Assalam Aleykum Warahmatullahy Wabarakatuh
Yesterday night was bae, I lay in bed contemplating on life’s strange ways, completely oblivious of the rest of the world. The fairy lights hanging on my walls along with SZA’s new album CTRL provided the perfect ambiance for me to get perfectly intimate with my feelings. And so as a result, yesterday’s dishes are comfortably sitted in the kitchen sink and counter, glaring at me condescendingly as they normally do. But at this point in time, I don’t really care as much. I don’t want to care as much about
people the dishes and their
need to constantly judge my inability to handle…well…adulting. I’m slowly
coming to terms with the fact that the dishes can patiently await their bath
time as I do much more important things like update my blog, and get in touch
with my virtual friends.
July was quite the tumultuous month for me. Emotionally, I’ve been quite volatile and uneasy, stemming from the fact that I simply couldn’t seem to get it together. Like I’ve said before, the dynamics of my life have definitely changed; which isn’t anything out of the ordinary because life is a story of evolution. If there’s anything constant about it it’s that it’s always changing; which may well be obvious but what a weighty matter for me to grasp. My realization is that as much as I anticipate change, I expect it to arrive gradually and gracefully where I’m able to let it land on my worn out fingers like a pretty fluttering butterfly on a warm sunny day. However when I snap back to reality, it dawns on me that change is more often drastic, inelegant and clumsy.
I think that’s why I lack in the hospitality department. I don’t entirely hate the idea of entertaining guests; in fact I could even say I highly enjoy it. But only a few a time and it has to be premeditated, in the sense that I was informed prior to the arrival of the guests, so that I can prepare, mentally and…well mostly mentally. But I guess lately I’ve been learning that the world isn’t going to come to an end if the dishes are comfortably sitted in the sink waiting. The world isn’t on fire if the food you cooked turned out too salty or didn’t even turn out at all and thus you had to throw it all out. Life goes on even after embarrassing moments like unexpected guests walking into an abyss of unorganized and messy glory. Such is life, stop trying to control every second of it and make everything so perfect. Stop trying to be so perfect; Stop letting every single thing that goes wrong turn you into an explosive, unpredictable beast. Learn to chill out.
My mom keeps dishing out these tablets of wisdom (very hard to swallow) every time I mess shit up, which happens more often than I would want to admit, unintentionally of course. What’s astonishing is how it always adds up to what a failure of a wife I’m going to be. And to be honest, this hurts me to the depths of my soul, partly because some part of me feels like her words are spot on. I mean, my mom managed to raise two kids by herself, build a house, send those kids to great schools, always put food on the table and all the while make it look like a walk in the park. And did I mention that she still wakes up early as hell, cooks and cleans and still has time to chill I MEAN COME ONNNNN!!!Meanwhile here I am looking like a hot damn mess. Ugh.
Simultaneously, the other part of me feels that the reason I feel so hurt by her words is that I feel utterly betrayed by them. I feel like I just sincerely vented for hours to my best friend about how exhausted I am and she simply retorted with a ‘get over it.’ Because I honestly feel like I work extremely hard, only for all my efforts to be completely disregarded. Giving my all at work, at home and still trying to maintain my loves of blogging and Youtube at the same time find time for a social life, self care and not forgetting sleep? It’s exhausting and not to mention extremely overwhelming having to constantly convince yourself that yes, you
will do amount to something, you are
working your ass off and hell yeah you’ll make one hell of a wife. As
tempestuous and ungraceful as you are, you are worth it and you will
find someone who appreciates that.
For the longest time, I was so resentful towards my mom for making me feel so inadequate and even more resentful towards myself because a part of me felt it to be true. So there I was lashing out at every living creature that dare look my way, stressed out of my mind as if the world would come to an end if I just accepted that you know what, I’m not my mum. I’m not that girl who has their shit together every second of everyday. Hell maybe I’m not even as strong as the average female but that’s ok, because that’s me, that’s my pace, that’s my healthy state of mind. And so if I need to take a day or two to find my way or catch my breath, that’s freaking ok, we all need to do what we need to do. And guess what? The world will keep on moving just like it aways does, even when the dishes are perfectly dumped in the sink, and life isn’t as perfect as we wanted it to be. In any case, perfection is overrated.