Mirror Mirror

By: Esraa

Y’all! It’s Freaking 2018. Why the heck is time flying like it’s on fire. Someone put this out!
It’s in moments like this where I think back to the past couple years in my life and reflect on how much I’ve changed, and all the challenges I have overcome. Man, I freaking grew up. These past three years have been the worst and the best of times of my life, but I can’t regret a single second of them. How can I? I finally look in that mirror, and I’m proud of the women reflected. There is a light that radiates in the eyes that were once so dull and sad. A smile that fills her face (literally it’s too big) that reflects that true happiness within, no longer a façade. This woman no longer cares to fill the norm society placed upon her she has found peace with who she is. I look at her, and I see hope, determination, a feisty attitude, and the will to overcome all of life’s obstacles.

This blog is probably one of the hardest I have written, and it’s taken me about three months to feel like I’m entirely able to express my thoughts in a matter that’s true to me but also beneficial to others. Its broken down into a few posts that will follow one another. If you have been reading this long, you know that I don’t hold back in my writing and opinions and I’m going to say it how it is. There is no intention to offend or hurt anyone but just the raw, honest reality of what my last three years have been. There is real hope in being able to come out of that dark hole that can entirely overtake you and into the lighten city of life. The hard reality is that truly and honestly, it’s all mental. The key is overcoming yourself, your limitation, and that little effing voice telling you-you’re not enough. It’s the will to stop allowing the people around you shape you into someone you don’t know or want to be. When the moment comes where everyone is telling you who or what to be, and you’re standing there like who the heck am I, what the hell do I even want? Stop! Press the damn breaks, get out of the car and just, stop.
These are the feelings I had in my last year of undergrad, overwhelmed, angry, depressed, lost. You wouldn’t know it if you saw me as I walked through campus making small talk, as I taught religious classes, hung out with my friends, laughing and joking. However, to me, this woman, was slowly dying. Balancing 21 credits as you ran a student organization and working isn’t any piece of cake, I burned out. President of the Muslim Student organization I had obligations to this group I had to upkeep, but how much do you owe something that was only bringing you misery? I gave up so much of my time to something just in the end to get unrightfully accused of cheating, dictatorship, and inequality in treatment. Was it worth the friend I lost in the process? I sacrificed sleep, my school, my family, my friends. I don’t blame anyone but myself because I chose to do this. That same way I decided to put myself in this position I was going to take myself out. Resigning from MSA was the start of retaking control of my life. I needed a break, quiet, and peace to fight this inner battle going on within my mind. I was walking through this life on autopilot; I had no idea who I was any more or where I wanted to go. I woke up every morning not even knowing when the day started or ended. Everyone was giving me a title that wasn’t me. Everyone wanted something from me I couldn’t do. The issue was I didn’t know that I wanted, or more accurately I was afraid to admit it.
As graduation neared the stress to apply for Grad school was building. I had committed to pursuing Physical Therapy, but within me, I knew I couldn’t. The balance to make my parents proud and figuring out what would make me happy was taking its toll. How do you tell your parents you aren’t going to do what you talked about for three years? How do you tell them that you don’t know what or where you’re going but that you need a break? How do I face my parents who all I want is to make proud and tell them all their dreams for me weren’t going to happen? The pride that filled their voice when they spoke to others about what I was studying. I was going to take that away. The promises I made, I was going to break that. But I wasn’t happy, isn’t that all parents want? If I went down this road and pursued my masters in PT, I knew that I would continue to lose myself and in the end, I would stand with a degree, and I still wouldn’t be proud of the women reflected. Countless nights I went sleepless as I pushed through my exams, thinking and pondering what to do. I retracted from all my friends my social health taking a hit, my mental well-being fried, and my physical being beyond a mess. Was this all worth it so that I can do what others want of me? No. It was time to Stop. It was time to figure out “What does Esraa want?”.
I remember the many I got into my car and drove the 2 hours from Cleveland to Pittsburgh talking to myself the whole way on how to approach my parents about taking a gap year. Six times I made this drive backing out every single darn time. Every time I went, my mom would ask me about my application, and I would feel guilty and deter. Every time my dad would call me Dr. and I would cringe. I had to bite the bullet; they would love me no matter what, right? All they want is my happiness at the end. I finally drew the nerve on my sixth drive down. This talk was one of the hardest things I have ever done, but it shaped the next two years of my life. It was the first honest and real conversation I ever had with my parents. I established my tone and position. I wasn’t asking, I was telling. I respect and love my parents, but at the end of the day, it was my spiritual, mental and physical health that was getting ruined. It was my sanity and future that I would have to face and overcome. The resistance was prominent as voices raised, tears shed, and reality was finally accepted. Five grueling hours later we reached a compromise, one year off, work on myself, gain experience in my field, reapply the following year. Only the first two parts of this plan I agreed with, I had no intentions of going back into this program. The small battle within me was forming, my heart telling me to be honest, my mind telling me to take the deal, and you will figure it out as you go. This dishonesty with myself and parents would soon come to bite me hard.
Graduation came, bags were packed goodbyes were said, and I moved to Pittsburgh PA with my parents. In my head, I had this unrealistic reality of jumping right into my spiritual and health journey it would all be amazing no work or school. The fact was entirely different. It took me some time to adjust to the new life I was living. I lived a whole year alone, on my time and schedule. I had never lived alone with my parents, to have all their attention was overwhelming. I decided to go to California for a month with my cousins, get away from it all, put myself out of my comfort and start my journey. This decision was the start of it all and what lead me to where I am today, a happier and healthier person. With the help of my cousin, I learned the tools to help me succeed, I came back joined a gym near our home and began taking care of Esraa. I stopped teaching Islamic courses at the masjid and became a student. I pushed people away, as I tried to figure out where I belonged and who I was. I traveled, visiting my siblings and built lasting bonds.
This year off wasn’t easy by any means, tested in so many ways I nearly almost gave up, but the inner warrior would tell me to get up again. Try one more time. Every day I got stronger. The year off was nearing an end the pressures were coming back. Did you apply to grad school? Are you going to trick us again? Will you be breaking your promise, still? My mother’s questions were like a knife stabbing away at my heart. I discovered that I couldn’t overcome who was in this year because a big mountain was on my shoulders with the dishonesty I was carrying in my heart. I didn’t want to do PT school; I didn’t want to go grad school at all. The feelings I had in undergrad were not pleasing and encouraging, why put myself through that again. Was I ready to disappoint my parents again?
I am the kind of person who guilt eats them alive, this year off was great I overcame a lot, but I still didn’t like this woman reflected. She wasn’t honest. Held back from the guilt I was feeling; I was scared to disappoint and break their hearts again. Why was I feeling guilty to pursue something I knew wasn’t right for me? Why was I always feeling undeserving, and inadequate? I knew they would never accept me saying that wouldn’t do masters at all, so I had to figure out exactly what was it that I enjoyed and wanted to do. Day in and day out I sat searching and comparing, praying and seeking. PowerPoint in hand I presented to my parents my plan, online masters in healthcare administration. I would remain in Pittsburgh have the freedom and time to pursue my travels, workout, get a job and gain experience. I wasn’t doing PT, last and final this was my choice, and I would be the one who had to live by it. It’s never easy to see the disappointment reflected in the eyes of your parents, especially my mother who is my world. I had to harden my heart, and take this step that I believed would finally free me from the guilt I felt. To finally tell it how it was released me, it was like the breath your holding onto finally freaking let go. It’s like the weight your holding finally drops. I was free. I never thought how much this was holding me back, but damn was I shackled.

I don’t encourage going against your parent’s wishes that’s not my message here at all. This moment was a time in life where I had to think of me and the choices that would make me happy. I had to ask myself, Can I live the rest of my life with these decisions? Were these choices truly mine? My every aspiration is to honor and respect my parents and to make them proud of the women they raised. Wouldn’t I do that more when I was healthy and happier with my choices? Wouldn’t I make them proud after I was proud of me? How can you make someone else happy when you’re miserable?
If I wanted them to treat me like an adult I had to act like one, I planned and thought out every moment. None of this happened in a rash. For months, I spoke with close and trusted friends, sharing my struggles getting their thoughts and advice. Countless nights went sleepless as I prayed for God to guide me towards what is best for my earthly and heavenly life.
This piece is long enough, and there is so much more to this journey that I have taken and hoped to share with you all. This blog is part one of my journey the pieces to follow will hit more in-depth specific topics. Today I share with you all the hardest part of it all, being honest with yourself, and in turn, honest with others. I was a shell of the women I am now. Whenever someone would try to tell me how good I was, I just wanted to laugh hysterically because I felt like an utter hypocrite. I would sit and give an Islamic lecture, and my heart was dead. I would smile in your face, and within me I was sad, I could listen to you talk and not hear a word. Was this person someone I wanted to be? Would I always keep putting others first and forgetting that I owed myself the same chance? Was anyone going to be there for me when I know found myself lost? Here I was lost, and no one even noticed, no one asked, no one truly cared. It wasn’t their fault, I learned I was one hell of an actor. Oscar award, please. As long as the smile was there, as long as Esraa was always doing doing doing, she was alright. I would look at pictures of myself and see the dull sadness in my eyes. I would hang out with my friends and wanna crawl out of my skin. Who was this woman, what was she doing?!
That long look in the mirror I had in 2015 lead me to this long look I am having right now. The difference is mountains apart. This Women she is no longer lost. She found herself and is on the road to inner happiness and content. I’m at a point where I am proud of the women I am. I am happy with my choices I have made; I wouldn’t take a single thing back. I look at my parents, and my connection with them is one to envy (Masha Allah Walhamdullah). I finally feel that I am deserving of good to come, Insha Allah. I now know that I will raise their heads and always make them proud. That right there is worth every struggle and hardship I have and will ever go through.