i become that little girl again at twenty. Shaking, sad, mad, scared, trapped. Bound to both heaven and hell for eternity. because you will never leave your home.
i've come a long way. from feeling worthless to where i was a few hours ago. i've come a long way to regress back to this state. i've come a long way to notice that i can actually never leave. i've been running in circle in and out of this regression but i can't go out of it for good. because some things never change. because some people never change.
i've come to conclude that some people were born with a personality. they can change, according to phases or places, but their personality will remain the same. even if they claim to have changed to be better than who they were, you can expect their attitude and appearance may change, but their personality may not. because it's innate. it has been a part of them for so long that to them it isn't wrong. so they bring that personality wherever they go, whoever they be. as if it's biologically fixed, because they don't change psychologically.
but i will not let this little girl in me be my personality. i have come a long way. i have learned to love life. i have learned to love myself. i have learned to see the good in people. i have learned to see the good in this world. i have learned to have faith. i have learned that i matter, that i am of worth, that i have value, that i am loved.
why do you have to take all that away from me?
i used to feel like a nobody. but this time, why do you have to pin me as the bad guy? what have i ever done wrong? why am i never good enough? what else do i have to be? do i have to be perfect? do i have to be a saint? do i have to be an angel? to be so good? but oh no, you don't want me to be the best. because that's what makes me so bad in the first place doesn't it? and of course, you always know better. you are always better.
and i'm still the worthless kid whose opinion is nothing of value and whose feelings never matter.
but i never knew i was a threat.
if i didn't love myself, oh i would be as bad as you thought of me, even worse than that just to drag you along with me to hell just like you said. but i love myself. and anyone can drag themselves to hell without my help.
is insulting every aspect of me better than beating up every inch of me? everything i've ever done since i was a kid is never right and would influence me to be such a bad person because you're my best role model who oh always stays true to yourself and makes all the best choices aren't you? it used to be what i read, then what i watched, then who i was friends with, now what i say, what i study, where i'm going, everything is wrong and even when i learn about islam it's not right! you even questioned my faith! how does it not make me a real muslim? tell me how the person you were your whole life made you more muslim than i am? i didn't want to touch this issue but you did it first. that's the worst you've ever gone against me in all these years. your verbal abuse is no better than physical abuse. oh i know if you could, you would. you almost. you said it yourself. it's nothing new to you. listen to yourself. you're judgemental and delusional. you're paranoid and jumud. you're irrational. you're everything i'm against but what people don't know is i've been living with it my whole life. everything you say is questionable. whatever you accuse me of, you do too. whatever you say i am, you are as well. to say the least.
i know my sins. but the shits you throw me with, are not mine. i'm tired of this. it never ends.
i know my sins. but the shits you throw me with, are not mine. i'm tired of this. it never ends.
i'll never be your equal.
so yeah, talk about me to other people, talk against me. and i should never talk again.
i used to not talk at home, you see. i only talked to my mom. but in the presence of particular people, i became completely silent. because i knew better than to talk and have my words used against me, because why? because i didn't know anything. because age defines maturity and knowledge. because i was stupid. oh no, i was book smart, but that's what made me stupid in everything else because i thought i was such a smartass, right? when in fact i was just a stupid little kid.
so at home i hardly rarely talked to anyone else but my mom. but in the recent years, i changed. i developed my voice. i gained my figure. i became a person. i was more confident, and no longer silent. i share myself with the world, i show the real me to other people. but at home i mostly still talk only to my mom, but i was not afraid anymore to be heard by anybody else. because i believed people change. i began to believe that blood is thicker than water. i began to believe that we were getting better. but i was wrong.
this is my mom too. that was my dad too. why don't i feel like i belong? babah babah babah, with each breathe, i wished you were here. i knew it would be better if you were here. mama, thank god you are here. this is my home. this is my house. why am i the one who has to hide? why am i the one who has to leave?
i've been wanting to leave since i was a kid, not simply because i was ambitious. i wanted to stay in a boarding school and to study in another country not for that sole reason only. there's more to it than that. but now i can't leave because it will bring out the worst of me? are you serious? are you kidding me? don't you even know me? yes! you never know me! you have no idea who i am... at all. and you don't even want to know.
they say if you want to marry somebody, ask about them to their family. well in my case, don't. because what you will hear about me from them will make you flee. but it's good for you to flee, because nobody wants to marry this family.
the worst thing is when your family sees you as a stranger and strangers know you better.
yesterday, out of the blue, i got this.
i knew it's the truth, good things have to be shared because people love to share bad things.
i've experienced it. and it's proven again today. but this time, not by a friend, not by an enemy.
now i just stare at this message, thinking how strange that strangers see me in such a good way.
maybe they don't really see me? no. i will not be that little girl. i have come a long way just to doubt myself.
but now i know that's how you see me. i wish you never have to see me again.
my mom wiped my tears and rubbed my back and patted my head and brushed my hair and touched my cheek throughout the day. she doesn't normally do this. only when something happens. i became that little girl, as if years haven't passed. she said don't bother what he says, because he isn't that good anyway and he was worse and he thought we didn't know. she said something else she has been saying from the very beginning and until now never stops saying. she said nothing is wrong with me, as long as i take care of my prayers. nothing is wrong with me. i try to make that echo in my head, silencing all my doubts and demons.
she's the only reason i still go home. she's the reason hell feels like heaven.
so you see now why i actually only really care about my mom?
so you see now why i actually only really care about my mom?
my dad gave me courage. my mom gives me strength.
without my dad, everything has happened. without my mom, i don't know what would happen.
so alhamdulillah. and nauzubillah.
without my dad, everything has happened. without my mom, i don't know what would happen.
so alhamdulillah. and nauzubillah.
i didn't want to become a writer simply because i wanted to write. i didn't want to write simply because i loved it. it was my way to let things out. it was my way to tell my story without talking about me. want to know what's my first mental novel about about ten years ago? it's about a girl who left home.
i never really talk about my family to anybody. because i still love my family and i know them better despite what i know. i am the only one who gets to judge them because i am a part of them. but other people might misjudge and i don't want that. so blurting out all this on a public blog, i'm so screwed and messed up. but oh well. welcome to my life. this is reality. learn from my story.
for a girl who wants to love, i have so much hate.
oh Allah please take it all away. please.
i'm okay. if i'm not, i will be okay. thank you.

















































