Can my strength be my biggest weakness?
‘I’m not strong like you Ayesha.’
When I asked my sister why she allowed my mother to use and emotionally and physically abuse her. You see my sister would fight at the drop of a hat. But when it came to our mother she never fought back. She would say to me, 'Ayesha your not supposed to fight your mother, you have to respect her.' This was the answer she gave. I thought that was all well and good but as far as I was concerned respect was a two way street.
She was my older sister, four years my senior and since my mother had fled an abusive husband she was single. She worked and went to school so the raising of me was left to my sister. She feed me, clothed me and combed my hair before school. She helped me with my homework after school and she cooked dinner if she had to. So you see to me it was my sister who was strong, because no matter how well she did the required task, it was hardly ever to our mother’s satisfaction. And she suffered verbal and physical abuse because of it.
Unlike my older sister I would confront our mother about her moments of insane behavior. The quickest way for me to catch a backhand slap was to look her in the eye and ask her “Why?”. My sister would call me crazy and tell me “You can’t talk to Ummy like that Ayesha!” As meek as I may have been I have never been one to bow down. I have never had a problem questioning authority. If it didn’t make sense to me, then I’m going to need you to explain to me why. For example my chores included making my mother’s bed and cleaning her bedroom. When she remarried and her husband decided to show his true colors and hit my mother, I decided that since he shared her bedroom, it was no longer my responsibility to clean it. When confronted by my mother as to why I had not cleaned her room, I told her, you are my mother he is not my father I will not clean up after him. She gave me the whole rant about how as long as I lived in her house I would do as she says. But I never cleaned her room again and soon after I would leave my mother’s house never to return. I was fifteen years old. I thought I would try my father on for size. My unwillingness to bow down left that relationship in shambles as well.
I don’t recall a lot of my early years but I can recall some of my earliest thoughts. My earliest thoughts were melancholy thoughts about the ugliness in the world. The ugly way that people treated one another. The malicious intent behind words that people spoke to each other. Wishing I was alone on the planet because human beings were just too ugly to bare. I can recall feeling the pain of the people I loved and feeling helpless. I also recall a knowledge that no matter how ugly things looked, A Divine Creator that we are all connected to would never ask me to bare more than I can handle. If I am strong this knowledge is the source of my strength. Although most often I don’t feel strong at all. Most often I feel alone. Theses feelings have not diminished much over the journey of my life. I still long to return home and be surround by LOVE, but I know that my journey is not yet over and I can’t return until my job is done.
I guess the one word that would define my life is a question, ‘WHY?’ I must know why.
It is a question that I have not stopped asking. I have to know why I am here, still looking for that answer in it’s entirety. Why, is an essential question if we are to make any sense of life. So don’t be afraid to ask a question in life. You can’t find the answer until you ask the question. I guess the question ‘Why/’ would be another source of my strength. Or, is it possible that the knowledge of knowing a Divine Creator would not ask me to bare more than I can handle give me the courage to ask why in a world consumed by lies?
To live life in fear is to never know Love,
To know Love we must live life fearlessly,
Be true to ourselves and choose your sacrifices wisely,
For what you sacrifice may determine your fate.
Is my perceived strength actually a weakness?
I guess the answer to that depends on one’s perception.