Sunday, 22 February 2009


A couple of days ago I celebrated, or maybe I didn’t, the first anniversary for deciding to take off my headscarf. And I am telling you, something you most probably already know; time flies. Although this year confirmed my feeling that life is short, it also proved time to be able to take care of things by simply passing by.

A couple of days ago I decided to treat myself to a visit to the hairdresser’s, a new blouse, a ‘shia whip hazelnut scented Body Shop lotion’ (says the label), a new pair of sunglasses, and a breakfast of cappuccino and cinnamon roll. Pay check as you’ve guessed. Sounds nice? Yes, I agree. But nicer is the fact that I meant it and decided that this would be the norm. I don’t know how to describe it but it felt like taking someone you love for shopping just to make them happy.
A couple of days ago I decided to treat myself to … (see previous paragraph) in an attempt to make up for the many mistakes I did to myself.

A couple of days ago I wondered why I chose February 14th to take off my headscarf. I realized there was no reason whatsoever. It was simply the day I decided to leave home without it. I remember I felt cool wind in my hair, a shiver I can’t describe, and a sense of being naked and numb. Looking back I don’t remember the exact moment of decision and don’t know if what I keep telling myself is actually the real reason.

A couple of days ago I decided to treat myself to … (see paragraph 2) to congratulate myself on overcoming what my counselor described as ‘mild’ depression but felt like a constant nonsensical state of daydreaming or déjà vu. It was good to know that ‘mild’ was the clinical diagnosis and has nothing to do with the pain one has to go through because it was not mild. It was a nightmare that made me read about and/or experience things like anti-depressants, placebo, panic attacks, a John Breeding clip that helped me stop stupid, tasteless food, painful smiles, fatigue, loss of appetite, overeating, irritability, inability to concentrate, bad dreams, insomnia, true friends, terrible mood, distant hope, straight A’s, and a Fulbright grant.

I feel old and young, weak and strong, tired and relieved, happy and sad. All at once. All at moderation and none intense. A quiet not yet so peaceful aura has replaced turmoil. Maybe because I don’t imagine losing more than I did. Or maybe because life could be really unfair with or without a reason. Maybe because I’m confident the years to come will bring a new me that has already started to exist.