Vanishing Time

In a world where “time” seems to vanish into thin air while “things to do” keep lingering on with constant hope of catching “time”, I am left to wonder where is time vanishing too?

The alarm rings at 8:00am and I keep snoozing it for an hour hoping to get more sleep yet dreading the wasted minutes that are passing me by. That hour of snoozing is a restless hour, filled with thoughts and continues demands to enjoy my sleep. A battle deep within me makes it impossible to fall back into the wonders of my dreams and away from the schedules of my reality.

I finally push the covers off my body, jump out of bed and rush to the bathroom. It is at this point on that I am unable to relax, every minute counts, every second makes a difference and the whole schedule starts to form itself accordingly. I flip through my clothes in the closet in hopes of finding something I feel comfortable with, knowing that I will be out of the house all day with no hope of coming home to take an hour break I had to choose something that would last me all day long.

Within 10 minutes I am done getting dressed and go off into the TV room to have my mug of coffee and cigarette before I have to rush out of the house. I walk into the TV room to find my mom already there fully dressed and sipping on her coffee in delight watching the news channel. I sit with her as we have a quick update of both our mornings and then immediately finish off my coffee as I move myself towards my laptop to check my e-mails, wondering if there is anything that needs to be done before I have to leave. As it just so happens, there is always something to be done, and so in complete indulgence I dive into work mode, hearing nothing and answering no one. My mom tries to open topics with me and all that keeps coming out of my mouth are the words, “yes”, “oh”, “really” and “hmmmm”. Recently I have learnt to add the word “no” to my response system since I had found myself saying “yes” to things I have no interest in doing or the time to do.

Hours keep passing by as work over takes my entire soul, i can’t seem to stop, I can’t find a way to stop. One thing takes me into the next and into the next and in no time 3 hours have already passed and I haven’t seen the streets yet. I am already running late, my phone won’t stop ringing and I finally pick it up to go through all my bbm’s, my missed calls and any sms’s. I roll away from my desk, switch off the lap top, and rush back into the bathroom to wash my face again, brush my teeth and put on my flip flops. I return back to the tv room to pack up my lap top to take it to work with me and to my dismay my mom has a list of things she wants of me. I stand there on edge, all that is running through my mind is “I have no time, I have no time, I have no time.” Therefore I have not heard 50% of what was requested of me. I kiss her good bye and rush out the door carrying my lap top and hand bag that weights a 100 kilos from the weight of all the notebooks and books I have wedged into it.

At last I am on the road, its already 1:00pm and I am so far away from where I should be. The traffic is insane and I know that I am spending a good hour, if not more, on the road. I pick up my phone, attaché the head set to it and go through all my missed calls and unanswered bbm’s. As I am driving at no more than 3 miles an hour I am able to return all my phone calls and respond to all the bbm’s and sms’s.  Finally an hour later I arrive to work excited to get hold of my lap top again and start working on all the things that I had to cut short to get out of the house. As I park the car and walk towards my work in the Art Café I am bombarded by a whole bunch of people who are there taking classes or asking about the classes we offer there.

Quick summary about my job: It’s a place that me and two other friends decided to open together, a place where people can go and enjoy a few hours in a very artistic environment that provides nothing but art. It was 7 years ago that the idea became a reality and its been taken care of solely by one partner. I had spend a good two years in it then I left town for a good 5 years and finally my partners decided to convince me to come back and be fully involved. I came back to an amazing environment that was filled with people and over 30 different types of creative art classes. Our business had expanded and all the people in Cairo knew the name “Art Café”. I was so proud of my partner, she had done a great job at marketing the place and I was wondering how we were making no profit at all. That is when my role came in, I needed a base for it, a solid base, formats, schedules, prices, cost estimates etc….New branches needed to open up, yet was impossible to do with the lack of any profit we were receiving. We were requested to be more available in different areas in Cairo. We needed to expand in so many ways and that is when all the work began. On the other hand I also had my passions that I needed to pursue, reiki and NLP coaching. And so I revamped a room to turn it into a quiet reiki and NLP room.

So going back to the day: As I walked in to the Art Café I realized that getting any work done on my lap top was going to be near impossible. There were workers there renovating the space outdoors, there were workers inside painting the walls. There were children working on an array of art projects, adults coming in to take their art classes and the whole staff running around like headless chickens. Luckily my partner is there also and we try to find any place to go and have a quick update on the new upcoming art season, to no avail. We are able to exchange a few words every few hours, as we are being asked a tone of other things to do and work on.

By 7pm the day has calmed down and there is just one class taking place and the Art Café is silent with the amazing background music taking over the silence. I take out my lap top and with a joy in my heart, I take a seat to get some work done. I look at my phone and realize there is a whole new set of bbm’s, and missed calls. I decide to return the calls which eat up another hour of my day as the evening plans with friends take place. I do a few NLP’s on friends over the phone to help them out with a few issues and work on 1 or two people in Art Café who need a quick reiki for a certain emotional or physical pain.

Its already 8:30pm and I have not worked on any of the things I needed to work on, my own personal deadlines. I close my lap top, pack my things, say bye to everyone still working in Art Café and head off to my social outing. Another hour in the car, and this time I choose to hear my music blaring on blast to stop my brain from thinking. The music provokes more thoughts and so as I sit stuck in traffic I take out my note pad and jot down all the things running through my mind, my schedule gets even larger.

Finally I get to my destination point, hop out of the car, leave my lap top in the car, take my hand bag as the phone is wedged between my shoulder and my right ear talking to my friends, figuring out where they are located. As I walk in, I take a deep breath and realize what a great feeling it is to disconnect and just hang out with my friends for a bit, somewhere outside of work and all the work things I can’t stop thinking about.

The evening turns out to be very interesting, different friends join in as others leave and I find myself sitting there for at least another 3 hours, enjoying every minute of it. It’s already past 12:00am and I start itching to leave, worried about my sleep and the morning snooze. I finally get up, get in my car again and head home. It’s around 1:30 am as I park the car, exhausted and totally burnt out, my eyes burn, my head is throbbing and my shoulders are completely knotted up.

I get home, go into my bedroom and rip the clothes off my body as I rush to get into the shower. the excitement of putting on my pj’s is overwhelming and I relish every item I put on. Sleep has left me, and I am wide awake again, I go into the tv room, my mom is already fast asleep and so I have time on my own, time to just flip through he tv channels and zone out into a good show or movie. My cats greet me with an amazing amount of love as I take out their brushes and start to groom them while I watch something interesting on tv. Once done, I flop on the couch and get into a state of mind filled with nothing but interest in what I am watching.

Its 2:30 am and finally I am sleepy again, I switch off the tv set, say good night to my cats and head towards my bedroom. I cozy up inside the covers, take out my eye glasses, pick up my book that is perfectly placed on my bedside table, and I start to read. No less than half hour later my book has returned to its designated spot, my glasses are thrown into their box and I am fast asleep, inside my world of dreams and love.

Things are still pending, time has passed me by, and I have gotten only 60% of things done. Time seems to pass me by, life seems to fly by without my being able to catch it. If only I can find Time, if only I can hold it down and tell it to wait…wait for a bit…..wait for me….wait I have so much I have to do, so many things I want to do…..STOP and wait for me.


Ecstasy at its Best

The fear over took me as I lifted one leg up placing it carefully on a tiny little pedal as the other leg flew over the narrow seat and rested on the opposing  pedal. My hands grasped Mark’s shoulders as I slowly sat down on the narrow leather seat. I felt like chocking up, I was unable to breath, the large helmet closed around my face, cradling my chin and covering my ears and cheeks only allowing a narrow opening for my eyes to see and nose to breath. I asked Mark repeatedly “Are you sure this is safe? The last time I did this I was nine years old.” And Mark kept reassuring me “Trust me it is very safe, you will feel the freedom you have always longed for”

As Mark started to move very slowly with his motorcycle I relaxed for a few seconds giving full and utter trust in Mark’s abilities and the fact that he has been riding since a very young age. Just as I was starting to talk myself into the reliability of what I was on, I found my legs thrown off of the pedals and crashing against the cement floor as the motorcycle fought to hold itself up. I got off the bike in a heart beat as Mark tried to lift it off its tilted angel with all the strength he had in his legs. Once the bike was up again, standing the way a bike should stand I hesitated for a few seconds before hoping back on it. I didn’t want to make Mark feel that he was not competent at what he loved to do the most and yet the fear of my life being under someone else’s hands was overwhelming. Needless to say, the need and desire to make Mark feel that I still trusted him over took my fear and I was back on the bike, pretending like nothing happened. As we started to drive off again, this time moving a lot faster I felt my heart was gonna throw itself outside of my chest and give up on me.

“Why do I always do that to myself?”  I wondered “Why is it always someone else’s feelings that I worry about a lot more than mine?” I was afraid, so afraid all I was able to do was come to terms that this was how I was gonna die. I kept repeating prayers in my mind and heart as my arms wrapped themselves around Mark’s waist. I kept asking God to forgive all my sins and forgive any bad I had done in my life, and as I kept praying and visualizing my death we came to a halt and I was surrounded by other bikers all parked in front of a bike store chatting away and purchasing things for their bikes. Once we were off the bikes, Mark took off and went inside the store to check out helmets as I stood outside observing all the people around me, watching their facial expressions and seeing them wave a polite hello to me. Mark appeared again and asked me to go in the store with him and check it out, I obediently did that, out of worry of being left alone with the death machine.

Against all my wishful prayers, we got on the bike again and this time I was sure we were gonna die. Mark was a pro at driving a Harley and I should have felt safe internally, the anguish was beyond my understanding, the images in my head were overwhelming me as the wind crashed itself against my face and body. We stopped again at a gas station before our long trip to the sea, he asked me again at the gas station if I was ok and up for the ride and humbly I said “Yes I am ready for it” unknowingly to him that I had come to terms that God had planned my death on that very day, on that motorcycle, on a long desert road towards the sea that I was sure I would never see.

The Harley was filled up with gas, our helmets were back on our heads, my hands were balanced on marks shoulders and we were off onto the highway that is known to have killed hundreds of thousands of people. I prayed again and again, and asked for forgiveness from God in every possible form and envisioned how mad my mom would be on the day of my funeral that I actually got on a motorcycle and never told her. As all these fears and images came flashing by me something started happening to me a very unexpected turn of events. My prayers became more positive; I started asking God to bless me with a wonderful life filled with the wonderful freedom I was feeling internally at this very moment. My arms loosened from around mark’s waist and they now leaned casually on his shoulders. My head tilted up towards the sky watching the clouds form all sorts of shapes and animals. I forgot all my fears and I felt like I was one with nature and life. I lost track of life and all my worries and my mind seemed to venture in all the right directions with all the right thoughts and right expectations. Reality would come crashing at me the minute Mark would caress my leg to make sure I was doing fine and I would remember that I was on a motorcycle and not up there in the clouds having an out of body experience. Even when I would come back to reality and notice where I really was, there was nothing but utmost joy in my heart, the fear had dissipated itself into a world that refused to accept its presence anymore.

After half an hour of the most amazing ride of my life, Mark asked me if I wanted a cigarette break and I screamed out loudly “YES” with a giddy smile and a laughter I had no more control over. We stopped, I took of my helmet and started to jump up and down with loving joy. I thanked Mark for making me take this trip with him, I thanked him with all my heart at the amazing experience he just provided me with. My heart was filled with gratitude and love for this man, he took me out of my worries and gave me freedom unlike any other known to man. Once we were done we hoped back onto the bike and I was ecstatic to get back on it again, I could not wait to have the wind blow up against my body or the rush of excitement that came with speed, or the basic feeling of my soul freed outside of my body.

We continued our ride some more and in another half hour found a bike stop over where all the other motorcycles stopped to talk and take a break. As we sat down on a table sipping on our coffees we watched all the other bikers getting ready to leave, and the rush I felt inside as I watched them drive away made me crave to get on the bike again.

A small discussion went on between me and Mike and we both came to terms that it would take us another hour to get to the sea and then another hour to enjoy the beauty of nature and an hour and half to drive back. This was all going to be hard to do before sunset and therefore decided to head back into town and do this trip another day. My heart ached a bit when we decided upon that, I wanted to see the sea so badly, just to complete this wonderful feeling I had inside. I need that final closure to that wonderful ride, and the one way of feeling that and doing it was to actually be by the sea and meditate to the sound of the waves.

As we drove back, I forgot the urge to see the water and the waves and felt elated again to be on the motorcycle. The wind was getting stronger and my body felt that it would fly off the bike at any moment, but I didn’t care the least bit, I was on this bike and my soul was over joyed, I had no fears I only had an abundance of love in my heart and wanted to cherish every second of it.

What I learnt was that fear is conquerable because it is something that does not exists outside of ones mind. Those random images that kept my stomach turned over and my heart racing were only images conjured by my own mind. Once I faced my fear, came terms with it and accepted it as only a fear, I actually broke free of it. It did not exist anymore, it could not exist anymore because all those images fled away and they didn’t stop me from going ahead and doing what the “fear” tried its best to stop me from doing.

Fear froze me yet the conquering of it set me free to find a new hobby that allows my soul to drift off into wonderful realms of my true reality. Bless you Mark for the persistence on getting me on that Bike and thanks for showing me the beauty that exists outside my own mind.

For the Poem Click on ” I must admit 

Alcohol-The ways of the bottle

It is always a wonder how people have the appetite to get completely intoxicated by an enormous abundance of alcohol once they go out at night. What I have a hard time understanding is the amazing ability people have of forgetting the pain they suffer the next day, or the disgraceful behavior they put themselves through once they exceed the social limits of drinking.

If you look at it from a completely different point of view you will come to realize that the person who chose to drink all night long has lost a whole day and a half of their lives. Half a day was spent in complete delusion and the next day in agonizing pain, unable to do anything other than lie in bed in hopes their body will gain its normality again.

I was always one to drink and party, one to go all the way and enjoy myself in the luxuries of the joyful night life. In due time and probably cause of my daily desire to party I started to minimize my outings realizing that days were passing me by and myself image was deteriorating. I was losing touch with all the wonderful possibilities that life was offering me because I was too busy partying with the moon and falling asleep with the rise of the sun.  As I grew older and started to work my outings would be limited to weekends allowing a few hours of daylight delight before the grand gesture to escape into the warmth and safety of my bed. A few years of that life and I was starting to wonder what it was like to have a weekend from dusk till dawn fully alert and able to function headache and nausea free.  I quit drinking for eight years and life looked completely different. When I would go out at night with my friends I was still completely hyper and active dancing the night away with the utmost of pleasure. The shocker was seeing a lot of my friends splattered on the dance floors, toppling over every time they tried to get up or hitting on people that were truly despicable to the sober eye.

My days were filled with the warmth of the sun, the depth of my conscious mind started growing in ways that only day life was able to accomplish. I saw what all the other people saw and felt their glory of the wonders of a completely sober life. Naturally as life always tries to balance a person out and allows them to choose their path I started to suffocate from my own rule of no drinking. I slowly started to incorporate a glass of wine into my outings or an apple Martine, making my head feel light after just a few sips. To me this was a great accomplishment, I was what people call, a cheap date, and I felt honored to be just that. Not that I was a drunk before , but my tolerance for alcohol was very high making me able to hold up a lot of liquor in my system before I got even tipsy. Strangely enough my outings to night clubs started decreasing and my desire to intoxicate myself started to slowly deplete. In time I became a moderate drinker, most of my outings were alcohol free and maybe every few months I would have a few drinks then be turned off by it completely. Even the close to nothing that I would have was ruining my next days and that was starting to get on my nerves allowing me to push away further and further from perceiving alcohol as a pleasure drink.

I returned back to heavy drinking when I met and married my ex husband. It was one of my only remedies and means of self expression. The more he kept telling me that I am not allowed to drink the more I drank, I wanted to rebel in one way or another, but my rebellion was only self harming. I was unable to understand why he was allowed to drink and I was not allowed to, I hated the chauvinism that I was forced to live and abide by. A year and half after the divorce my true nature came in floods and I slowly went back to a drink every once in a while or a few drinks in heavy clubbing outings. My tolerance level had risen again by then and I was unable to feel the buzz of the alcohol until I had managed to sedate myself with a few more glasses. In due time and because I missed my old self and my realizations about life I took an alcohol break. I despised its taste and one glass of wine would turn me into mush. A severe depression would always hit me the next day and in turn would ruin the next few days of my life. As the detachment from Alcohol came my way I started to see people in a different light, the outings were not as fun as they used to be, my friends were acting very strange when they were under the influence of alcohol. Men would turn aggressive and extremely silly and women would become incoherent and slutty. I visualized myself in their shoes and realized what a humiliating state of mind these people are in, and realizing that I was in that state years back without realizing how silly I must have been.

In all fairness I harbor no ill feelings towards people who choose to intoxicate themselves on special occasions or every single night, it is their life to miss out on. The reality of the matter is that I consciously choose not to be a part of that life style and with that choice I have found an array of people who can have a drink or two some nights without having to dilute their whole system with alcohol, making the outings much more interesting to indulge in. There are those who enjoy their alcohol to crazy degrees and have a huge amount of tolerance to it and I do enjoy their company immensely but at the end of the day once I feel things are getting out of control and I may lose respect for that person, I hop in a cab and go back home to the warmth of my bed knowing that I have a long day ahead of me to bask in the sun and enjoy coffees and lunches with an abundance of friends who also chose to have only one or two glasses the night before.

There is a lot more to life than pouring alcohol into your system until delusion hits and spending the rest of the next day searching for things and ways to remove the remains of the night before. The celebration of occasions does not have to include intoxication to abnormal degrees. The joy of it is tremendously short yet the pain after is longer lasting and not worth the few hours of complete self humiliation. As a reiki healer, I am told not to heal anyone if I am under the influence of alcohol, the reason being is that my energy would not be aligned right with me, not being able to provide the person in need of the right healing they deserve to get from me. It closes off my intuitive self and distorts my reality for at least a day or two after, making my one mission in life impossible to accomplish on a daily basis.

I have yet to understand those who still continue to abuse their bodies and humiliate themselves past the age of 30. The married people who have kids and go back home drunk and are unable to wake up in the mornings to care for their children. The young adults who have work the next day and might be responsible for a few members of their family’s security and dignity, The single person who finds no other way of truly enjoying their evening outside of alcohol, or the forty year old who still feels like talking with a slurr and picking up women in the presence of his wife and friends is sexy. I tend to see this as a wakeful state of slumber as life passes them by and their only concerns are where to travel to be able to party the hardest. They miss out on the beauty of their life and what the world has to offer them of excitement and new discoveries, only to drown in the depth of their sorrows and dance with the moon neglecting the arrival of the sun that wants to show them the beauty around them.


Yet another Mysterious Miracle

I was getting dressed ready to go out for a night filled with two different house parties for the event of the Christmas celebrations. As I was getting dressed I decided to change my jewelry and use something more profound and expensive. I removed my daily watch along with my three bracelets and replaced them with a diamond studded watch and crystal studded bracelet that wrapped itself around my wrist. I placed my watch and three bracelets on my dresser, took one last look at myself in the mirror, rushed out the door and hopped into my car to pick up a friend to head off to my first Christmas party event.

The night was lovely the two parties I attended were great and very different from one another, I mingled with people, I saw old friends and the night turned out to be better than expected. Upon my arrival back home I naturally slid off my high heeled shoes off my feet while I stood in the elevator as it ascended towards my floor and got out my keys. I rushed into my bedroom once I got into my apartment as I started to unzip my dress to relieve myself of its constraints. I threw on my long “man shirt” and slid on my boxer shorts, walked cautiously to the bathroom as my cats hovered between my legs and washed my face and brushed my teeth. Once all was done and I was completely in my comfort zone I decided to remove my jewelry and put on my daily jewelry back on. Since I have an inability to do only one thing at a time, I decided to hurry up my procedure by picking up my watch and bracelets off the dresser, hold onto my night bag, carry my day bag on my shoulder, pick up one of my cats off the floor since I was about to trample over her and walk out towards my living room. I place the three bracelet’s and watch on my center table as I release my cat onto the floor, I put the night bag on my large L-shaped sofa and day bag right next to it. As I slowly bend down to place myself on the couch I pick up my watch and clasp it back onto my wrist. The second my body touches the couch I remember that I forgot to get my hand cream out of the bathroom to moisturize my hands and arms before I put my jewelry back on. So I get up and go into my room and into the bathroom, pick up the hand cream and walk back into my living room towards my heavenly couch.

I am so relieved that I finished everything in fifteen minutes and now I can put on my bracelet’s and take all the items out of my night bag and place them safely back into my day bag. Everything is at hands reach, my bags to my right, my cream held in my hand, the remote controls to the tv and decoder on the center table in front of me and my three bracelet’s on the same center table. Wait a minute…..where are my bracelets? Everything is where I put them except for the bracelets!!!! I jump off the couch and lean my face closer to the center table, as if I have turned blind and the bracelets are the only things I have become blinded to. I sweep my hand all over the surface of the table in hopes of finding them and there is nothing. I go down on my knees and start to rub the carpet underneath my center table and couch hoping I would feel them; maybe they were embedded into my fluffy, hairy carpet? Nothing. I lift up my head to look at the carpet from a further distance and find one of my bracelets randomly thrown a few feet away. I rush to it and put it on, now my hope of finding the rest has grown into a fruitful mission. I sweep the carpet all over again with my hands as I crawl all over it on my hands and knees. Nothing.

I walk back and forth from my living room into my bedroom into my bathroom and back again five times, and still the only thing that I have is the one bracelet safely secure on my wrist.

I decide to stop looking and go back to my errands of creaming my arms and removing my belongings from my night bag into my day bag. I tell myself that “If I am meant to have them they will come back to me” and then I switch on my TV and decoder and start to watch a repeat of “Friends” episode. It’s 2:30 in the morning and I collapse on the couch.

The next morning I wake up forgetting about my two other bracelets. I rush off to the bathroom, clean up myself and that is when I remember that I have two bracelets missing somewhere in the house. I take one more look around the house, this time including the kitchen and still find nothing. I decide to go downstairs for a cup of coffee in my favorite coffee place with my lap top in hand to start my daily writings before my day of errands and people socializing starts.

I spend a good two hours in my favorite coffee shop, tying away, searching the net, answering phone calls and sipping on my second cup of coffee. This is usually the best part of my weekend, the morning coffee alone with my lap top or book, enjoying the scenery of passersby as the wind blows itself through my hair.

Two hours later I decide I have to pay the bill, get off my butt and start getting ready for my social endeavors. as I am walking out of the coffee shop towards the hidden entrance into my building, my day bag on my shoulder and my laptop in my arm I hear someone yell out “Excuse me miss, excuse me” I am baffled and assume it’s not for me. I continue to walk and as I enter the secret door the voice gets louder and closer, I turn around and I find a kind looking man, beaming a smile at me, holding out his hands with what looks like a bracelet dangling from it. “Is this yours?” he says to me. I slowly walk towards him as I squint my eyes at what seems to be my bracelet.

I can’t believe it, it is my bracelet. I move my hand towards it as I touch it I look up at him and say “How did you find it?” and he responds to me with that same constant smile “it fell off the table when you got up to leave” I took it out of his hand, stared at it for a few seconds as I speedily retorted to him “I cant believe this!!!! This is so strange, how is it possible? My God thank you so much” I beam a smile back at him filled with gratitude and wonder. Thank him once more as I whisper afterwards “How is this possible” and walk towards my elevator in utter wonder of the possibilities of finding my bracelet anywhere outside of my house!

Bracelet number three is still missing, but I am sure that somehow it will find its back way to me if its meant to continue being mine.

Butterflies of Time – Chapter 2 – Emma

In a far away land across the deserts and the seas a young girl named Emma was born. Her head rested gently on her mothers bosoms as she tried to suckle on the offered breast for the first time while hearing the murmur of voices hovering around her. The murmur was a conversation between her mother and father, both contemplating the possibilities of giving their new born daughter away. Little did Emma know at the time that she was unwanted by both her parents from before she was born, little did she know that she was to be sent off far away into another country to be taken care of merely by an aunt. This was how Emma started her journey on this earth a journey of rejection by the two people who should have cherished and loved her from her suckling experience.

Emma knew nothing about how her life would have been with her parents, all she knew was the life that she was leading with her loving aunt. The truth of the matter was that her aunt always felt guilty for Emma, a young child who was left to a relative although both her parents were still alive. In knowing this Emma became a spoiled child, she knew that through guilt she could get away with murder, that her aunt loved her too much and was unable to reprimand her in the right way cause of her current situation. As she grew older, she started to rebel; at the mere age of twelve her parents got news of her aggressive attitude knowing that the aunt was unable to take control of the situation and was told to move back home. By then both her parents had been divorced for twelve years living their lives outside of one another. They had both moved forward in life and got married to other people. This was of course a tough position that they had put themselves and Emma in, who was she to live with? Who would be able to contain her wild side and aggression best? The verdict was made and she was sent to spend time with her mother and her mother’s new husband. Things were not going well for her at the time, she was not easy to tame and her rebellion was hard for her mother to understand especially that she had no true understanding of who her daughter was.  

After some time Emma was moved to her father’s house to live with him and his new wife, hoping that he will be able to take better control of Emma. Her life got even tougher, her father would leave the house and lock the door to make sure she wouldn’t leave when he was out, with no care of her safety incase a fire took place and his daughter needed to rush out. Her father’s home was filled with his friends of all walks of life, making it harder for her to be comfortable in her own new found home. She started to throw tantrums declaring that there were men approaching her in a dirty fashion but all her plea for help went into the hollow pits of uncaring ears. She was moved to her mother’s house after that, her step mother not believing a word Emma said, assuming that she was a rebel and wanted to do anything to destroy their family.

Emma spent the rest of her growing years between both parent’s homes, each one not knowing what to do with her, each one not giving the time to know their daughter. Her parents were too busy for her to even care about her psychological state of mind.

Emma remained an only child to both her parents, neither one wanting another child, not even with their new spouses. You would expect her to be the golden child the cherished child, and yet that was far from the truth. She remained the unwanted child and as the years passed her inner feeling of not being worthy enough to be loved and believed grew stronger within her young soul.

Emma had a radiant smile full of love allowing everyone around her to feel her joy although her internal joy was never to be found. She ventured into the world behind her parents back, she learnt the truth was never something that anyone believed and she knew how to lie to get the freedom she was seeking. She returned on several occasions back to her aunt to seek comfort and love that was never given to her anywhere else. Her interest in finding the right man to give her the love she so desired was a true longing within her which in return attracted her to all the wrong type of man. In doing so there was  a constant affirmation that she cannot be loved, that no one can love who she really is which kept leading her to go for the men that were unable to provide her with the comfort she most craved; the love of her parents.

At university she knew how to dress to the prime, how to attract a man with her wild eyes and her gentle voice. Her smile blossomed on her lips as her eyes stayed cold and distant, yet no one put in the effort to see through her cold eyes and allow for the warmth to seep in. Her tears were always close to falling and at times they were well organized for a self pity story that she had formed to get something that she wanted out of her parents, knowing that the truth would always fail her.

She started work and excelled at her job, they loved her there as they saw the kind gentle side she so well hid from the world. Her smile still radiated, her sadness still over took her heart but her ability to get along with others was the one thing that she held dear to her heart. She had perfected the art of pretending to be happy in her life and within the confines of her own skin. She had become a great person to depend on, a person where others could rely on for the comfort that they themselves had missing in thier live, not knowing that the person they were turning too was seeking that same comfort yet never able to find it. At work she would bounce around full of life, dainty and all girl like, allowing her to put her guard down giving her space to venture into her natural loving nature.

Her parents were still a distant comfort to her, her aunt would visit her constantly knowing that she was in desperate need to feel love, the unconditional love, that only a parent knows how to give their child. Religion was a distant cry and nothing that was of any possible temptation to her but the rise and uproar of it in the country she was living in allowed her to tread in its direction giving her some peace deep within. This provided a comfort with her colleagues at work and it made her belong to something better, cleaner and much more fulfilling than the life she was leading or the life she was forced to live in. She embraced the veil as she succumbed to her fathers vigorous attacks on her new dress code and choice of way of life. Her peace came at knowing that she didnt need a person to take care of her, she had a much larger entity to rely on, and that was her new found love of God.

To be continued…..