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Wednesday, March 28, 2012


Love is our all quality that has made life possible. It is our all origin. It is our destiny. It is our home and our path. It is all there is.

"I have learned to be silent and to listen.
Every heart has a story to tell.
Every heart knows about its divine origin.
Every heart knows it is love."

What is Love?

This is something I have been thinking about for a very long time. How can I define love? How can my heart decide what kind of love to feel? Why do we say I love you like a mother would love her child, I love you like a best friend, like a sister, like a brother. Who makes this decision, and how, based on which criteria?

I have so many thoughts on the matter, but I am still a bit confused,  although they are comforting thoughts.
What defines the love we share with each other? I think our love is only defined by our needs.
Love is equal to everyone; it has no limits, nor boundaries. The differentiation is only made in the mind, not in the heart, and it's only determined by the kind of love we are lacking in our life.

I have been reading a lot lately, that love of Self is the most important and that once we can love ourselves, we can be happy and feel complete. I also read, frequently, that a successful couple is formed by two people who complete each other. Both statements are somehow true, but not exclusive.

When a child is born, he needs to learn how to love himself. His first teachers are his parents and his siblings. The next step will be taught at school age, with other children and teachers. He will learn to accept himself for who he is, and he will learn that he as important as anyone else.

So, in order to love myself I need to learn things from others who have specific roles in my life, and if one of those "teachers" is missing, I will look for him in any other person I meet.

There are lessons we need to learn from a mother, a father, a partner in life, a brother, a sister, a friend, a best friend, a guide, a teacher, etc. Needs that we have to fill in to be complete and also, needs that will help us feel our life is fulfilled.

If my partner is giving me the Love I need from him, I wouldn't fall in love with someone else. If the father figure has been available in my life, I wouldn't look for a father in the people I meet, same for the mother and friends, brothers and sisters.

That is something I have felt all my life when blaming myself for the love i was feeling for different persons, but I blamed myself for this love without understanding the causes. Why would I love my teachers as a child loves his mother? Same thing for my friend. My best friends have always been for me the perfect mother figure. I used sometimes to be upset if one of my friends considered me a sister when for me, she was more like a mother, and that has sometimes created problems for me.

Now, I finally understand: I needed the mother, she needed the sister she never had. I realized that because I made a list of all the persons who consider me a real true sister. All those either never had a sister or have faced problems with their sisters in their childhood or life. So they saw in me the sister-figure they were lacking.

My earliest memories are of wanting a brother ... two new babies were a disappointment, because they were sisters. Every male friend I made became, for me, the brother I so desired, particularly the supportive, protective ones. I don't remember ever looking at any man as a father, now I understand why ... it's because my father has always been present in my life. Whether he was a good father or not is not the problem, as long as he was there.

I have noticed myself becoming very "romantic" lately ... I found myself dreaming of love, a very pure and innocent love. I can imagine myself walking with my partner on the beach, riding a bike in a big park, running on the grass, laughing and talking, and having fun. I realized that I have never truly experienced LOVE before because that innocent kind of love, the one that usually teenagers have, when they can feel the happiest in the world just by holding hands, was never fulfilled. As long as I don't live that experience, I don't think I can grow up ... in love

Sunday, March 25, 2012

HIT ME, Please....

Hit me, please, please hit me, please, please do it, and let's get it done!!!
Whenever he does, he says and repeat you have been looking for it, you needed it, you wanted it, I'm doing it for you.
How true is this? Does any victim of abuse really provoke a violent incident? Sometimes I do, but for sure not in the way he means it. I do when the tension gets really unbearable. Waiting for an explosion, is worse than the explosion itself. I can see him turning around, going back and forth, arguing about nothing, creating an issue that does not exist, raise his hand, kick the door, yells curses, screams, and in the meantime, I am there wearing that silly smile, looking at him, breathless, and saying in my heart: Hit me please, please hit me, and get it done,

I can't handle the waiting, no more, I want to breathe, so just do it and empty your anger. Do it, so that we can both feel better. I want to breathe. I'm tired of waiting, Waiting is killing me. My body is all tensed, My face is crisped, my mind is empty, and my heart is full, full of painful love.

It has just taken me back now to that 12 years old little innocent girl, as he was telling her: I know that's what you want, everything in you is telling me you need me, everything in you is calling me, you want it, you want me, you want that, you need me, it's not me, it's you, you need me to do it, say it, admit it, tell me you want me to do it, tell me, it's you.......
And they are guilt free, all of them.....

Thursday, March 22, 2012

Where are their mothers????

"Give me dollars, give me dollars, give me, please, I pray
Give me dollars, give me dollars ..." I hear this ev’ry day

 Little children on the roadway, dodging twixt the cars
Knocking at the drivers' windows, begging, "Please" for alms

Lurking yonder, 'tween the houses, see the gang boss wait
Taking all those hard-begged dollars, hiding by the gate
Money goes into their pockets, nothing for the kids
"Give me dollars, please, I beg you ..." (for the boss, who's hid)

Children taken from their mothers, often far away
Begging, begging for their masters ev’ry single day.
Such young children, five, six, seven, forced to work like this
Speaking pidgin languages, without a mother’s kiss.

You’ll find them on the streets of London, Paris and Beirut
Pulling at the good folks’ heartstrings, (masters count the loot)
Kind folk know the kids get beaten if they don’t prevail
So, their begging gets them dollars, helps them not to fail.

In the doss-house, at the day’s end, kids sleep on the floor
Huddled, hungry, dirty, lonely … missing Mother, sore …
‘Aunty’ counts money with ‘Uncle’, drinks her bottle dry,
Goes and slaps a weeping girl-child “I’ll teach you not to cry!”
                                                                      Patricia Eastwood

Every single morning, I pass by those little kids on my way from home to work. I took those pictures not letting them notice me, as I didn't want to frighten them. When my children complain about not having all the things they wish for in life, I can't help comparing them to those little angels abandoned on the streets in the cold winter or under a burning sun.
Do they eat enough? Do they ever go to see a doctor when feeling sick? do they have the necessary vaccination done? Does anyone teach them to read? do they ever laugh? Are they beaten, abused or raped? Do they know who their parents are? Are they loved? Are they HAPPY?

Are they happy? I think that is the hardest question. My first reaction would be to answer: "of course, they're not!!! How can they be happy living under these conditions?" That was my answer, and that was what I first wrote.
My day started really bad yesterday, and ended even worse. It was Mother's day and my children were upset that I didn't stay with them so that they could wish me a happy mother's day. I had decided not to avoid them this year, but I couldn't. I have failed in that. Not only did I avoid them, but I totally ignored them, and their loving wishes. I read a lot of disappointment and sadness in their eyes this morning, and I am blaming myself and hate what I have done. My mind was elsewhere. I was facing troubles at work, I was facing my own emotions. I was facing the abuse my son and I had to endure that morning from their father. I was also facing my guilt feeling, my eternal companion that keeps reminding me how useless I am in all my different roles, how dependent I can be on others love, how fear of abandonment can still sometimes take control of my life.

Are my own children happy? How could I allow myself to compare them with others? Happiness is relative. There are no specific life conditions to define happiness or create it. Those abandoned children might be much happier than others if they accept their life, if they know nothing else to compare with. Do they really know at their age how important it is to go to school if their parents never had education anyway? Are they upset for not having the most recent video game if they never watched TV anyway? Do they feel the need to buy a chocolate if they never tasted it? I'm not sure.

While starting this post now, I was angry against those kids mothers, but now..... I just don't know.......

Thank you Pat for the beautiful/sad poem you wrote specially for this post. I love it <3

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

A special thought to all the Mothers

How can a mother protect her children?
How can she teach them how to defend themselves if they are being sexually abused?
How can she convince them to be always honest and franc, and not to protect the person who is aggressing them or hurting them?
How can a mother protect herself from an abusive husband, in order to maintain the family ties?
How can a mother who is left alone, assume all the financial responsibilities and the education of her children?
How can a mother explain to her children that she might have made a bad choice in life without having to hurt their feelings by mentioning bad things about their father, and to teach them to love him despite all the hurt because after all, they are the beautiful gifts of that marriage?
How can a mother show her children all the attention and the affection they deserve, if she, herself, needs to have someone who can take care of her, and show her love and tenderness?

A special thought to all the mothers in the world, the ones who are happy and the ones who are suffering, the ones who are assuming their responsibilities and the ones who give up and are unable to continue, the ones who are living and the ones who passed.
Being a mother is sacrificing someone’s own life for the sake of the children.
A special thought to all the mothers who will read this and to all the persons who have lost their mother.

I was trying last night to copy and save some of the documents I had on my laptop which last year was used  as a weapon against me. Apparently my bones are not that strong since the laptop broken in two pieces over my head, but the hard disk could be recovered.
I was happy to find my diary of 2007. The text above was written on August 30,2007.

Tomorrow is Mother's day in my country. On this  day children demonstrate their love and gratitude to the person who gave birth to them, nurtured them and loved them the most.
No one ever can replace a mother. The bonds shared between a child and his mum are strong and special. Whatever problems occur in their relationship, one can never blame one's mother forever.

I was confessing to a Priest once that I was neglecting prayers and Church on Sunday, and I loved his reply as he said: "you're the mother of three children, that itself is the strongest prayer one can offer". He then explained to me that God has a very particular love for all mothers because of all the pain they go through all life long for their children. Be a good mother, You would be doing God's will.

Mothers shouldn't be celebrated once a year. Mothers are Life, and life is celebrated every single day.

Tomorrow is Mothers' day, first day of the Spring season, the flower season that brings warmth and smiles. For the last 10 years, since my mother joined Teta, it was a day of anger and sadness, this year it will be a day of gratitude and love.

I love you Mami. Thank you for all your sacrifices during 34 years of my life. Happy Mother's day! I will not try to ignore you this year. This time I will ask Teta to give you a Hug from me.


Thursday, March 15, 2012

I believe I can fly

I used to think that I could not go on
And life was nothing but a distrustful song
But now I know the meaning of true love
I'm leaning on the everlasting arms
If I can see it, then I can do it
If I just believe it, there's nothing to it

I believe I can touch the sky
I think about it every night and day
Spread my wings and fly away
I believe I can soar
I see me running through that open door
I believe I can fly

See I was on the verge of breaking down
Sometimes silence can seem so loud
There are miracles in life I must achieve
But first I know it starts inside of me
If I can see it, then I can be it
If I just believe it, there's nothing to it

I believe I can fly
I believe I can touch the sky
I think about it every night and day
spread wings and fly away
I believe I can soar
I see me running through that open door
I believe I can fly

hey'Cos I believe in you

If I can see it, then I can do it
If I just believe it, there's nothing to it

If I just spread my wings (I can fly)
I can fly (I can fly)
I can fly (I can fly)
I can fly (I can fly)

I have been told lately many times that I have changed, that I am different in a positive way. In fact, even when I reply by :"yes I did", it's only because I trust the people telling me so more than I trust my own perception.
Truth is that I am still  the same person I was. I didn't change, and I don't want to be any different. I like who I am. I chose to be the person I am, but what does need to change is my way of dealing with life's problems, my interests, my understandings and reactions.
This morning, I noticed the first big change in the way I look at life, what catches my attention . This revelation came through this beautiful song:"I believe I can fly".
Music has always been very important to me but I rarely understood the lyrics of English songs unless it just catches my attention and I search for them. The lyrics I used to look for are for songs like "killing me softly", "when I need you", "sorry seems to be the hardest word", etc. I was never tempted to search or even try to understand songs that are more positive, songs that would not make me cry. My mind would only focus on the music and ignore any positive energy the poet has put in his words.
This morning, "I believe I can fly" has made a big impact on me. Not only my mind focused on the lyrics, but I looked for them, meditated on them and loved them.

But now I know the meaning of true love....
If I can see it, then I can do it....

There are miracles in life I must achieve
But first I know it starts inside of me....

Those are the expressions I will focus on.

Tuesday, March 13, 2012

I need your love

I was commenting on a Blog post "what does family mean to you", and my answer was that my real family is now my online friends. I say this and repeat it always, but I still feel I can't really explain to what extent I mean it.
My blood family have known nothing about me since February 2011. They just believe the mask they see, and don't even try and ask. I know they discuss "me" among themselves, because I sometimes receive messages like: "I'm so happy to know things are great again at home" (no one asked if they were), or things like "what a good news you stopped your therapy" (why would that be good news, if you don't even care to ask why I stopped?). Two days ago, I was told; "I'm so glad you are not posting any status update on facebook, it was depressing me".
Anyways, that is only to explain why I feel more comfortable with my online friends. It's because they care and are not afraid to show it. They believe me even if they have no proof I am saying the truth. They say they love me, and dare to show it. They listen, understand, and don't blame or criticize. They fill my heart with smiles and love, and help me forget the sadness and tears.

My Online friends changed my life, they brought me back to life, but I still feel so alone sometimes. Something is still missing.
I had a very bad day and wished someone would keep me company. I felt very sick for the last two days, and so wished I had someone I could call :(
I am a much stronger person, so different, but I still need your love as I still feel lonely.
I need your love. You ALL have mine :)

Saturday, March 10, 2012

A letter to my Grandmother

Dear Teta Ida,
One Sunday, over 30 years ago, you told me something important.
You did not say a word … you just looked deeply into my thirteen year old eyes.
I understood every wordless word of that look, Teta.
You said it was now time.
You told me I would not see you alive again.
You told me you would be happy to go.
You gave me your undying love and support for the rest of my life.
You gifted me your clairvoyance, clairaudience and clairsentience.

I refused to go and see you until the 10th of March.
Papa came into our bedroom and asked my two sisters and I to pay attention because he had some bad news to tell us. Sitting beside me on the bed, He told us what I already knew …
“Teta Ida is now in Paradise; Nicole, be strong for your mum”
Without looking at me, he left the room and I heard him asking my cousin to look after me as I was expected to break down, then I heard my cousin telling my sisters to keep me company.
No one knew I had already said Goodbye to you, Teta.
I felt embarrassed about not bursting into tears, as they were all expecting, so I locked myself in the bathroom where I smiled and thought “ Teta, now that you are free, you will never abandon me again, you are my Guardian Angel”.

I didn’t sleep that night because, yes, I was sad in in pain, but my sadness wasn’t because of your loss. I was sad for Mami, my mother, and wondering how to explain to her that it’s better now, that you are happier where you are? I needed to hug her and explain to her, but you know how she was, don’t you? She never showed affection to anyone, although I am sure that she loved us all.
Teta, you accompanied me all those years, you gave me messages to deliver to everyone in the family. You asked me to take care of Jeddo (my grand father), and I did until the end. Taking care of him became my priority, and you said you were proud of me. You helped me every single day and never refused to give me a hand or advice, until that day, nine years later, the day I disappointed you, and decided I didn't deserve to have you in my life.
Since that day, the 10th of March became the most horrible in the whole year. I didn't lose you at 13, I lost you at 22. I suffered in silence, I struggled every single day. You tried to call me, but I was ashamed to answer. I was guilty and hated myself and my life.
I felt lonely, I WAS lonely.
Every year on the 10th of March, I planned to go to you to ask for forgiveness, I asked God and begged him to take me. When he didn't listen, I tried to do it myself, and felt worse thinking I was TOO bad to deserve to die.
Twenty years later, Teta, I have learned.
To open up.
To trust.
To receive.
To love, once more.
This year, Teta, you came back into my life.
Welcome home.

Thursday, March 8, 2012

Women, 2nd class human beings

Today is Women's Day!
Strangely, for the first time in my life, I find myself paying attention to this.
I was raised in a family where women are considered free and independent. I was very proud of that, when comparing my mother's life and my own to that of other women in this country.
Mum was allowed to work, she had her car, was always wearing nice fancy clothes, had friends and a social life "with dad".
That seemed for me just perfect.
Mum worked full time in the school across the street. Her day started at 6:00 am, and ended at midnight. Apart from her job, she had to do housework, cleaning, cooking, grocery shopping, children's homework, and receiving visitors. She never complained, and used to jump on her feet ready to serve my father before even listening to what he had to ask for.
At the age of 7, I was considered old enough to help. Housework was considered more important than studying. I was too small to reach the sink so I had to stand on a chair to wash the dishes. At the age of 10, I was cooking, baby sitting, serving at the table, and helping with my sisters. I could never do my homework before falling asleep, exhausted.
I used to see other kids playing and laughing while I was cleaning the windows, I used to hear my sisters arguing and having fun, while I was preparing lunch, using one hand and holding a book in the other.
I rarely complained, but when I did, the answer was:"you're a girl, and you're the eldest".
I honestly have no memories of my father ever entering the kitchen to fetch himself a glass of water. He never opened the closet to get a towel or prepare his own clothes. All those movies where men would help in the kitchen or care for the children illustrate a totally alien concept in my country. I would watch without understanding what I was seeing.
I blamed myself this morning when I mentioned that I used to criticize women requesting equality with men. I have been thinking of that all day long, but after all, it's not my fault? How would things be different, when I was raised as a 2nd class girl, and am treated now as an inferior slave? I thought this was Normal, the way it should be. I used to envy my mum for being so "free" she could ring a friend or go to bed before dad is home, without worrying about what he would do if he needs his cup of water and find her asleep?

This is not my situation alone. Unfortunately, a very large number of women in my region are treated the same. I consider myself luckier than others, because at least, I have a good job.
During the last few months, I have met many persons online, have done a lot of reading on different blogs, and have realized that being a woman is not as bad as they told us it is. I learned that being a woman is a privilege and not a punishment from God. I learned that if women have to go through a lot, it's because they are strong enough to handle it all.
I am a WOMAN, and I am PROUD.

Tuesday, March 6, 2012

I'd rather be.....

I'd rather be a sparrow than a snail.
Yes I would.
If I only could,
I surely would.

I'd rather be a hammer than a nail.
Yes I would.
If I only could,
I surely would. 

Away, I'd rather sail away
Like a swan that's here and gone
A man gets tied up to the ground
He gives the world
Its saddest sound,
Its saddest sound.

I'd rather be a forest than a street.
Yes I would.
If I only could,
I surely would. 

I'd rather feel the earth beneath my feet,
Yes I would.
If I only could,
I surely would. 
(Paul Simon/Jorge Milchberg)

Every morning while driving my children to school, one of the songs I listen to stays in my head, and can transport me to my Dreamland.
My dreamland is not limited by space nor time, it is a mixture of everything, reality, past, future and hopes.
This song above took me back to that little girl I was, who seemed wise for a few and weird for many others.
Adults ask children standard questions, i.e. “What would you like to be when you grow up?” or “Who do you love most?”
The standard answers from the children are “I want to be a teacher or a policeman“ “I love Mommy, Daddy or Grandma the most”

To question NR.1 my answer was always: I have no idea, it doesn't matter. I know what I don't want to be, because that is what matters. I don't want to be cruel, a liar, rude or disrespectful.  If I can avoid being those, that would be what I want to become. Family and profession are nothing except clothes you put on that sometimes hide who you truly are.

To the second question, my answer was that I love everyone the same. No one could understand how I can love strangers as much as I love my parents and especially for someone who was as categorical as I was. There was no middle for me, it was love or hate, but love was for everyone, no exceptions, and hate would only go to what a person does, not to the person herself.
I was called the devil's advocate. I still am. Everyone has his reasons. I understand.

Friday, March 2, 2012

Celebrating Her Birthday

For many years, the month of March has been characterized by  severe depression. Although it's not something I usually discuss, it was obvious to everyone around.
I have decided now to welcome March with Love instead of anxiety. Why worry about it before knowing what it will bring? Hello March, I'm ready!

Today is Her birthday. Today she will be 25. I have been waiting for this date since last year. I wanted it to be special. When she ended our friendship in June, I never thought that it would be for good, that she had made up her mind. Our friendship was so strong, I couldn't believe it was over.
Her decision caused me a lot of pain, her hurtful messages kept coming regularly for more than two months. I suffered, cried, got angry, frustrated. i begged and asked for forgiveness for whatever i might have done, but nothing would bring her back

I felt empty, abandoned and lonely. I felt betrayed. How could she abandon me while knowing what i am going through? This question was driving me crazy, so i sent a cry for help to a Facebook page Hold my Hand, and that was the beginning of a new life of true Love.
I was learning to let go, it has been very hard sometimes, memories were really painful, whether they were nice memories or bad ones, but with the love i was getting from my new friends and the help i was getting from the blogs i read, I have made a huge progress.

For her birthday today,  the choice is mine. I can decide to  feel angry, sad, depressed, or just decide to celebrate our friendship of 3 years.
Today I decide to smile and be happy. I won't let the hurt of few weeks delete the happiness of three years. The fact it is over doesn't mean it was all bad. we shared a lot, we cried and laughed, we helped each other, and learned from each other. Today i will celebrate all the lessons i have learned from her, and i will thank her for the love she showed, and the support and help she gave me.

Happy Birthday my Friend, I send you love and a virtual bouquet of your favorite tulips.
Today I am free, because today I let you go.....