Something worth while

It's the thing I love, and the thing I hate. Another thing is worth doing. My presence isn't that influential nor big, its crucial and important which make my existence vital. I'm a mother. That's the answer. The most unappreciated and uncared for in the world. The unwanted but expected job as a woman. Luckily, there's so many reels to educate younger woman about what marriage is expected for a woman. A grey area of life. Not the white nor black. Not the important part of the furniture. She's the duster. Not the giver nor a taker. She's the hand lending and taking. The kind of job you'll be rewarded in the afterlife. I always wonder why Allah swt grant woman's path to Jannah so easy, if she pray five times a day, fast during Ramadhan, protect her chastity and obey her husband. Well ladies, warning alert. IT'S ACTUALLY HARD. Islam says childbirth eliminates all past sins. Its because childbirth is the most painful thing on earth. Same goes to being a wife/mother. Especially a wife of a traditionalist. 

Islam is beautiful. Tradition is not. A traditional marriage treats wives like slaves. A husband becomes automatically dumb in the presence of a wife. He supposedly forget what neat, manners, conscience, and daily routine is. Just because he feels his responsibility is big to reward him such stupidity.  These breed, being the last child of an 80 year old couple is the most spoiled man ever created. Thankfully, God is merciful and fair, He has destined these man's wife from the most responsible and empathetic woman in the world. They got paired up because they completed one another. She completes his sudden incompetences, forcing to believe she'll be rewarded in the after life for taking care of an incompetent unliveable baby husband. 

How can a woman do something worth while when she has to take care of a 30 year old, 4 year old and a 1 year old simultaneously, every day, of her life? Especially living under a traditionalist? I guess she's stoping another traditionalist lifestyle existence by keeping her feet on the ground, teaching her son the importance of self care and empathy, her daughter to never settle for less. I guess that is something worth while. Isn't? 

Static Heart

You can say I am a wanderer. Wanderer of hearts, of mind. Never in the presence. I'd like to think its because God doesn't trust me as a traveler. Although it is my dream to travel. To see all the beaches and museums, mosques all over the world. Learning history and arts in its unique background. But until marriage, I seemed to be doing all that in my home. And for the longest time, I felt lost when I'm not wandering off. Feeling static. Static heart. I have that way with people. Dependable. If a person would describe me as an object, they would say I am a doll, meant to be kept up in a cupboard. Either that or forgettable. A person who comes and goes. Somewhat invisible. I think thats best describe me. Invisible. The only person who always sees me is my two children. Well they don't have much of a choice, do they? I hope it never change. Them or occasionally my husband. For comfort and desire. 

I always wonder why am I the way I am. The silencer. The giver. The accepter of fate. I was never a woman of words. Except in the tips of my fingers. My husband is the outspoken one. He sells saliva for a living. Kept a fancy roof and luxury foods in our lives. Me? I barely spoke 10 words a day. Most of it screaming at my children. I believe that is one of the attraction my husband sees in me. He spends all day talking, comes home to me not saying a single word. But I know it gets lonely sometimes. All the time because there's no communication between the two of us. No topic other than his work or the kids. Where about my life? My interests? My desire? 

We used to date in museums, went to the beach where we first met, bus travels and movie dates. I miss those. Now he does that and more with his friends or for work. Whereas I, am at home with the kids. I'll say I am stuck. But I chose to stay because I'm dependable towards them. I feel that they need me and my presence. Eventhough I am somewhat invisible. But its not fair for them to have me as a wanderer of heart. They deserve my presence in full. But how can I when I suffers a static heart? A longing heart to travel, and see the world? Whats more beyond these four walls? I grew up wanting to go to Europe and learn their history, to every beach in Malaysia and its neighbours, even museums in each city here in Malaysia. BUT, like growing up, just a wanderer of hearts, limited by imaginations. I grew up going to schools and doing homework over and over again, just to live washing dishes and dirty diapers, cleaning up and folding clothes over and over again. 

I am a wanderer of hearts, limited by its imagination. When can I break free? And really travel the world?

Childhood Trauma,

Looking back, there are people that comes and goes in ones life. Mine a few. As an extreme introvert for which I had fallen into since that hell hole of a place I called SMK Tasik Puteri, I have lost all my socially best self into a survival mode. A mode I find myself still trapped in today. As I remember, if I was to survive from being the victim of bully in that school, I have to seek shelter from behind a shoulder of a man. A masculine figure for which bullies are afraid of. Fortunate for me, I have the power to choose and un-choose whom I want. But when you enter the life of marriage, you don't have that privilege. Now that I realise, seeking shelter is all I ever known. As everyone around me sees me as weak and unprotected. And I carried that image until today. That's one. Another new personality I have developed there is how dull and unimportant I am in a group of women. A girl friend, a girl bestfriend is an unfamiliar vocabulary for me. Such unfortunate things happens when I do have a girl friend. So I am well off with no true girl friends at all in my school years, my college years. As of today, zero friends in my marriage years. Here lies (dies) my social life. The tragic implication of what I called childhood trauma from those only 2 years of schooling there. But somehow impacted my whole life. 

I hope my daughter don't have to hide behind a man to feel safe. I hope she knows she has the power to choose to be bigger herself than I ever was. I hope I could advice her that option, as no one did to me. I hope my son protects and cherish a woman that is in his care. I hope he hears her as he has chosen her to protect. I hope he protect her with all his heart.