Lessons From My Father - Part 1

 My parents were divorced when I was 10.

My second sister was 8

Nonot was not even a year old.

Being a Muslim, I believe that it has been written in my Qada’ and Qadar.

Being a child , I believe that my dad is a bad guy and someday will end up in hell

Being the eldest daughter, I believe responsibility does not comes with age. It comes with tragedy.

Yes. the divorce is a tragedy. That was the first time.

My parents tried to patch things up and work the relationship once again. But, like I said, it has been written that they wont grow old together. And so, when I was 12. Mom and Dad stopped trying. 

I remember when I was 10, I was playing with the kids from my neighbourhood, when a girl said

“My mom said, your parents is getting a divorce”

I look at her and said ” And how is this your business?” I stopped playing and went home.

The next day, my dad was at home - visiting (he no longer stayed with us- the day he discovered a bitch he called girlfriend). I brought him to the play ground and told him to his face.

“This girl said you and mom is getting a divorce”

My dad stopped smiling- the girl ran home. - I smiled.

If there’s anyone should take the humiliation and the pain- it should not be me. And did I mentioned I was just 10? 

Did I ever mentioned that i was my father’s chid? Or at least I thought I was. He wanted a son, but end up having 3 daughters, so I was trained to be tough and strong. I played with toy guns and boxing gloves instead of barbie dolls. In my head, I was  a perfect child being able to be both daughter for my mom and a son for my father.

Unfortunately I was wrong. If my parents divorce is as hot as the late Lady D’s, a press statement from my dad would sound something like this

“I need a son- something she has failed to give me”

and a press statement from my mom said

” He is sleeping with a bitch!!!”

I am not proud of my family history. But I am proud of having one functional family when my dad is no longer around. Yes, life was hard, because there are times he purposely FORGOT to reserve some money for our daily expenses. But I couldn’t complain much could I? 

I wrote letters to him and send him eid cards every year. Most of the time I wrote

” it has been 4 years since you left us…”

then

“it has been 5 years…

then..

“it has been 6 years..”

until one day I lost count and decided to stop writting.  Why? Because, he will only cry when he is lonely, not when he is surrounded by his girlfriends. He moved on. Why shouldn’t I? He didn’t even count the days he left his family. Why should I?

And so, I stopped writting. 

 

Lesson 1:

I am not good enough! And never will be