, and go back to defending the position I had taken in court; Plaintiff.
With everything else I have experienced, (and if you’ve read the pre-2010 chapters of my blog, you may remember some of the details of my life, which may be TMI for you, but a necessary cathartic purge for me!) I always managed to transform pain or hardship into a lesson learned, or an “Aha moment!”

Whether it was being forced into an arranged marriage at the age of 16, or finding a lump and having to get tested for cancer when I was 24, and thinking, ‘don’t you have to have breasts to get breast cancer?’ Or having your first child and feeling clueless as a parent, then becoming an even more clueless single parent, or discovering that one of my ovaries just up and left when I was in my early 30’s!

I can find humor in all of those scenarios. Maybe not at the precise moment that the doctor is performing the excruciatingly painful examination, but after I'm dressed and she hands me my diagnosis: "Missing right ovary."

Some of the questions for the nurse included:
- Should we do a Google search instead? I can always find what I’m looking for when I Google it!
- What do you mean, ‘It’s not there!’ Can an ovary just up and leave like that, without giving me 3 weeks’ notice?  How unprofessional!
- Or, (last one) Did it get ticked off, because I only used it once to have a child?


I actually wasn't trying to be funny there, I thought organs could self-destruct if you stopped using them. Wouldn’t that explain why some men are so heartless? (She shoots, she scores!)
You get my point though, right? Humor (and a cup of chai/tea, if you read Chapter 3) can make everything more bearable. (Unless you're not a fan of tea or corny humor!)

Turning a life-threatening, false alarm diagnoses into a humorous tale is easy for me, but there's no way to create humor out of the loss of the man who was once my husband and the father of our only child. Gone. Forever.

December 18, 2010 and the weeks, months and years that followed have been a challenge, to say the least. Bilal’s death will always be a memory full of pain, deep sadness, regret, disappointment, horror, shock, outrage and disbelief.

Once, when I was struggling to write and feeling depressed, a friend of mine once posed the question, ‘Things aren’t always funny, are they?’ He was right.

But I’ve always used humor as my measuring stick for progress. If I could laugh about it, I was over it.

I know that it gets easier, and that you have to find a way to live through the pain, the deep sorrow, the anger, the regrets, etc. For the most part, I’d say I’m slowly learning how to do that. After being a stay at home mother since Hamzah was born, I started working my first office job only 2 months after Bilal's death. My previous two-year position as a part-time news correspondent for The York Daily Record wasn’t considered “a real job” since covering stories for a small county isn’t as demanding as covering NBC's Nightly News.

The point is, I am moving forward. I moved out of my parents’ home. (Where I'd moved back in after my divorce.) Hamzah and I are now living alone for the first time in my life. I volunteer for various nonprofits, I was elected to the Board of Directors for a local arts organization. I also fulfilled a long-time desire by adopting a cat from the SPCA.

By the grace of God, Hamzah was granted a scholarship (financial aid) to a private school, and is thriving. Alhumdulillah.

Instead of blogging about my life, I went back to facebooking about it! I like to share Hamzah’s latest funny comments, and post more pictures than anyone cares to see of my new favorite child, Rocco - my cat! I’ll gladly tell you when I’ve had a leak in my bathroom and even show you the gaping hole in the ceiling. It’s not breaking news, but it's what's happening in the world of Me, Myself & I, and it might explain why I feel so unfulfilled!
I always felt better after completing a chapter in my journal or blog. Once it was down on paper (or in a word document) I felt a sense of accomplishment. I thought I could close each chapter of my life as I shared it with others.

Now, I feel I have to reevaluate my life pre-December 18, 2010 and even question my authority to share it.

I’m stuck, because I don’t know if I have the right to talk about Bilal anymore. I often write to him in a separate journal. I tell him what Hamzah's up to, I share my sorrow and guilt with him. I thank him for appearing in my dreams. It all helps a little bit. However, I'm not sure if I should pursue my desire to publish a book with all the details of my life, because he was a part of it. It's on hold until I am granted permission to discuss those memories, thoughts and discoveries that pertain to Bilal. But whose permission should I be seeking?

If I didn’t take the time to understand Bilal when he was alive, will I ever understand how he died? And most importantly, is it too late?