Search

Bedoor Bluemoon

Everyday writing to expose the soul

Category

Personal

Life as a Fraud- Inferiority Complex

Fraud

inferiority-Complex.jpg

They say confidence is key.  Key to what, I wonder as I put on my beige dress.  Here I am getting ready to graduate at the top of my class from a great university and I still wonder how did I get here?  I never thought I was the sharpest tool in the box (is that how the saying goes?) and I never really did so great in school; and yet I got accepted in the state university on a full scholarship.  I remember joking with the counselor who insisted I apply for the scholarship telling me that I was a great student and all universities would love to have me.  I thought he was joking but I got nudged into it by my mom who held the camera as I played the violin.  I missed a few notes but didn’t feel like redoing the whole thing, so I sent in the tape with all the mistakes.

A few months later, I got the acceptance letter and felt ecstatic.  Scared, but happy.  Then my complex kicked in: am I as good as they think I am?  Am I really worth the money they’d be throwing away?

I walked around campus those four years trying to keep to myself most of the time but it was evident that things cannot go unnoticed.  My high grades got me on the honors roll and I was turned into one of the university teaching assistants and library buddy.  I was also playing the violin in university performances and was given awards for “best performance” and “Classical music guru”.  Yet I kept wondering what they see in me.  What can they see that I can’t?

When things go against my will, I understand.  I live in that unknown and thrive in knowing nobody is watching.  Then I excel, and everybody watches… and I start questioning.

Am I a fraud?  Am I an illusionist who has everyone scammed into believing I am made of something that I am not?

Then I look around, and see people who have accomplished less than I have, look half as good as I do, and are less talented but who are booming with confidence.  I choose to keep quiet in seminars, even though I know the answers before anyone raises their hand.  I try to live in the shadows of my doubt, to live behind those who are in their fuschia and turquoise dresses, screaming for attention.  I choose to stay in the shadows where only those who are looking for perfection would find me, could find me.  They would take me out, polish me a bit, and stand in awe at who I am.

And then, as I stand glistening in the sun, I will still wonder if I’m a real diamond… or a fraud.

Advertisements

Scars and Stretch Marks

tattoo

Many people prefer to hide their scars and stretchmarks not keeping in mind that they make us who we are.  We are all born the same: an empty canvas which awaits what life brings upon us and which can be showcased to our grandchildren.  Yes, scars remind us of the times we learned and stretchmarks remind us of the times we grew.

Scars.

Physical scars from childhood reminding us not to take that route,  not to climb that tree, and not to play with those kids.  Physical scars from adulthood reminding us not to take that route (yes, again), not to forget the seat belt, and not to talk to that guy.  Emotional scars from childhood and during adulthood reminding us that best friends may change, boyfriends may cheat, and loved ones may die.  Scars that represent lessons in life, that tell a story of where we have been and where we once longed to be.  Scars tattooed all over our bodies and souls making us human.

Scars that cannot be covered.

And stretchmarks.  Representing the times we changed and grew: gaining weight after high school, losing weight when you realize that weight you gained was a bit too much, growing less confident, growing more confident, pregnancy and motherhood, changing what we believe, changing who we believe, changing who we are.  All those changes are changes to our skin and our minds.  Not accepting to change means that we are made out of stone and are no humans.  Not all change is evident but a simple change makes a big difference in our humanity.

 

I do not wish to hide my scars nor my stretchmarks.  On the contrary, I wish to show everyone all my wounds, to show how alike we are and how human we can be.  I accept the lessons in my life and thank the growth that they brought upon me: work less, love more, and be gentle.

Dignify our Elders

Dignify

image

When you think of old age, you either think of someone else or of a funny meme you saw online of an elder doing something funny or technology related which, in your opinion, is purely cute or basically obscene.  It is never that we think that we, one day, will be old in our age and will have to consider how the younger generation perceives us.

You see, how old you are in your mind varies from one person to the next.  I always saw myself as a late teenager/early twenties person.  My sister always perceived herself as she were, and a friend of mine saw herself as an older person.  (In Your Mind, How Old Are You?)

It is not a joke when you start having grey hair.  Thank you, mom, for the great genes (yaay).  It is also not a joke when you get diagnosed with high blood pressure, kidney stones, diabetes, heart conditions, and all the fun stuff that are pointing towards the way life is flying by.  This is not a post to make you seize the moment, by all means, carpedium all day.  This is a post for you to consider those elders in your lives and what they feel.

Their bodies are not as strong as they used to be.  Imagine how that would make you feel?  They can’t see as well, start losing a bit of hearing, and some start forgetting words.

No.  It’s not very dignified.

And we come in, all young and stupid acting like we know best.  Some have lived through wars, seen how life changes, lost loved ones and families, and yet we come in, all young and stupid acting like we know best.  Acting like our limited knowledge of how smart phones work gives us the power to know.

No.

It doesn’t.

Just because they ask us how to download their emails or they believe everything they see on social media doesn’t make them any less.  It makes them more.

They are pure in heart, pure in soul.  Lived longer and seen more.  Wiser, warmer, and much better than we ever will be.  And we will only know their worth when they are gone.

God bless our loved elders who still have patience in all our foolishness and childishness.

Dignify your elders and you will be dignified.

Shimmer- Makeup Trends

Shimmer

I remember back in middle school when over the summer holidays we were blessed with oily skin and growth spurts.  Sadly, my name didn’t come up in the “Growth Spurt” list but I was compensated with the oily skin three times.  It was crazy.  The amount of care you need to put to dab the oil from your skin was ridiculous.  The magazines we read had information on how to find out what your skin type was, like it wasn’t obvious.  Wash your face and take a piece of tissue/cotton/can’t remember what we needed, and place it on your face 20 minutes afterwards to see if there is any oily residue.  The problem was we were all a bunch of teenagers with hormones that can drown you and skin that makes you cringe so we were all (combination skin).  Powder paper from the Body Shop was our best friend even though it keeps running out of stock.

Learning how to beautify yourself was very difficult given the minimum media available.  Besides magazines, there were only books, TV shows, and advertisements you see in shops.  Nowadays, beautifying yourself is a way of life for some fashionistas who, in addition to makeup artists, promote products like primers and matifying BB creams for those who have a problem with oily skin.

Then someone decided the “shimmer” was a good thing (hence the vampire gif) and EVERYONE wanted to shine.

Shine- Aswad

Apparently if you go through media nowadays, there are specific areas which need to shine for you to have a good glow.  Call me outdated but I was surprised when I saw people adding shine on their nose.  I’VE BEEN DABBING MY NOSE FOR SO LONG, WHEN DID THIS TURN TO FASHION???

Now I believe that beauty is in the eyes of the beholder and lo and behold I hope being fat becomes a fashion statement 🙂

Afternoon Tea- Repost

Tea

Repost- Afternoon Tea

image

The first memory she had of her grandmother’s house was the scent of freshly baked blueberry muffins.  She loved how the aroma filled the entrance and loved the traces of flour on the surface of the working area.  She would draw little hearts and her grandmother would tease and ask if the hearts were meant for her or the muffins, and she would answer the muffins.  She loved her grandmother who introduced her to this wonderful world of baking.

She remembered the sweet lemon pies they would make in the summer to accompany the swimming trips and the warm apple cinnamon crumble that would accompany the winter winds.  She was her grandmother’s little helper.  The person who would hold the rolling pin and the person who would garnish the cake tops with chocolate shavings.  She was the person who would cut the two day old bread to cover with the custard, raisins, and nuts and turn it into warm home-made pudding.  She would always choose the floral tablecloth and tea set for their days together and would help serve afternoon tea to her family and enjoy every second of their tea time together.

All her free time was spent in the kitchen with her grandmother.  she learned everything in regards to the temperatures, recipes, and baking tips. She asked her father for a set of baking pans for her tenth birthday and was ecstatic when she unwrapped the pink wrapping paper and saw them in the box.  Her first baking pans.

She always wanted to settle down and start a family of her own.  She met Owen once she started college in orientation and  things just clicked between them.  Her short dark hair and warm hazel eyes penetrated his heart and he knew that she was the woman of his dreams.

They had some joined classes and Owen was so happy to help Catherine with her work.  They spent so much time preparing for projects and presentations.  After two years of college, Catherine told Owen that she will not be continuing her education and a Diploma was enough.  Her grandmother have passed away and she had to go back and spend her summer in the old kitchen.  He understood her passion and wished her well but didn’t want to lose her so he promised to take some time to visit her for a week during the spring break.

She walked into the old kitchen and ran her fingers across the top of the working area. Dust in place of flour.  She opened the cupboards that once held the dried cranberries and vegetable oil and they were empty.  She sighed.  She opened the fridge that was once packed with eggs and cream to have an empty space stare back.  She took the rolling pin in her hand and started to think of a way to bring life back into her grandmother’s  house.

She smiled and started to work on cleaning up the house.  She started with the kitchen, then the rooms, and finally the living area.  She made sure the place was warm and welcoming as it always was when her grandmother was around.  She left the house and came back with bags of groceries.

She started by making a basic vanilla cake. She sliced the vanilla bean and used half in the custard she was cooking on the stove.  Her heart skipped a beat when she thought the eggs curdled but was satisfied to see that it all went well.  Her grandmother taught her well.

she was expecting her father, mother, and sisters to arrive soon and Owen also confirmed he would be coming over for tea.  He had a different plan in mind and coordinated with Catherine’s mom to propose.  She was ecstatic to hear and gave her blessings.

Catherine chose the floral table spread and got her grandmother’s floral cups and saucers.   She started boiling the water for the tea and was piping creme patisserie in her eclairs when the doorbell rang.

It was nobody.  She felt a bit of wind across her face so she had to make sure the draft was managed by closing the windows.  Catherine arranged the eclairs, vanilla cake, mini sandwiches, scones, and oatmeal cookies on the table and took a seat next to her grandmother’s chair.  She placed a plate with one piece of each baked good and a cup of warm tea as tribute to her grandmother.  She was content with the outcome of four hours of baking and felt her grandmother would be proud.

The guests walked in and were impressed.  Her sister beamed and Owen didn’t believe she didn’t buy the cakes.  She smiled and sat down, making sure every one had a taste of her cakes.

Owen proposed.  He went down on one knee and told her how she filled his life with happiness and what an honor it would be if she accepts to be his wife.  He slipped the ring on her finger.  Her family congratulated them and soon the get together was over.

Catherine was alone in the house, cleaning up and putting things back.  It was the perfect day in her grandma’s little home.  She was wiping the working area and unconsciously started drawing little hearts.  She was exactly where she wanted to be.

“These are for you, grandma,”

When on Vacation- Buy Lollipops

Lollipop

 

lollipop
I love traveling.  Who doesn’t, right?  There are many ways in which you can turn your travel experience to better or worse.  Obviously, you must research where you are going, what you’re going to do, and what your budget is.  Who you’re traveling with is very important too because you don’t want to end up stuck with that person you can’t handle for ten days straight, right?

Well, this is the first time I travel with both of my children.  One is three and a half years old and the other is almost a year old.  Things were great, I didn’t expect to have some alone time, nor did I expect to have any free time to shower but, all in all, we created good memories.

Things I learned in this trip could be written in a book but this is a post about lollipops.  Let’s go back to 2009 when I visited Scotland (swoon, sigh, and nostalgic music). I loved every second in Edinburgh and my husband and I would go to St. Giles cathedral and order from their great selection of tarts. I would walk by everyday and see these big pieces of fudge staring at me. I mean, they would look at me walk by, like the Mona Lisa, I tell you!  There was a specific light brown piece which would practically beg to be bought but I never did thinking I’d come back for it.

I never did. (Heartbreaking, tears flowing down my face)

Do you understand, I never did.  I never got that piece of fudge and since 2009 and I regret it everyday!  I never knew what it tasted like, never knew how it would or wouldn’t crumble on my tongue, and I would never know its flavor.

And why’s that? Because I postponed buying it until the day I would travel and to my surprise St. Giles was closed.

Fast forward to 2017. My husband and I were pushing our children in their strollers in the airport and my three year old passes by a big lollipop and says he wants it.

We were running late and my husband refused so we went on.  The light brown fudge popped into my mind and gave me a knowing look, I knew what I had to do.

I held my ground and told my husband that we must buy it or else (OK, not really, I just offered to pay for the overpriced candy) and he lovingly obliged.

We were very late, my husband was very angry, but I got my little boy his candy so it doesn’t haunt him (and me) for the next ten years.

When on vacation, buy your lollipop.

School Life is Imaginary

Imaginary

We all know that dreams occur when we’re fast asleep.  So when we are expected to wake up at 5:00 a.m. to get ready for school, some of our dreams are still lingering in our heads.  We manage to pull the energy to get dressed and, in good days, style our hair in a bun other than a high ponytail and we’re off to go.
Life, as we know it, exists within the school premises.  Life, all of life, is what we see, what we learn, who we hang out with, and on weekends, who we go out with.  We spend at least eight hours a day with our fellow classmates (and thus our BFFs forever!) and never reconsider another way of life.
Why is that?
Because it is very rare that social circles are beyond our school life.  We get to meet children from other schools when we play against them in our Junior Varsity and Varsity teams but it usually never advances to friendships.  We are mostly lazy, sticking with our childhood friends because we forgot how to make new friends and thus end up with that girl who just so happened to be sitting next to us in grade one.
How convenient.
Or if our parents are social butterflies, we befriend their children who, surprise surprise, probably go to our school as well because it’s “the best school there is.”
Then we get into groups.  People who like sports hang around with each other, people who play music, people who are technologically advanced, people who are technologically illiterate, cool kids, bad kids, popular kids, it’s all the same across schools and countries.  So you hate certain people, and like certain people.  And that’s the way it goes until the big day.
Graduation day.
You’ve been preparing all your life for this moment (this is probably the most used sentence in graduation speeches, alongside “we’ve done it”), and you’ve looked forward towards wearing that graduation gown and walking down the aisle.  You’ve discussed it a million times with your friends and were so anxious that you didn’t realize the car crash afterwards.  (sadly, a group of girls who graduated with me had a car crash but fortunately we didn’t lose anyone.)
The car crash called life.
Your close friends met your parents and so it’s no surprise when they meet them again in the ceremony.  It’s the other kids who turn all weird.  All of a sudden, that mean boy has parents.  Huh.  He has parents who kinda look like him and who, surprisingly, are very proud of his achievements even though they’re not so impressive.  BAM… Life…
A close friend decides to ignore you and concentrate on her family.  BAM… Life…
A girl who totally ignored you for the past five years comes up and takes a picture with you.  BAM… Life…
A guy who had a crush on you decides to introduce you to his mother who looks at you knowingly. BAM… Life…
People who didn’t really deserve the high achievement reward gets it and you wonder if there’s any foul play related.  BAM… Life…
And you walk in a haze… everything you once knew is completely gone.  Everything you thought was life is imaginary… everyone who walked on the school grounds suddenly is connected to people… It’s like a mind map of who knows who and who knows what and what money is being transferred to pull strings…
Then you realize, your college application could have gone through if only you had the money to “donate” and get into the amazing college of your dreams.  BAM… Life…
Life as you know it does not end within the school premises, life is what your parents have been trying to shelter you from because it’s a cruel cruel world for kids like you…
So be prepared to swim with the sharks, little fish.

Infused With Love- Ramadan

Infuse

momِ

As we enter the Muslim’s holy month of Ramadan, we look forward to the great blessings that are bestowed upon us every year and which we thank the Lord for as we are reminded of them daily.  We are reminded of the poor’s feelings of starvation through our fasting and thus we thank the Lord for our financial status which enables us to purchase the basic foods, at least, that will allow us to sleep with full bellies.

We are thankful for our families who are happily gathering around the table at the time of breaking our fast and we are reminded of the many people who have lost their loved ones (may God bless and have mercy on their souls.)

We are thankful for not being at war.  For having shelter above our heads and peace in our minds before our bodies.

And also, we are thankful for our mothers.  Our mothers who look forward to this month to have us all sitting together as a family before we all got busy with our lives.  And I don’t know about you, but my mother shows her love through food.

 She infuses her dishes with love.  Every single dish coming out of her kitchen smells of her.  Every single dish has the sense of her soul.  She use all her senses combined to produce a vast array of dishes that are loved by us all.  She slaves away in the kitchen, replacing last year’s dish set with a brand new one as Ramadan’s blessings, just to make us smile.  And instead of resting while she fasts, she chooses to go the extra mile and make my brother his kebabs because he just loves them.

And as if that’s not enough giving, she hand picks mint from her herb garden to infuse it in our tea, alongside love.

A big thank you to my mother who had a tiring day, you make Ramadan what it is. xoxo

 

No Verbal Confirmation, Please

Verbal Confirmation

 

With children, you sometimes question your sanity.  If you were an outsider looking in, you will see the many repeated questions and the many ignored requests.  Let’s assume you want to ask your child what he would like to have for dinner.  You start by asking like a normal human being.

“What would you like for dinner?”

No answer.

You decide that maybe he didn’t hear you, so you raise your voice a notch.

“Hey, what would you like for dinner?”

Still nothing.

This may go on a few times before you realize that your child isn’t even looking in your direction, so you remember that you should probably try to grab his attention by gently putting your hand on him.  Finally, eye contact.  So you ask again, repeating the question using a normal volume then raising your voice a little bit.  He squirms away, you walk behind him strong, thinking that you’re the mom, you are putting the rules.  He’s not the boss of me, you say to yourself.  He runs, you walk a bit faster.  A few more minutes of this and it turns to a full on game of chase.

Who’s the boss now?

You throw your hands up shouting that this is not a game so your kid says fine but nothing else.  You ask again and get nothing.

You wonder next whether you need to be facing your child when asking so you try that.  It takes some effort but you finally have eye contact.  You look into his eyes and suddenly all his childhood years fly by but no!  You will not succumb to his cuteness.

So you ask, slowly and making sure to articulate each letter: “What would you want to have for dinner.”

It’s happening.  You have eye contact, you see that your kid is listening to you, and then the dreaded answer comes: “anything”.

Scoff, because making “anything” means he will eat “anything,” isn’t it?

With children, looking at the many times I ran around like a headless chicken I salute myself.  I salute myself for closing the door on my finger and for knocking my head into the cupboard for no reason, all in the same morning.  I salute you, mothers, for being able to decipher your child so that no verbal confirmation is needed, you only need to be there to read the clues.

So you end up making some pasta, knowing that he’d eat it… and he does.

Verbal confirmation is not for mothers, they are telepathic,

 

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑