I look at you, I look at me

I look at you
I look at me
And think of all the dreams that could have been

I look at you
I look at me
And say goodbye to all the things that made me leave

I look at you
I look at me
As we part ways and move on to a future I can't forsee

I look at you
I look at me
One last time before I say, bye bye baby, it breaks my heart that we could never be...

When a Woman Loves a Man

Michael Bolton sings, 

When a man loves a woman, 
He'd trade the world, 
For a good thing he's found

But, no one is singing about when a woman loves a man...How she would turn her whole life around...

People often say that love, and relationships require 'compromise' ... and it is always unofficially and silently insinuated that the woman will be the one compromising...

And it got me thinking... 

When a woman loves a man, she inherently compromises on her own being...she no longer belongs to herself, but to 'him'... I am not sure if it is society, novels, movies or media in general that has ingrained this notion and definition in every love-stricken girl...but wanting to 'belong to him', to be 'his' is what we all dreamed of at one point of our lives...and damn does it make you want to scream for joy when he utters those three almost lethal words 'you are mine' ... 


But what does that say about me? about every girl that was someone's 'belonging'? A part of me sees the romance in this self centred possessive love...a part of me relates...a part of me also wants to belong to feel 'complete'...

But on the other hand...another part of me is repulsed by the idea that I belong to a man...that a man thinks my being, my love, my feelings are part of his life inheritance...a part of me wants to scream and say 'go to hell you misogynist' ... 

And here I am stuck...between, well, me, myself and I... 

Not knowing which side I should be on...

My brain says NO, but my heart says YES

My brain says, you are complete, you belong to yourself, you do not need a man to complete you...

My heart says, ohhh, how romantic...how sexy that he wants me to be his...

And here I am, stuck again...between me, myself and I...

And, it got me thinking again...

In an effort to please my heart, my brain compromises... and in an effort to please my brain, my heart compromises... and where do I stand? No neutral ground on this one...but if anything...when a woman loves a man...she un loves what she loves for him, and learns to love what he hates for him... Hell she even adopts his culture and changes her religion for him... 

So when a woman truly loves a man. .. she not only compromises, but she looses both, her heart and her brain to 'him'...

'Instagram Happiness'

I found myself browsing through my Instagram feed and smiling profusely at a friend's pictures with her partner away on vacation.

Beautiful selfies, portraying undevoted love. Image after image of smiles, hugs and doting looks. And I smiled, and smiled, and then smiled some more.

But at the end of this beautiful picturesque journey, I noticed that there was a pang in my heart. I noticed this uneasy feeling that dare I admit to myself? Can I be THAT person? Can I really be that petty and be envious of their happiness?

I found myself pitying myself and reflecting on my relationship with my partner. And whether I liked to admit it or not, a part of me wanted that raw declaration of love.

Not just the declaration, but I craved to be in that state of happiness, that state of peace in my relationship. I craved for the easy days, where the only worry I had was choosing which picture I had to post on my Instagram.

I know, I sound silly, immature even, for reflecting on my life on the sole basis of someone else's 'Instagram Happiness'. But the sad part of the story is that I never had that. I skipped immature and silly by force, not by choice. I dived, head first in uneasy waves of difficulties, and while I not only survived the storms, but came out stronger, I can't help but notice lately, that I am left with a big void in my life that was deprived, of that silly and immature force of happiness.

So now, I sit and I reflect on my life, on what is missing, on what needs fixing. Why? All because I deprived my self the right to feel to avoid my feelings. And now, my friend's innocent display of happiness on Instagram triggered a wave of emotions and insecurities, that I thought I had long buried, that I thought were long forgotten.

So now, I am on a quest, to finding me again. To finding my inner peace. To finding my inner happiness. And yes, it is cheesy and it is all so very cliché, but that's my new and sole mission, calling it, The Rediscovery of Haneen.
 

I cry in the early hours of the morning

I cry, in the early hours of the morning,
before I put my make-up on

I cry so early, because I don't want to answer
the 'why' and the 'what's wrong'

I cry so early, because I don't want anyone to see my puffy eyes, clown-y nose or for them to hear my sobs

I cry so early, because I don't always have the energy to mask a happy face and be 'so strong'

I cry so early, because I don't want anyone to share my sorrow, my wallowing or see me so undone

I cry so early, because I don't want anyone to see me broken and feeling sorry for myself for not wanting to go on

I cry so early, because I am feeling so lost and hurting all alone

I cry so early, because it helps me let go of some of the pain, start a new day and 'move on'

I cry, in the early hours of the morning, because at the end, everything will be okay, I will have to be strong, I will eventually move on

I’m a Woman, and you are?

I've always believed that as a woman, I can do whatever I want and should be able to do whatever I want, whenever I want, however I want . Now what society says and the hurdles it throws in my face is another redundant story. 

This belief has been further rooted after having my baby, the apple of my eyes, Ghassan. 

The amount of pain: physical and emotional, absurd amounts of lack of sleep (while being in pain mind you), the incredible never ending list of new responsibilities that no book, movie or the past 30 years of my life could've prepared me for all coming to life when I heard Ghassan's first cry was and is testament to that. 

If only all of us know our worth, the world would be a different place in its entirety. 

We are God's wonderful blend of a creation.

We are Women and We Can Do Whatever We Want.