Simplicity is Beauty

Progressing through life without anyone asking you the details was the norm and comfortable. After moving to a new city and meeting new people, I had to open up more to build relationships instead of banking on the experiences and our childhoods together. “What’s it like in your city? What do you like to do for fun? instead of being asked “Hey lets go to so and so and do such and such.” 

Not that I’m meeting new people and learning about this whole new way of life, its thrown me into a whirlwind of not knowing what my future holds because I keep getting asked about what Im doing and where Im going with it instead of people I’ve known my whole life knowing Ill get it done--whatever it is.

Perhaps I simply dont enjoy having my reality shown to me. That not knowing makes me freak and now Im complaining about things being simple and going back to how they once were. 

Overwhelmed is an understatement right now. I'm not sure if I'm feeling this way because of my own shortcomings or if my feelings are justified.

Whenever I open up to those who I am meant to feel the most safe around, I get the most pushback. I'm told that the way I see things are wrong. Im told that the things done or said to me arent supposed to make me feel a certain way. Well, sure maybe. But then how am I supposed to feel when hurt? What am I supposed to say? Do?

Discussing how I feel has always been so difficult for me. Opening up to anyone is done with a shaky voice. It stems from some sort of trust issue that needs some work. A lot of it has to do with the constant hostility or frustration met when I do discuss something that pains me. A lot of it has to do with the dismissive positivity I'm met with. A lot of it has to do with being put down more so for feeling some type of way.

Its been quite the while since I’ve been here. Life has been beautiful, crazy, unexpected, and every other word I can possibly think of. A lot has happened, some good, some bad. But all of it, of course, for the better. 

Along with being a sister, a friend, a daughter, a aunt, I became someone’s wife. Omair and I had our nikkah in May and I can now be one of those people who says they’ve married their best friend. 

I moved out to Arizona with Omair in July. July 4th specifically. My independence was officially gone. Just kidding. But I packed up all my stuff and left my parents’ roof for the first time ever in my life. I should be surprised at how naturally I fit into a new home, new state, new city, but I’ve always been told how easily I could adapt. The thought of missing home and wanting to go back only made me cry once, and that was just the first day after reading a thank you/goodbye note from a really good friend. Arizona itself is bland, ugly, and republican. If you want to save a lot of money then sure, move to there. But your sanity and the view of the beaches is more important.

I’ve learned that cooking is difficult and easy at the same time, depending on what kinda of cuisine. White people food is the easiest because they all say to use salt, pepper, cayenne pepper, and some other ‘exotic’ spice. Pakistani food i probably the most difficult for me. Sure there are recipes and youy follow them. But my mother’s voice will keep popping up in my head: “aik chamcha yeh, andazay say namak, thora sa yeh” And the fact that my mother never used measuring tools stressed me out. 

Cats have become the love of my life. Our roomate brought home a baby kitten who was smuggled over the Mexican border. I loved her, and she hated me. But that never stopped me from wanting to snuggle the hell out of her until she got so pissed off. 

We’re back in San Diego now because Omair is doing his Pharmacy rotations here. I am so happy to be back. Also feels weird to be back on Tumblr. I need an avenue to vent and its either this or maybe a journal. So yeah maybe a journal. 

I’ve had the privilege of not having someone immediately close to me pass away. I feel truly honored to not have felt the grief my parents and some of my friends have. To not have felt completely numb when someone break the news to you.

My aunt, May Allah grant her paradise, passed away a couple hours ago. There was a lot of uncertainty, a lot of built of mourning during the last two months of her being hospitalized. The feeling of hope and dilusional. The ups and downs of her coming home and once again being in the hospital.

My mom spent the last two months trying to get her passport made, her visa papers organized, and finally booking a ticket to get to my aunt in her last days. My aunt got tranferred to a hospital in Pakistan the night my mom finally got to see her for a couple hours in Dubai. A couple days later my aunt passed away. My mom could have easily flown to Pakistan right away, she could have booked a ticket at a different time, she could of has her passport ready to go--all these things could have been in place but my mom could have still not be able to see my aunt. I can’t help but think that everything happens for a reason.

I promise myself every April 13th that I’m going to be better, and every April 13th I think, “wow I did a lot of stupid shit this past year.” Nothing has changed. I’ve made miserable mistakes this past year, all due to unforgivable selfishness. I’ve hurt those I promised I never would, I consumed myself in things I promised I would never consider, and I’ve prioritized those that should never even make it to the list. 

But, alhamdulillah. Even through mistakes I find myself being grateful. If there’s one way to realize what you need to fix, its through your own stupidity. 

I used to wake up in the morning and feel so good about myself. Every morning I would go to school, know who I am and what I stand for. I would know I’m helping the world by all the various organizations I was a part of. My heart and my mind were sound. My conviction in my beliefs were solid.

And here I am today, only three years later from the last day I woke up feeling that way. Days have gone by without understanding how I got to where I am. But I sit here knowing the who, what, where, and when of everything. And the only person to blame for anything and everything that’s lead up to who I am, here and now, is myself.

I’ve pulled so much shit over the last couple years. And I would always put it under the file of me learning more about myself, thinking, “Hey, I’ve been so sheltered my entire life, me doing this or that is simply me learning more about who I am and learning more about who I and and can be. It’s all going to be okay because how I feel now is better than okay.”