Kids and why I don't like them

Children, they take over your whole world. Literally. They are everywhere. Until you have given birth to a child, you wouldn't really know how it is possible to lose complete control over your adult life to these tiny little beings who are so dependent on you. You can't ever appreciate what it feels like to be up all night, rocking a colicky kid back to sleep.

Nope, it's not possible to understand how your heart-strings are wrapped around little fingers that can pull, push, shove you into directions you never thought you would go to. That a hug can mean so much and a tear so much more. That a child in a park, calling out "ma" can make you turn around and look ... even though you know damn well that your own little one is not there with you. Not only do you become more protective of your own but you become protective of other's kids too. You look out for the little beings, alert even when you are asleep. A tiny rustle and you'll awake in a heart beat, fully alert to any need that may be expressed.

That's what becoming a parent does to you. And that's why I don't like kids. They worm their way into your heart and then stay there for the rest of their lives. They'll grab hold of you the day they are born and hold your heart in their chubby hands till the day you die. No matter how strong you are, you will cry over the things that hurt your child. You will find new strength and weaknesses and your whole being will get redefined. You might not even recognize yourself. You will find the normally coherent, intelligent, articulate you, making incoherent cooing sounds and talking in incomprehensible undecipherable languages.

Don't fight the process... I have found that it's quite useless to fight the inevitable.

I liked myself just fine back then before I had my kid. My money was my own, my time was my own, I slept whenever I wanted and as long as I wanted and ate whatever I fancied. I wasn't worrying about balanced diet, micro-nutrient, growth spurts, development milestones. I made more money then I could spend and I had all the time in the world for everything  that I wanted to do. My clothes were always clean, my hair was glossy and perfect, my house was picturesque and everything always remained where it was placed.

Let me be clear on something - I was never one of those women who felt that 2.5 kid and white picket fence was my destination in life. Nope. I dreamt of traveling down the amazon river, of living with a tribe of Mauri's in New Zealand or the Masai's in Kenya. I didn't dream of having kids and I certainly never liked them much. They are grubby, messy, loud little beings who always make their presence known and are usually hell-bent on getting what they want. I never wanted to sign up for having one of those little monsters that keep getting underfoot until you are so busy keeping yourself upright that you lose sight of everything else in life. I certainly didn't plan on having kids.

That is not until I thought I was in love with my ex-husband and found myself ecstatic to be having a baby with him. But wait... it didn't happen. Not the first time, not the 2nd or even the 4th time. He wasn't ready for the responsibility and I wasn't allowed to have control over my own fertility because birth control pills would make me fat, ruin my figure. So by the time my 5th pregnancy came around in as many years after marriage, I certainly wasn't rooting to have a kid. I wasn't looking forward to bearing the successor of the tribe I was married to and (back then had thought) would have to remain married to for the rest of my life.

But I had a child.

And he became my child.

Over the years, through all those sleepless nights, something happened. Something clicked and we were each others.

Now I am glad that I had my son. No matter how far apart we are. No matter how little we see of each other. We belong to each other, through the time and space continuum. We would forever belong to each other. He would always be my flesh & blood and I would always be his mom.

We might not always understand each other. It might take him decades to realize that I wasn't absent from his life by choice, that I didn't move out of his life because I treasured my own more. Someday when he has kids, I hope he'll understand and let his kids make the decisions that would be right for them, under those circumstances. I hope he'll understand that I love him so much that I would give my life for him. I hope he'll understand that loving him was my life. And giving in was as hard as draining every single drop of blood from myself.

And after that death, when the question of living, of carrying on came... I still thought of him. I am a warrior, I cannot give up, I cannot lose, I cannot lay down by the wayside and go to waste. What sort of example would that be to the little one whom I wish would have much more courage? How would that show him that life is for living? That every time life knocks you down, you just shake yourself up and get off your knees again? That life and living is much more than just passing days?

I am still searching, seeking meaning of a life that I am now bound to live for myself. Everyday I am free again, to design my own course, set my own destination. To journey to wherever my heart takes me, to achieve anything that I can dream of. But through out all these, I take him with me. I take the realization that no matter what.... we will always affect each others life. That it will never again be only me or only him, but forever 'us'.

Shayan & Me

I see dead people... all the time

DHAKA, BANGLADESH

Most women I know seem to be leading a life of quiet desperation. Maybe it extends to the men too. But I mentioned women in particular because I see in their eyes the hopelessness that comes after struggling unsuccessfully for years. Some accept it, some can’t. Those who can accept it, becomes resigned to the fact that their life is not going to change or get any better. Those who can’t – suffer in silence, depressed, desperate for change with no idea of where to start to change their lives. After years of gaslighting and having their dreams trampled on, some quietly give up. It is these silent deaths that bother me.

These are the dead people I see ALL the time.

These people who are walking, talking, living among us but inside they are dead. They are dead to the beauty of the moments, they are dead to the aspirations in their heart. They live in a dreamless, passionless state, moving from one day to the next. They exist on auto-pilot, they do things because they have to. They work because they need the money, not because they discovered the work that sets their passion, their self on fire, inspiring them to build a career out of it. They cook because they have a family to feed. They get married and manage to stay married for years because that’s what is expected from them.

They live by everyone else’s expectations except their own. They live to serve, their families, their parents, their husbands, their kids. They serve everyone their best. Everyone that is except themselves. They have bought into the brainwashing that to think for yourself is too radical, to want to live your best life is selfish. Their identities, their self is tied to the act of being a good daughter, sister, wife, mother… the self doesn’t exist as an individual.

During my teenage years, I used to read a lot of Danielle Steel’s books and one book in particular made a very strong impression on me – ‘Star”. Maybe because in the struggles of the central character I saw a reflection of my own struggles. “If you are a peacock living among sparrows, then your exotic nature will be misunderstood and envied and you will be stripped off your feathers until you resemble the sparrows you live with”. You cannot deny your inner self because it lives in your unconsciousness, it shines through in the way you hold yourself, in the way you speak about yourself, in the way you treat yourself and allow others to treat you. But for those who have forsaken their dreams, to see others want to do more is dangerous, too radical, it is an impulse that must be stifled at the very beginning.

I stopped reading Mills & boons and other such books when I realized that I am being fed a steady diet of princess in distress and white knight to the rescue theme. No one was going to come through the door, charging in to slay the dragon and un-shackle me, reality stated that I had to do it myself. Yet, I didn’t learn my lesson, not until after I have already lived for years like a zombie myself. I was walking, talking, still laughing but inside I was dead. Quietly desperate, I was dying a little death everyday but I wasn’t yet at the bottom of the abyss. I wasn’t dead because apparently it seemed that I had everything that a woman could want. Then 2 of my best friends chose to end their life and I made several attempts to end mine when I felt that I had no choice but to live buried in a coffin of societal appropriateness, screaming inside my head for the rest of my life.

To state that those were not easy times would be a gross understatement but would I go back and change any of that? No.

I am glad that I reached that stage. I am glad that I had to walk through the valley of death. I am glad that I had hit rock bottom, several times. Instead of lazy easy Sundays that melt into the week that follows, I am glad that every breath I drew filled me with anguish. That it had hurt so much to breathe that it was impossible to imagine that I would or could continue to live like a zombie. I couldn’t do it. So I changed. My circumstances didn’t change. I changed.

I sat down and listed the pros and cons of my life. The things I could live with and the things that I had to change so I could sleep, eat, breathe without hurting all the time. I listed all the dead dreams that wouldn’t lay buried and were stinking up my consciousness with their putrid flavor, seeping into every pore, invading every cell like a cancer that wouldn’t stop spreading. I went hunting for the pieces of my soul that had gone missing over the years. I started to search for myself.

Along the way, I made a lot of different lists. Points that would act as the sign posts along my journey to self discovery and self empowerment. These lists that I made, I had them printed out and hanged over my desk, over my computer, on my dresser mirror so that I would be reminded constantly of the need to live my OWN life, on my own terms, doing the things that would make me a better me with every passing day. I took on a more active role, I started collecting mentors… sounds funny? Trust me, when you envy someone it’s because they have something that you want. Realize what “that” is, then find it, develop it, fake it till you make it, do whatever it takes until you acquire the ‘thing’ what you admire in others. My mentors, my teachers, have aided me in my journey, enriched my life and taught me invaluable lessons. My son is my biggest inspiration to live my life to the fullest, because I AM setting an example for him. Together or apart, I will always have an influence over the way he will view life and the choices he’ll make along the way.

I also learnt to stop procrastinating. I learnt to make decisions, take decisions, get comfortable with the act of making decisions based on the current circumstances and then changing them, if needed, when situations change. Even today, every decision that I face, I stop and ask myself how I would feel about it, a week from now, a month from now, 6 months onwards would I even remember it? how much would it impact me? Everything has an opportunity cost, so the price that I would have to pay, would that be worth it? Sometimes I am restless for a couple of days or a couple of hours, until I reach the decision that I can live with and then I go for it. Full fledged, no holds barred, living my BEST life with every single decision, every single day. I have been saying it for a few years now and I laugh every time I say this…. but this right now is THE best time of my life. There is no other point of time in my life that I would EVER want to go back to because I am loving where I am now.

So when I see all these zombies walking through life, I feel like shaking them awake. Literally. I see my friends and I keep encouraging them to find the courage to live their own life. Sometimes I get frustrated, then I stop and I smile to myself. Someday  when they are ready, life will come knocking and they will respond. They will shake themselves awake and they will go out searching for their best self 

Violence against women

DHAKA, BANGLADESH

That is the headline that caught my eye today when I opened the newspaper. The content is nothing new, at least not in our culture where subjugating women is deeply embedded in our tradition and social structure. The article was focused on education and how lack of quality, quantity, access to education and lack of gender relation is keeping us stuck in this cycle of violence.

Is it really only that?

The article specifically mentioned 2 women. Romana was studying for her PhD in Canada, came back to Bangladesh to visit her husband & daughter. The husband, an unemployed failed engineering student, lives with her parents with their daughter while the wife is the one who works, supports and eventually managed to go abroad for her education. Romana's eyes were gouged out, she has lost permanent vision in one eye while retaining partial vision in another and her nose was bitten off by the so called 'husband'. But was that really the start? Domestic violence doesn't start suddenly and since she lives with her family, they must have noticed previous altercation between this pair. But no one took any action until this day when she paid the price of an eye and a nose.

The other case is that of Hawa Akhter, 21 who was tied up, her mouth taped shut and her right hand fingers chopped off by her husband. Her crime was that she had insisted on pursuing a college education. Was her husband's brutality really a total surprise? Was his family not aware of what he plans to do? or how he would react? Had they not heard her scream or plea for help?

We blame the men in the society for the things that happen to woman.

Well... I am going to blame the women instead. We MUST accept responsibility for our failure in being the   mother who fails to instill respect in her son for women. We MUST accept responsibility for being the silent family member who watch such atrocities occur within the four walls of our home and then counsel the victim to keep quiet for fear of what others, as in society, will say.

WE make up society. We do. Therefore it is each of our responsibility to take action, to take charge, to change the things that we want to change. We cannot sit within our four walls, condoning such brutality & violence with our silence.

We need to speak up. We need to stop this violence ourselves. And when we know that our father, brother, husband or son is capable of such brutality, we need to be the one's who watch out and the one who reports them. IF we sit down, silently and watch their brutality on our own kind, then who the hell are we to complain about experiencing violence in our society?

And since a picture is worth a thousand words:

 

PATTERNS - or a chaotic foreword

WARSAW, POLAND

The idea of creating a Transcontinental Sisters blog dedicated to the problem of discrimination of women based on sex in which women from different parts of the world would exchange both their problems, experiences and applicable solutions came up to my mind over a month ago. I shared it with various women from Poland, Bangladesh, USA and Spain and was welcome with warmth and enthusiasm. And after that I got silent. I was dreaming about beautiful initial post with many quotations and references to literature. But all the time I was missing something, I felt I needed to read more, find some fragments that were stuck in my head.  And I was writing down sentences without knowing how to make them into a whole.
That is why I decided to open this blog not with a sublime essay but with slightly chaotic confession related to the matter which has made me irritated and anxious for last few days. It is a question of patterns.

A bit over two months ago I got back from a private trip to Asia. I had been saving up for this for a year by working at a few places at the time and denying myself everyday pleasures. I had a goal in front of me and nothing else mattered. Probably that was the reason why regular grumbling of my surrounding was imperceptible for me. But I got back. I entered my reality again. And then it started.
Why won’t you change job? Why aren’t you looking for an additional job/ Why aren’t you making a PHD? Why don’t you want to become an accountant? You should start thinking of your future. Get out of your house, meet men, start building up something permanent. You are not getting any younger, soon younger people will get your position. I love you, why don’t you want to marry me?
Or in  more official manner:
You should start thinking of pregnancy, it’s the best age to give birth. Pills which I am going to give you are expensive but you have to force your partner to share the costs of contraceptives. Don’t you think that a more elegant style would suit you better? As a woman you shall have not only debit card but also a credit one - no one needs to know what you spend your money at and everybody knows that women love shopping.
Or more in a more general one:
All women dream about white dress and church. The wedding where everybody gets drunk is not important at all.

I feel like howling. First time since the beginning of January I really want to hawl. Because my current life suits me. I like it. I have close people around me. My house is always open. And there are friends and newcomers in it. There is lot’s of joy and happiness.
I do not want to get married. I do not dream about church because I am an atheist and I simply look awful in white. If I was to get married most important for me would be a good party. But so far I am not even in mood for relationships. I by my peels myself because I do not want anyone to interfere in my choices, plus - who said I have only one permanent partner?! I am scared of babies. I do not build anything fixed because I value my independence and a bit of unknown hidden in the future. If i make plans, I make them to have something to modify. I hate shopping unless I am buying books or plane tickets. I do not dream about PHD but of postgraduate studies absolutely not related to my hereto engineering education. And my work allows me to travel and do many other things which is important for me although I would like to earn more. And the only thing that bothers me and disturbs in realization of my small and big goals are those never-ending questions. And one question that I ask myself - do man also hear so many of them?

In modern society which seems to be lucking traditional division of sexes women still play particular roles. They move on a restricted area surrounded by phrases like “it’s not proper for a woman to”, “at this age woman should”, “it’s not polite if a lady”. How many times have we heard our own mothers (most of whom love us and repeats those things for our own good) using all those words? How many times have we been asking ourselves “should I”? I have the feeling that it happened way more often than to our brothers, fathers, lovers, partners or colleagues...

This abundance of questions was one of the first impulses which made me start this blog and ask women with beautiful minds to join me...
And the first question I want to ask you - readers of I hope both sexes - is: “What kind of unwanted roles do you play in life?”

The date of publishing of this first post is naturally not accidental. Today we celebrate International Women’s Day. The holiday of us all no matter where we are from, who we are and if our femininity is important to us or not. And on this occasion i wish all the women the moment to find and define in themselves the patterns which make them unable to fully realize themselves. Because that is the first step towards personal freedom...

I WISH YOU ALL THE FEMININE!

Aleksandra Peszkowska