The Best Way I know How.
There's a truth to the saying that lessons repeat until they're learned. Today, I faced such a lesson again.
Over the past few years, I've actively focused on personal growth. I devoured books, discovered hidden talents, met new people, explored uncharted roads solo, and the list goes on. All roads led to one answer:
I am keeping my options open.
This open-minded approach allows me to learn through experience and express myself authentically. At the young age of 12, I fell into a deep depression following a life-altering incident. This event, though etched on my soul, ultimately led me to become the writer I am today, Alhamdulillah.
Back then, I lacked understanding and trust in Allah. My mind was consumed by anger and confusion. I didn't grasp the purpose behind the trials Allah placed before me or the lessons they held.
Depression became a close companion. Though never contemplating suicide, I endured constant bullying and ostracization. I felt like a misfit, adrift in a world where I couldn't find my place.
While my young life is filled with countless stories, the year I turned 12 marks a pivotal moment of transformation. Driven by sadness and a desire to be understood, I embarked on writing a book. I believed that by sharing the truth of my experience, I could clear my name and expose the hurt inflicted upon me.
Today, I realize that despite the pain, my roots remained firmly grounded, nourished by love and light. Had I understood this then, perhaps I wouldn't have harbored hatred towards those who caused me pain. Instead, I would have embraced the strength that blossomed from within.
It was this journey that led me to become a poet. Inspired by the works of Abdul-Whab Al-Bayati, whose words resonated deeply with my emotions, I began pouring my heart onto paper. One such poem, inspired by his writing, reflects my inner turmoil:
This poem captures the essence of my struggle and growth. It's a testament to the transformative power of art and the unwavering strength that lies within us all.
Today, I look back at my past not with resentment, but with gratitude for the lessons it taught me. Those challenges sculpted me into the person I am today, guiding me towards my passion and helping me discover the poet within.
My journey continues, and I embrace the unknown with open arms. As I keep my options open, I am confident that every step, every experience, will lead me closer to my true purpose, Alhamdulillah.
ميّتة وحيّة
قصيدة على ضريح، حكمة قديمة
قافية يتيمة
صفصافة عارية الأوراق
تبكي على الفرات!
Abdul Wahab's poetry sparked a profound sense of vitality within me, despite his recurrent themes of death and sacrifice. Surprisingly, it awakened my curiosity about comprehending the concept of mortality. It might sound unconventional, but through his verses, I found solace amidst the pain caused by my depression, which pushed me towards excessive sleep, stress (a sensation I didn't grasp back then), reduced appetite, eventually leading to becoming an IBS patient (Irritable Bowel Syndrome).
However, I've come to terms with it now. Today, I've realized that I am one of the most expressive individuals I've encountered. I articulate my emotions through words, speech, writing, or any tangible medium available to reach out to others who share similar experiences. I am not alone, and neither are they.
Yet, for the first time, I found myself remorseful for being true to myself. When I expressed myself in the most authentic way, I faced unwarranted attacks that pierced my soul. I advocated fiercely for someone I deeply cared about, only to be met with harsh criticism.
At the tender age of 12, I was labelled with vile epithets - 'bad', 'bitch', 'prostitute', 'hooker' – every possible insult hurled at me. So why, after all this time, would anything still hurt me? Why would people judge me for expressing my thoughts and feelings? Why would defending my honor provoke such malicious responses? I have every right to be enraged, to feel anger, fear, or any other emotion; after all, it's an intrinsic aspect of being human.
I felt a profound sadness, an urge to cry, but I swallowed it down, carrying on with my day as if nothing had happened. It's 1 AM now, and the pain is still raw...
I rose, performed my ablutions, and prayed, seeking forgiveness from Allah for my sins. I pleaded for forgiveness from myself, reassuring that it's alright to be me. I am certain that, despite my attempts to console myself, no one else would have the audacity to stand up for me as resolutely as I did for myself.
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