Overthinking by the Sea

Sitting alone, in my car, by the sea:

Did I overreact? Or did he? 

Sitting alone, in my car, by the sea:

Thinking whether I should be upset with my friends? Or find a reason not to be?

Sitting alone, in my car, by the sea:

Is my mom upset with me? I left her all alone in the kitchen, preparing lunch for the family while I go out to have coffee?

Sitting alone, in my car, by the sea:

Why do I go silent when we quarrel? My brain automatically switches off and no signal transmission to feel?

Sitting alone, in my car, by the sea:

But I am upset with my friends. I asked for help and no one replied. Maybe I'm overreacting. Maybe this was intended to be.

Sitting alone, in my car, by the sea:

What a beautiful day it is today. Car window half cracked open, breeze coming through, sun shining so warmly on the left half of my face, making me want to dissappear into the vastness of the sea.

Sitting alone, in my car, by the sea:

Why did he react so strongly? We just got up and left? Was is it worth to ruin a beautiful day unnecessarily?

Sitting alone, in my car, by the sea:

I wish I could just mute my brain for a few minutes. Not think of anything. Not worry about anything. Not feel anything but the joy and beauty of the view infront of me.

Sitting alone, in my car, by the sea:

Will he be reading this anytime soon? And when he does? What will he think about today and the silent quarrel between him and me? 

Sitting alone, in my car and overthinking by the sea; tomorrow, a new day. Tomorrow, new worries to think of; tomorrow, a new me.

My poor me

This poor heart and all the hurt it sustained
...
This poor brain and all the memories that remain...
This poor body and how much it has been drained...
This poor soul, remains tormented but strives to rise above all the pain...

من امثالنا الشعبية...

مشيت للبحر نشكي من كبر هبالي .. حتى البحر وخّر ووجعه حالي

A New Year Resolution

I want to have so much fun that checking my phone and being online are the last thing on my mind...

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. 

من امثالنا الشعبية...

الصاحب اللي ما تلقاه وقت الشدة قوله خير من بعيد تسده ...

Libyans & FB!

I don't understand how Libyans use Facebook... (warning, this is one of my 'see more' posts)

Here is a great space for people to connect, keep in touch, be as real as cyber space would permit, but I more often than not find more fake names than real ones, find people showering their so called 'friends' with fake pleasantries and a lottaaa love Bob Marley wouldn't have been able to handle!

Then the other fun aspect about the Libyan 'Face', as it is so popularly shortened, why oh why do they love impersonating other people's profiles? Starting from the name to the picture!

Did your 'friends' finally figure out that Booboo Kookoo Moomoo Libya with Beyoncé as a profile picture is not real?! Oh MY! The horror!

But that's not just it...although identity theft is not a matter to be taken lightly (Melissa McCarthy definitely did make sure to take it to the next level), this is not the only thing that is putting me off Facebook lately... no, uh uh... it starts from here, but it avalanches to much more...

The news, the Facebook pages, the groups, the silly adds on the side bar, the applications, Oui, all of it!

Let's take Libyan news pages for instance; have you noticed how they always manage to have gasoline ready to light one hell of a fire? Here I am, a regular Libyan citizen, browsing through some pages, and suddenly, I see عــــاجل, in big bright red large font!

Initial reaction, yalaaahwee, shinu fee tawa! then friends start sharing بعجالة, as well, and in the span of a few hours, your newsfeed gets spammed with a piece of news that not only is it fictitious, but also silly!

My new reaction to عــــاجل is 'Hide Post' or is it 'I do not want to see this' now?!

Joking aside though, I am deeply troubled at said news sharing phenomena.

This powerful tool, that so many news experts and analysts attribute the spark of the Arab spring to, is now erupting chaos, spreading rumors and lies, defaming good people’s reputation, and the list goes on…

I am sick of saying ‘we need to do something about it’ because if anything those past couple of years have taught us, very little can be done (and no, I am not a pessimist, I am a realist), but it still won’t hurt to blurb into cyber space…who knows, maybe one of my status will catch fire one of those days and a ripple effect will be created… who knows…one can only hope, that’s still for free!

لك الله يا ليبيا ...

من سنتين كانت الناس تردد سرا وقت الاحداث بعبارات جميلة، ترد الروح لاي شخص مشكك في الثورة او في اسباب 'اندلاعها' ، منها:

 ' قولوا لمعمر و عيالاه، ليبيا فيه رجالة'

كانت الناس تتسابق بدون اجندات على حفظ نشيد 'يا بلادي' دافعا منها لزيادة شعلة الثورة ولتعزيز روح الاخوة فيما بيننا...

لليوم، لا زال المقطع التالي من النشيد هو الذي يلخص شعوري نحو بلدي الذي لم يهنىء بعد من ايام تخلوا منها سفك دماء الاحرار...

 'واسلمي، واسلمي، واسلمي'

 لك الله يا ليبيا...



Hahaha

So much depth behind this picture! LOL and a whole lot of "hahahaha's"!

 

Facebook Rehab?

Facebook is so addictive. I find myself wanting to share very private thoughts, but stopping last minute to realize that FB is not marbu3et 7ushna (living room).

I often wonder whether our need to update our circle of friends, which is mixed with the close, the distant and the undefined, stems for our need for attention?

How many of us get excited for the mere fact of getting a double digit # of comments on a status update telling everyone we know 'whats on our mind' or on something we shared?

What is the hunger that FB satisfies in us?
 

Cycle Ride for Charity Donations

Dear all,

My friends' daughters are undertaking a lengthy cycle ride for three charities that have personal significance for them. Their target is to raise GBP 1,000 each - GBP 3,000 overall.

Any donation would be sincerely appreciated - see link and information on charities below.

Also, please feel free to share amongst your friends and family!





• Moorfields Eye Charity - supports one of the World's leading eye hospitals which undertakes much work in Africa restoring sight for thousands.

• The Alzheimer's Society  - which supports suffers and carers, as well as research into this debilitating illness.

• War Child  - which supports all children impacted by wars around the globe.

http://www.justgiving.com/teams/kent-girls

Dissapointment, hello, we meet again...

So much to let out... But where do I begin? Where do I start?

28 years and still learning lessons, I want to graduate or simply flunk out of life's horrible sessions...

Sometimes you wonder, will you ever 'know it all', will you ever be 'wise' and maybe detect a lie before it manifests into a yet, another failed lesson?

What happens when you no longer fail or wail over your mishappens?

Do you isolate yourself or keep a straight face in front of those ugly reminders that will never hear a confession?

So much will remain untold, but sometimes silence can be one of life's best potions...

The evil of a woman...

Nothing makes me see red or taste vile in my mouth like the idea of a woman bringing another woman down!

Unless you are a rapist or murderer, I can't see the logic behind it!

Jealous? Because you can't find valid excuses to cover up your failures?

Or don't have the courage to swim against the tide so you 'drop your anchor' and join forces with the 'others'?

If you think I'm wrong and we can't see eye to eye, fair enough, but why not look the other way instead of making me blind?

They say empty pots makes louder noise! And boy do you know how to gather a crowd!

If YOU are bringing me down tonight, who do you think tomorrow will be pulling YOU out?

*Note: above words are not a reflection of a personally related event.

من امثالنا الشعبية...

اللى واخد على طعامك وين يشبحك يجوع

Hope? Where have you gone?

You know that moment that when you have so much to say but no words to describe them...

Im speechless...

Do I blame the government? That only governs how much money we're worth today?

Or do I blame the people? Who put a price tag to be displayed?

Or do I forget the blame, the pain and all the anger that my body can no longer contain?

And yet, after digging those words from deep within, I feel helpless and remain speechless...and somewhat hopeless...

ان لله و ان اليه راجعون    

من امثالنا الشعبية...

قليل الأصل ما تنفع معاه المليحة ،، لو كان اتديرله في قلب السماء درجيحة...