Friday, October 29, 2010

Part 2: Confrontations with life

(If you haven't read the beginning. Here is the link of a post I made in September)

In an instant, my perspective changed and as I looked around my room I saw the place I had felt so safe in before be a place that was anything but. The music stirred up repulsive ideas in my head that were constantly being played on repeat. The clothes on the floor were dancing around pathetically, the same ones that I worked so hard for and took extra shifts just so I could fit in with the groups in school. And the photos lay scattered on the floor, pictures of boys, memories of hurt, of pressure, and of violation. I saw the worst before me and hated every part of it. It was almost like a break up, where all I felt like doing was ripping up my wasted time. The pleasure I would get if I could only tear away at the pages of my adolescence, and then burn up any left remains.

Instead, I packed slowly, going through each regret and by the time I finished, my heart was ready but my mouth stayed shut. I knew that the clock was ticking inside of my suitcase but I just couldn't make out the words and silence never gave me a good opportunity to speak. It seemed like it was never the right time or the right moment, so I kept my mouth shut until the day the phone rang. I knew that the voice on the other end was about open up my can of worms and actually, I was glad it wouldn't be me. I was better off, safer even, in the horrors of my thoughts.

I listened to the muffled voices and then the click of the receiver. I heard every creak in the steps as my mother walked up the stairs. And for the first time ever I was more scared then I have ever been. I was up against myself and my pride. Because actually, perfection, was something I tried hard to be. I had to, perfection was the only thing my parents could accept at this time. But the walls were about to come down when that door would open, and I would have to come face to face with disappointment.

The handle turned, just as predicted and the lion broke loose in the room. It was gnawing at me, chewing on every piece of disbelief and then spitting it back at me. Without intention, I froze like a prey anticipating its defeat. Wondering when the time of death would strike me. Sooner was better. Silence was better. A sad face was better, better for the heart I heard. And as I sat there on my bed, strangled by fear, I realized something in between my mother's words.

Perfection was not mine to have, it was grace. Perfection was not made for me, completion was. And I was not made to meet human expectations but fall short of them. I was made for grace. For mercy. For selflessness. So, right there in the middle of the battle I experienced a failure that was accepted without blame.

From that moment on a new strength was born. I decided that even though I was in a bit of a human heap I did not want my circumstances to push me down. Rejection seemed only temporary because I believed that the truth always had a way of coming out. That right had a way of being rewarded, and that purpose had a way of fulfilling promise. I realize now, that it was the security that saved me. It would need to, and soon, because my plane was about to land with a whole new set of problems.

I was told that in my culture women are regarded as women of influence. They are the ones who establish the rules for the weaker, sexual male who thinks about it a million times a day. We had responsibilities to keep. Pressure to concur and sexual drive to hold under control. So, to say the least, I had a whole lot of blame coming my way that was about to challenge just what I believed myself to be.

As expected, it was hurtful and I can still remember the comments that tore me to shreds. The eyes that looked me straight in the face and told me that I was undeserving. The conversations of misunderstanding that followed moments of complete abandonment. It was in those kind of moments that I could almost feel the grip of God holding me back, when everything in my body wanted to attack right back.

This needed to happen no matter how much I would have loved to ignore it. But family was important to us. Marriage was important to us and we wanted to convey God's dedication to us, by dedicating ourselves to each other. His love and His promises, meant something significant to us as we promised to be there for one another. And then when things would get tough we would know just how to forgive time and time again, because we had been forgiven. Because in the end, it would be our relationship with Him that would show us how to have a relationship with each other.

Relying completely on God, we got married the sixth of October. Just a few days after I had turned 18. I wore a simple dress together with my prom shoes. Which in turn, reminded me so much of the past summer where my biggest problem had been my best friends crush on me. Remembering my past relationships, I hoped that the man I just married was the one I truly loved. And then, as I swayed to the rhythm of the day, in the perfect crisp air of autumn I liked the comfort I had in relying on my husbands magic. He was the one that believed in love at first sight, in soul mates, and miracles. His love for me, together with God's grace, seemed promising in comparison to anything else.

Lord, Please. Please I prayed, hold us together on the path that you have set before us. Help us be stronger and more fierce than what the world offers or what the enemy will hold in his hands. May we always rise above the influence and no longer fall into temptation. Instead, during our faithful walk would you bring wisdom and understanding to our actions and persistence in our minds. Help us always fight the fight for what is right.

I felt peaceful at last, almost like everything was in its place for the first time in months.


  1. I'm sobbing like a baby, yet I want to wear a BIG smile on my face. Cant wait for part 3! Thank you for this post, Nadia.

  2. Beautifully written and so touching. I think you have a memoir on your hands. You should consider writing it ;)