I wanted to belong here
But something felt so wrong here
-Breakaway
No, I'm not one of those people who post song lyrics to explain every moments of their lives, but this is my first post, and I'm listening to Kelly Clarkson's Breakaway as I try to put my words down on here. I just felt like those two lines really relate to what I am about to talk about.
Me.
Since you and I are both new here, I thought I'd introduce myself, give you a reason to keep reading my blog, and give you a reason to believe that I really hope you find a friend in me.
Here's my story:
I am a writer. I love writing. I believe words run through my veins with my blood, dialogue is constantly on play in my head, and I could speak in metaphors all day if I wanted to. Really, try me. ;) Point is, I am a very figurative yet literal person. And when my life was forced to change, I used writing to help me get through it.
After my sophomore in high school, I moved away from the Middle East (where I'd been living after I moved from the US when I was 11) back to the states. And let me tell you why that wasn't easy. First of all, leaving my close childhood friends at 11 years old to go to a place halfway across the world was a lot for my little mind to take. It took me what seemed like forever to finally agree to be friends with the girls in my new school. It took me so long to accept that I had to get used to my life over there and stop thinking that if I cried a lot my parents would move me back to the US. Yeah, that wasn't happening.
Junior high, I finally had a group of friends I could call my own. I had opened up and started enjoying my life with my friends and I loved living closer to my aunts, uncles, and cousins. And right when things got really good, my parents told me we were going back after my sophomore year. Yeah, it's enough to make anyone angry. But I didn't do what I did when I was 11. I didn't make it seem like the end of the world. I had no expectations but one: that it might suck at first but I'd get used to it like I eventually had before. It was all a process. Besides, who stays in one place forever?
So here I was, a Palestinian girl wearing a headscarf in the middle of America at the age of 16 with zero friends. Hard wouldn't describe how I felt. But I can sum up my life after the move in two little words: HIGH SCHOOL.
I was the new girl. But not just any new girl. I was the new different girl from the other side of the planet. Sound like a mouthful, I know, but that was me. And people would be surprised how much I actually did struggle. I felt like whenever anyone looked at me they were looking at my scarf, that they were secretly saying something about me in the back of their mind, either calling me a "terrorist" or wondering why the heck I was wearing that scarf in the hot weather.
But you know what happened?
I got used to it. I always learned to be myself, and even when times got tough, it was really hard to even pretend to not be myself. And you know what? People respected me for that. I made real genuine friends that are still my friends who I am thinking about as I am typing this. They let me in and I opened up to them. Got any questions? Okay, well I've got answers. The better they knew me, the more I knew they could accept me and make me feel like I belong, because I felt like I deserved to belong.
What was different about me? That I lived in a different country, wear a headscarf, and follow a different religion?
Well, guess what? It's the 21st century, and if you can't be your own individual, then what is left for there to be in the world?
And that's working out great for me. :)
Until we meet again
-Wishful Dreamer
But something felt so wrong here
-Breakaway
No, I'm not one of those people who post song lyrics to explain every moments of their lives, but this is my first post, and I'm listening to Kelly Clarkson's Breakaway as I try to put my words down on here. I just felt like those two lines really relate to what I am about to talk about.
Me.
Since you and I are both new here, I thought I'd introduce myself, give you a reason to keep reading my blog, and give you a reason to believe that I really hope you find a friend in me.
Here's my story:
I am a writer. I love writing. I believe words run through my veins with my blood, dialogue is constantly on play in my head, and I could speak in metaphors all day if I wanted to. Really, try me. ;) Point is, I am a very figurative yet literal person. And when my life was forced to change, I used writing to help me get through it.
After my sophomore in high school, I moved away from the Middle East (where I'd been living after I moved from the US when I was 11) back to the states. And let me tell you why that wasn't easy. First of all, leaving my close childhood friends at 11 years old to go to a place halfway across the world was a lot for my little mind to take. It took me what seemed like forever to finally agree to be friends with the girls in my new school. It took me so long to accept that I had to get used to my life over there and stop thinking that if I cried a lot my parents would move me back to the US. Yeah, that wasn't happening.
Junior high, I finally had a group of friends I could call my own. I had opened up and started enjoying my life with my friends and I loved living closer to my aunts, uncles, and cousins. And right when things got really good, my parents told me we were going back after my sophomore year. Yeah, it's enough to make anyone angry. But I didn't do what I did when I was 11. I didn't make it seem like the end of the world. I had no expectations but one: that it might suck at first but I'd get used to it like I eventually had before. It was all a process. Besides, who stays in one place forever?
So here I was, a Palestinian girl wearing a headscarf in the middle of America at the age of 16 with zero friends. Hard wouldn't describe how I felt. But I can sum up my life after the move in two little words: HIGH SCHOOL.
I was the new girl. But not just any new girl. I was the new different girl from the other side of the planet. Sound like a mouthful, I know, but that was me. And people would be surprised how much I actually did struggle. I felt like whenever anyone looked at me they were looking at my scarf, that they were secretly saying something about me in the back of their mind, either calling me a "terrorist" or wondering why the heck I was wearing that scarf in the hot weather.
But you know what happened?
I got used to it. I always learned to be myself, and even when times got tough, it was really hard to even pretend to not be myself. And you know what? People respected me for that. I made real genuine friends that are still my friends who I am thinking about as I am typing this. They let me in and I opened up to them. Got any questions? Okay, well I've got answers. The better they knew me, the more I knew they could accept me and make me feel like I belong, because I felt like I deserved to belong.
What was different about me? That I lived in a different country, wear a headscarf, and follow a different religion?
Well, guess what? It's the 21st century, and if you can't be your own individual, then what is left for there to be in the world?
And that's working out great for me. :)
Until we meet again
-Wishful Dreamer
Salaamu alaikum wishful, I just started reading ur blog, and I totally relate to ur situation because I lived a very similar scenario! So yeah, just wanted to say that I love what ur doing and good luck with it! I think I'm gonna keep reading:)
ReplyDeleteThank you dreamer! I just saw this comment, I am very sorry. Your comment means a lot to me! I'm glad you're enjoying my blog! :)
ReplyDelete