Mi crisis emocional

Break VS. Break up… The enternal question that all women — but usually none of the men — think about.

A month after asking for a break with my long-term boyfriend, it has become evident that it is not getting better. The reason I asked for a break in the first place was to “find myself.” Lame you might say. But it is the aftermath of my break [up] is my main concern.

“Keep yourself busy,” I tell myself. Well, sounds pretty easy. But as with everything else, the execution seems to be something alien to me.

First, let’s set the record straight. I am not the kind of girl who stays home, crying for days on end, lamenting her luck. I am a busy woman. But as life goes, every “busy woman” ends up having some time for herself. 

Ironically, it’s not something that is desired in this particular case.

Amid my confusion, I noticed how far I’ve drifted from most people I care about, how everyone is so self-absored and  how people only tend to notice these things when they are unhappy, alone and need comforting. (This only proves my theory that humans are vile creatures.)

Today, I realized that the person I feel the closest to (who resides in Singapore) did not text or call me, not once, after my break [up]. Naturally, that made me upset. As women, we need to vent emotionally, regardless of how many hours we spend working or working out, in our pathetic attempt to forget our concerns and banish our thoughts.

And if in the age of communications people seem unable to keep in touch, then should we just become emotionally self-sufficient creatures? Or just rid ourselves of emotions altogether? Is this even possible?

I stumbled onto a Yeats poem “The Second Coming” today (as my Persian friend said — everything happens for a reason) and I fell in love with it.

>> Things fall apart, the centre cannot hold

>> The best lack all conviction, while the worst

>> Are full of passionate intensity.

I believe that this applies to numerous circumstances. I guess most of us fall somewhere in between, but currently, I’m leaning toward the worst. This is mi crisis emocional.

From Singapore to ziza..

So ziza has added me as admin to this blog for quite some time now, but I never managed to gather my words together and type down anything for the longest time – no matter how hard I felt I needed to do so.  I guess it has finally come, that urge to spill out my thoughts into this stream of cyber noise.

I’ve been living in Singapore for the past year and three months – can’t believe it’s been that long. Time flows in the tropics at it’s own pace with no season to mark any perception of time. It’s either rain or sunshine, day after day, everyday of the year.  Not that I am complaining, I am not a fan of cold weather nor winter fashion for that matter.  And I just noticed how lousy my writing style is.. eek!

In any case, I had a fall out with the bf this weekend, an after-shock of several preceding. This time it knocked down anything that was left in our relationship as we knew it – as in, since I moved to Singapore to live with him. It was Friday night, I had been out for industry drinks and had downed one pinte of beer in one go before I left the event to meet him for dinner. Over French food and good wine, he cornered me, oh so sly! and I confessed.

I had cheated on him.. he demanded for details I hid stuff, we left the restaurant and didn’t exchange any words for the next two days. Until Sunday, I came back from the Arabic class I give every morning. He was there, on the couch, looked me straight in the eye and said the plagued words – I’m breaking up with you.

…tbc

Estoy soltera?

So am I single? I have no idea.

Last night, I told the BF I need a break. I do not know if it’s a break up, or just a break. All I know is I need to be comfortable with me, before I am a WE. Or maybe that’s just an excuse. In my attempt to be honest, all I know for sure is how I feel. The rationalizing of the event will come later.

I know this sounds ridiculous. I’ve been with my BF for a year and a half up until last night. He’s been nothing but supportive, encouraging and understanding. I sometimes feel that I should meet him five years from now.

Not to go into the details, I felt a pang of sadness when he, as he always is, was understanding about my decision. He spent the night over, and woke me up to go to work.

While we are still on very good terms, my greatest fear is that he will be my biggest regret. And instead of my usual ranting about my “what-if boys,” he could very well be the one I got, but let go.

Funny enough, I didn’t really tell anyone about my decision. Not my sisters, not my friends or my flatmates. Only one of my friends knows, and she’s a continent away.

But I would be lying if I said there was no sense of relief. I am relieved. I feel like I’m free to do what I want, or pursue what I like. Even though the BF never forced me to do anything or stopped me from doing something.

And while you read this blog, it might seem that what I did was a stupid, rash decision. But what I feel is telling me something else. The anticipation and excitement of being on my own again, making my own decisions, and being pushed out of my comfort zone.

Yet, I know for a fact that it is only because of his understanding and patience that I am able to do what I did. He is still my best and closest friend.

I owe it to myself and to him to be happy. Otherwise, I will regret this. And that’s the most terrifying thing of all.

A thought…

لو كان قلبي معي ما أخترت غيركم

و لا رضيت سواكم في الهوى بدلا

لكنه رغيب في من يعذبه و ليس يقبل لا لوما و لا عدلا

Paris when it fizzles

So, I actually tried to research this entry before I started writing. But what I found on the net was horrific. Self-help on relationships that need some sexing up was just appalling.

In any case, I chose to write this as I am a person who is in a long-term relationship. It’s not always rosy, and sometimes, even when everything is working out smoothly, it is just plain boring.

One thing I have never regretted is calling it quits when my heart (and this will sound lame) tells me that there’s something wrong. However, I also noticed that the older a person gets, the harder it is to listen to your heart.

Things like status, money, and social security are only a few of the issues that come to mind. I’m not saying that loving the other person becomes obsolete, but other considerations weigh on you when you’re thinking about taking a break or telling your partner you want to break up.

Perhaps the worst case scenario is when your partner is a genuinely decent person. Thoughts of never being able to find a guy as good as him, who cares as much or who would help you out in your time of need are ever-present.

But I am a firm believer that any well-thought out change will be for the better… eventually. The process will be very difficult, but usually, in retrospect, you will know that you took the right decision.

Since we’re talking about change and/or the fear of change, it seems only natural that we talk about the process of taking decisions.

You need to know that at any given time, you have an X amount of options that you can choose from. Never regret something you did after a well-thought out process. The fact is,  what is available now, was not available then.

So do not hate yourself if something you have always desired happened after you quit the relationship/job/school… etc. In reality, you probably quit BECAUSE your relationship/job/school did not give you what you wanted.

Always remember that choosing the best available option at any given point will spare you a lot of regret and angst. However, stupid and rash decisions will leave you wondering.

The bottom line is this: being unhappy will not magically disappear, unless you make some changes. They could include you working on your relationship or perhaps ending it.

 And as Rumi said: “Do not grieve. Anything you lose comes round in another form.”

On office politics

Because of the high demand from my readers (a total of two people) I have decided to come back with a topic that I have personally been suffering lately: office politics.

The idea that it’s work is not that appealing. Yes, it’s work. It’s a 9 – 5 job (or with some flexible hours if you’re lucky) and whether or not you like it, you will always clash with some people at the office. It could be your boss, a co-worker, or the cleaning lady.

Confrontation is never the solution.

First: It is a job. You’re young, and you know this will not be the job you’ll have for the rest of your life. Choose your battles. Let some things slide. Count to ten, or just walk out of the room if you are prone to having office rage. Throwing shoes at your nemesis is never a good image to project.

However, should you feel uncomfortable, unappreciated or simply humiliated, then think things through BEFORE taking action. Write yourself an e-mail of what you plan to say and how you plan to say it. You might figure out that it’s not worth your time to even address the issue.

Second: Sometimes, you will discover, as office gossip travels light years in a matter of seconds, that you have been rude, harsh, or brutally honest with someone. So, if a co-worker suddenly starts acting up when you’re around, take a step back and (if possible try to self-evaluate your recent behavior.) It, of course, remains preferable that you apologize.

Third: After having a couple of jobs of my own, one of which was quite appalling, being seasoned in office politics is always a good thing.

General rules to surviving the office:

-always attempt to establish a professional work relationship with your co-workers before you make friends at the office

-never share personal information, were it your relationship or your financial status, unless you’re 100% sure of that person. Experience taught me you can NEVER be 100% sure.

-always remain composed with your supervisor and/or boss. Drinks after work necessitate you DO NOT get drunk and/or bitch your co-workers, no matter how much you despise them. Bosses tend to fish for gossip to get a feel for what’s going on in the office. Beware.

-be diplomatic. It doesn’t matter what the issue is, it all comes down to how you handle things. Composure, composure, composure. You can always go to the bathroom and vent there.

And finally, never, EVER diss the boss.

What goes around, comes around.

Marriage Fever

It’s the season, right? Apparently, it is!

Recently, a friend of mine got married, and no, it wasn’t the fairy tale wedding every girl dreams of. I don’t even think it was her fairy tale wedding.

It seems as if everyone I know is getting either engaged or married. For some reason, people are suffering what I have come to call “Marriage Fever.” I still do not know how to explain it. I even caught myself looking at engagement rings and wedding dresses on a slow day at work. I had to consciously stop myself. The only good (perhaps) that came out of it was I know a lot more about diamonds now. Cut, color, prices, gradient. The whole shebang.

This phenomenon, of course, was a bit terrifying to the boyfriend. He managed to hide it well, but still, I found the best way to deal with it is to open a new folder for all my pictures of dresses, venues and rings instead of telling him what I found/liked.

Funny enough, after trying to dissect my recent tendencies toward Marriage Fever, I found that I mostly feel as if I am lagging behind. The fact that I have a long-term boyfriend seemed to add to my marriage anxiety.

Another friend of mine, who is also in a long-term relationship, agreed that as a woman, and as our shared upbringing taught us, we are feeling as if our clocks are ticking away. We’re only getting older (as my birthday was less than a week ago) and we’re discovering our “need”  — if such a thing exists– to settle down.

On one hand, we have all these grand plans to work and live abroad, to built a successful career, and to attain the lifestyle we’ve always hungered for. Yet, we feel as if we should follow that little voice in our heads that says “conform”: Find a “suitable” husband, get married, settle down and have kids.

Our shared history puts us in too close a proximity to really see things from a different perspective. We are too alike. However, over the past year, we have been living in different countries, a thing that I believe has made us grow as people; although, it has not been pleasant all the time. Finding like-minded people is beyond difficult in this country of mine.

In any case, the cure to Marriage Fever is:

  

- Avoid engagement/marriage events at all costs, unless absolutely necessary

- Do not buy bridal magazines or watch romantic comedies about weddings

- Hang out with girlfriends, esp. single ones, and have a fun night out at least once a week

- Focus on advancing work/career

- Focus on personal interests/hobbies (esp. non-intellectual ones)

- Finally, do NOT compare your relationship to others.

You are at a place in your life that does not correspond with most people you know. Everyone’s experience is unique.

Just remember to remind yourself of that often!

Platonic/ Non-platonic

Saturday night was eventful. What started out as a harmless girls night out to get ONE drink, ended up with me going to B O 18 and dancing till the sun came up.

 

Sounds like fun, right?

 

It was. But as it usually happens, I ended up meeting an interesting guy  – even if he does not really fall into the category of handsome or cute — and I found myself thinking I should I have been rude/bitchy to not allow myself to like him a little bit too much.

 

This time, I promised myself I will protect myself with a vengeance. And I did.

 

Yet, I ended up NOT going to bed on Saturday night / sunday morning. Instead,  I drank some more with the guy (who happens to be an Iraqi, lived in London since he was 10, and was in Leb on vacation) on my porch, walked around town , had coffee and I could have spent the whole day with him.  

 

But I didn’t. I decided it was silly… and dangerous. At that point, only one thing could have happened — and I had to prevent that in any way possible.  

 

I dropped him off and confessed that although nothing (and i really mean NOTHING) happened, I still enjoyed his company and that I would like to see him for coffee again before he goes back to London.

 

Ten hours after I dropped him off, we met up at the same bar where we first met the night before. This time, we didn’t go in. We walked around and found to a little cafe and had a quiet conversation.

 

We spent the next 4 hours together, saying nothing, doing nothing. We just sat on my porch and enjoyed the silence. It was amazing how comfortable it felt just sitting there, zoning out (I believe  it was partly because  of the severe sleep deprivation we both had at the time) and saying nothing.

 

And while I would have loved to just invite him in, I told him I was too tired and that I needed to go to bed. He excused himself, and gave me a peck on the cheek before saying, “It was really nice ti meet you. I guess I’ll  see you when I see you.”

 

Ouch! But very understandable. Half an hour into our first conversation, I mentioned I have a boyfriend. He didn’t say anything, and he never made a move. No leaning in, or making up excuses to feel me up…

 

It was the first time I ever thought a guy is a gentleman. I kind of hated it. He looked so in control. But I liked him even more then, especially because he didn’t try to get into my pants after I specifically said I have a boyfriend and I will not cheat.

 

But I did hold his hand. And as lame as that sounds, it was enough.

Farsi For Fun

So, I started taking Farsi classes two weeks ago. The idea itself sounds weird, as I would have chosen to take any other language before I took Farsi.

 

But since Spanish was out of the question, since  I was too late for registration , the boyfriend convinced me to take Farsi for “funzies” as he says.

 

The fact that it’s only 40$ per session (for two and half months) book and CD included did tempt me. But all that aside, the sociological experience itself was worth it.

 

I spent the  first day of class feeling sick. Knots in my stomach, like it was the first day in school. I was dragged to class by the boyfriend, and the awkward silence that befell the Iranian center was deafening when I walked in. Everyone turned out, looked at me (all wet and an utter mess) and then ignored my presence just as quickly. 

 

Perhaps I need to explain more. The Iranian councilship center, as they call it,  is mostly attended by conservative Shia. It is also a stone’s throw away from Dahiyeh, Hezbollah’s stronghold in Lebanon.  

 

Picture this: Men with beards, women in chadors or in veils. But I don’t want to give the wrong image of the people there. Human beings are multi-faceted — it’s only that I don’t have access to what they think and feel. I’m The Other. I am, along with another married woman, the only two non-veiled / non-chadored females on the premises.   Talk about feeling awkward.

 

I am probably the only Sunni woman there. Everyone, including my teacher, have felt compelled to ask me why I want to study  Farsi. What baffles me is why isn’t the same question asked to all the Shia men and women there? Does their sect vouch for them? Apparently, it’s enough for some reason.     

 

One of the girls — let’s call her F — that I have become “class friends” with, i.e. our interactions are limited to the 6 hours of class every week, confessed (with the naive look on her face) that she was convinced I had lost my way the first day of class. What was I doing there? Surely, I must have lost my way. Even as I sat in class waiting for the teacher to read out the names of the attendees, she felt she needed to tell me that I was lost, and to help me be on my way. That’s what a good Muslim would do!

 

Yesterday, my teacher (as I think) felt the need to stay with me in class, since he usually goes and prays with the rest of the class in the 5 minute break we have every session. Everyone had left to pray the Maghreb prayer, and I was alone in class.

 

He approached me, rather shyly, and asked me why I chose to major in Philosophy. (I had lied and said I’m still in college, as my current company employer is on the other side of the political spectrum if you know what I mean.)

 

Apparently, my teacher — the 30 something Iranian man — is finishing his philosophy PhD in USJ. He spent  the next 10 minutes talking to me about my options after graduation at the work force and if I wanted to continue my education in Iran. I felt bad about lying, and I wanted to shout and say I have my Masters! I’m not a 24-yr-old idiot who’s still in college!! But I appreciate his sentiment.

 

Also, almost everyone knows some Farsi. Although, I’ve never heard a Lebanese speak Farsi before. Some have lived in Iran or work with Iranians and have thus acquired the language.

 

The younger generation is more educated. However, some of the adult students haven’t even finished 8th or 9th grade. That to me is shocking. I hate to admit that I might have been a bit sheltered with my privileged life, but I couldn’t conceal my surprise. (The elite in me is stunned.)

 

In any case, two weeks into the course, everyone is a bit more relaxed. The familiar faces and the teacher’s mild humor seemed to do the trick. I have made friends with F, along with two other guys, a Christian Lebanese [who's a friend of a friend - What a small world] and a Sunni Egyptian-British, both whom I really like and would definitely have a drink with soon.   

 

Until then, I will need to go study my Farsi.

 

Khuda Hafez.

Girls night out

So the meet up happened, along with so many other things. I did not write as my existential crisis was in the forefront for the past week.

 

But what strikes me the most is that my so-called crisis is shared by other people I know. The various factors that affect a person are so complex and intertwined that it seems almost impossible to pin point what is really wrong.

 

I went out with two girl friends yesterday. It was after I came from the gym and after I had a fight with the boyfriend. That aside, I had a wonderful time.

 

We enjoyed good food and good company, and we talked about boys, work, life goals, aspirations and fears… And I realized I’m not alone. My feeling of despair was shared by others too. Some in the relationship sphere, some at work. It doesn’t really matter.

 

The knowledge that my feelings are shared by others brings back some sanity to my life. And I can breathe again.

 

I reflect on my life and I find that I’m blessed. Good health, good work, good family, good friends… Everything is going smoothly. But I have to explain to people that sometimes even that is not enough. I want more. More of everything. But that entails taking risks I’m not quite sure I can take yet. Or if I even want to at all.

 

Until then, I will try to take one day at a time. And mend my fences in hopes that I will find more of what I want where I currently am.