To my future child

To my future child,

I never quite ushered the thought of what would be in-between your legs. I just knew that whatever they were, I would love you the same. Before I thought about the color of your eyes or the length of your hair I knew that I would love you the same. Before I thought about you playing with dolls or trucks, I knew that I would love you the same.

Before it ever came to my mind that maybe one day you would walk back and forth tears developing in your eyes so afraid for no reason to say the simple words “I’m gay.” I knew that I would love you the same. Before I ever wondered if you would tell me your desires to wear high heels and make up, or hide your breasts and cut your hair, I knew that I would love you the same. If you looked in the mirror and thought about how others would not love you for your larger thighs, your small shoulders, your rolled stomach or that butt you call gross, I knew that I would love you the same, and that I would most definitely take care of the ones that would not.

Before I ever contemplated that you might not ever marry or have children of your own, that you might not like anyone in ‘that way’, I knew I would love you the same. Before I thought about if you would bow to your God on a rug or clasp your hands together leaning on your knees in prayer, if you would look to the skies pondering if there was really anyone up there, or deciding there was nothing at all, I knew I would love you the same. Before I thought about the tone of your voice or the clothes you would wear, the people if they’re would be more than one that you’d adore, I knew I’d love you the same.

Whether I looked down and saw the two lines on a stick or flew from some place else in the world to come get you I knew that I’d love you the same. Though filled with disappointment and sleepless worried nights, imagining a needle in your arm or a collection of empty bottles, I knew I’d love you the same. Before I ever uttered the words “What do you want to do when you grow up?” I knew I’d love you the same.

Too many broken children rejected and torn down by the ones that were always supposed to stand by them roam the streets wondering if their life was ever worth anything at all. Poking their feet at the pavement and kicking rocks into the road, waiting for a truck perfect enough to carry the load of their sprint into the headlights, in their minds they think of how selfish they are to ruin another man’s life with the death of there own. But who would really care anyway? He would go to therapy, he would get better. There was after all, people at his home that will comfort his distained whimpers of fear and regret of ever stepping in the truck and turning on the ignition. Lonely at the edge of a roadside, home alone with a gun, noose, or bottle of pills, knowing that the ones they have grown up with and love so much, will never love them back because of what they simply are.

Before you ever smile at the thought of having a child, one of your own to care and love, will you love them the same if they aren’t what you really dreamed of?

(c)2015 theworldofmywriting

Please do not under any circumstance, copy or claim this work as your own.

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Snow Dog

The flakes of white that occasionally fall from the sky, excite children and dogs a like. With a snowy muzzle and double fur coat, this Labrador is ready for a long play session in the 6-inch fricken snow.

Just look at this magnificent beast.

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Fuller of life

Every time a smile grows on your face, your skin grows a little bit wiser. A little bit older. A little bit fuller of life. When your eyebrow raises up, you gain another answer, another thought. And your skin gets a little bit wiser. A little bit older. A little bit fuller of life. Every freckle and every mole a mark of life, every scab and every scar. The little bits of cellulite and stretch marks. An indicator of what you’ve given me. My life. Every grey hair you gain, another display of every stressful moment you’ve been through, that you’ve survived. Another year another couple of silver hairs to admire. Just a little bit wiser. A little bit older. A little bit fuller of life.

Thank you for your love Mutuhemreh (Mother)

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World Hijab Day

I wish everyone a lovely World Hijab Day,a day in which people all over the world try to understand and experience what it is like to cover up for a day. If you are participating in World hijab day, remember that if you are a non-Muslim, or a woman that does not practice veiling, you will never be able to experience what it is like to worry about how people will judge you everyday. Use your experience this day to learn and appreciate the veiled women in the world. Learn and remember the women that have lost their lives or their faith to cover due to anti-Muslim violence in Myanmar, France, Germany, The US, and Central Africa. Stand against terrorist groups that take the choice away from a woman to veil. To cover is your own personal choice with god and no one should be able to take that away from you.

Understand that a veiled woman can work, be a mother, be a wife, be independent, be successful, be intelligent, and be ambitious. Judge what is not on someone’s head, but in someones mind.

Stand up not only for women who wear Hijab, but Niqab and Burqa as well. Stand up for muslim men that wear traditional clothing such as thobes and Kuffis/taqiyah’s. Support Sikh men and women that are criminalized and mistaken for Muslims and therefore profiled and hated, who wear the turban/pagh.

Stand up for the people who veil, and educate yourself to understand and fight for them.

Happy World Hijab Day.

In Society’s Eyes, Chapter Four, Complete Surrender

Chapter Four: Complete Surrender

“Where are you going?” Laci asked as I began running after Kristen. I just acted as if I didn’t hear her at all. Kristen didn’t pay attention to me as I caught up to her. I stared at her some more, walking beside her. Laci just stood in place shaking her head and waiting for me to come back. I wasn’t coming back. “Kristen, please talk to me.” I said over and over again. It’s almost as if I was completely invisible to her. I began to feel frustrated and stopped Kristen by walking in front of her and holding her in place. “Screw off!” She shouted at me. Ah, there’s the Kristen I know and love. “Kristen, look at me.” She didn’t of course. “LOOK AT ME.” I demanded even louder. She was trying to get away from me, I wouldn’t let her. “Kristen please look at me.” I said desperately. There was about a five second period of silence of me just staring at Kristen before her head turned up and I saw her eyes. The usual blue of her eyes was darkened and they were dry and puffy. “Get away please.” She said immediately after looking at me. “I don’t deserve anything.” She added before running away, her shoes squeaking against the floor. Don’t deserve what? Ugh. This world is so confusing. Every single time someone says something it’s another puzzle to solve. Before I could continue chasing after her, Laci grabbed me and pulled me away. She dragged me over to a corner and like an upset parent, gave me a talk. “What were you thinking?!” She shouted at me. I didn’t really feel like explaining. “School’s over today, Anna.” “Go home and think.” Laci said. And before I could come up with some sort of response, she walked away. Disappearing out of my sight. Thank goodness that the hoard of teenagers were so on-top of their schedule so that I didn’t miss the bus at all, since they all immediately ran towards the boarding area immediately after Laci stopped talking to me. So nice of them. I sat in the back as I did last time, and waited for the depressing 17 minute drive home. Yes. I counted the minutes. What else was I supposed to do? Think? That’s what Laci wanted, and I’m a rebel who would rather not get lost in her extremely saddening thoughts about life. Screw that.

The next day was the same. The only difference was that I didn’t wake up in the shower, thank goodness. Even though this is going to be just my second day, I’ve already come to be familiar with some of the different groups of people in this school, cliques or whatever. It’s mostly the extremely stereotypical ones like jocks and nerds and what not. Then there are the extremely offensive ones that I’m fairly afraid to even mention. But there are the sort of normal ones, you know, the hipsters, The G&E’s (Goths and Emo’s as well as scenes, sadly they aren’t included in the acronym) the overly popular people, sporty people, all that stuff. But for one more time in my life, I wasn’t part of any of these groups. Just a little weirdo that fakes where she ‘belongs.’ I decided to try and blend in with Laci by dressing as a scene kid. I looked in our garage and there was conveniently some really…really old hair chalks there. I straightened my hair, and then slowly tried to apply the crumbling hair chalk, most likely bought some time in the 90’s. After I had a few strands of pink hair, I stole a gel eyeliner from my mom’s make up bag and tried my best to make an overly applied cat eye. “Dear God.” I muttered to myself as I looked at the atrocity that was my face with amateur applied eyeliner. There was no time to wash it off and do it again, so I just had to deal with it. Maybe Laci will have some sort of fix. I looked in my closet for some black clothes to mix with overly bright colors. I had a black tank top, and some old galaxy leggings with holes in them that I probably stole from my sister. There was also, somehow through the mostly Kristin-approved clothing, a poofy blue skirt I think I wore at a dance party when I was 13 or something. Ugh. As I struggled to pull the tiny skirt over my now larger nearly adult booty, I kept thinking in my head, “Why. Why, why? Just why.” Like, why was I doing this, why do I even bother going to this stupid school? Oh right, I’m in an alternate universe that I’m going to save with my amazing powers. I run as fast as I can out of the house as to not catch the eye of my mother or sister, and hop onto the bus that now just nicely parks outside the house for me. Laci isn’t there, so like yesterday I sit in the back and sort of fall asleep for the what, 17 minute something drive to school? I don’t really care to count today. As the bus came to a stop and the exhaust screeched, the zombie teenagers slowly hopped out and all organized into their groups. I was sort of stuck between this hipster dude and really short Goth girl. It was kind of awkward since my height compared to the Goth girl was perfect for elbowing her boobs. Eventually though I was able to escape the two of them and stride out to the lovely Tribuo academy all of my own. By myself. Without Laci. Crap. I couldn’t see her anywhere. I uncomfortably entered the front doors of school and tried to find my way to my locker. As I’m trying to remember my password, frantically twisting the dial, I feel a hot breath down my neck. “Hello Anna.” I struggle to turn around as I am simultaneously jumping out of my skin whilst trying to do so. As I completed my 360 degree turn, I saw the wide-eyed Laci Peterson staring down at me. “…Hi…” I said trying to escape the trapped feeling of being pinned by sassy scene kid Laci to a locker. “I understand why you might’ve approached Kristen yesterday, but I do not appreciate it, Anna.” Laci spoke to me like an angry but professional teacher giving me a lecture about a crappy paper. Before I can utter any kind of reply, Laci keeps talking, determined to keep me pinned to the lockers behind me. “You can’t help everyone in this world, some people just don’t deserve the things that others do, Anna, you need to remember that.” “Laci…What are you-.” Why am I even trying to contribute to my own lecture? “Some just don’t learn immediately, you shouldn’t help them.” Laci looks up and down finally releasing me from the lockers. I slowly walk over to the other side of the wall, trying to think of a response. Some people just don’t deserve things? I hate this place. I’m not a smart person, I’m a sexually ambiguous Olympic sleeper that has an IQ of -40. I don’t understand this deep meaningful BS that Laci spews at me every ten seconds. Seriously. I just sort of stand there for a few more seconds before finally coming up with something to say. Or to ask really. I pause for a few more moments before I look dead straight into Laci’s eyes and asked, “Laci how do I get out of here?” My voice was plain, but desperate. I don’t like it here. Actually, I hate it here. It’s my 2nd day and I already want to drop out. Laci looks at me and shakes her head. “Anna, you have to graduate obviously.” “You have to learn, become you, find yourself, find what you want to be and become that, have fun and live your short youth to the fullest.” Laci stares back at me as I grit my teeth and mutter, “That is tremendously stupid.” “Hm. Seems like something a teenager would say.” Laci laughed a bit, and I just smiled in a passive-aggressive manner. “I know Anna, you don’t want to be a teenager, you don’t want your emotional problems blamed on the ravaging hormones inside of you, but I’m just like you, another teenager that can’t do anything about anything so I might as well just agree to say that you’re just another teenager Anna. Just another person with another problem that you can’t solve.” “I know what you want Anna.” “You want to be skinnier, taller, stronger, smarter, and

mainly, not to be viewed in society’s eyes as just another teenager.” “You must be so excited for that, huh?” Laci just stands there, after her little rant about how she obviously knows everything about me and all my wants and desires and after knowing me for a day and a half she knows all. Though she is kind of right. I hate being my age because of others that are my age. I’m not calling myself above everyone else, cause I’m not. I’m pretty lame actually. But I just don’t enjoy being associated with the normal teenager and the expectations that come with that and the degrading of my feelings to ‘just being hormonal’ and sometimes I just want to hide everything from everyone because I hate just being called another teenager, another person with a problem that can’t be fixed. Even though that’s exactly what I am. I can’t fix my problem because my problem is my family. My ‘friends’ my school my country my everything, everything is my problem that I can’t fix because I’m just another teenager. I don’t want to say anything to Laci anymore. I don’t want to even run away to a class. Who cares about those so called ‘classes’ anyway? They’re not actually real. I’m just in this weird universe and soon enough I can go back. Soon. I start running away from Laci, and she doesn’t move an inch. She just watches me as I run, completely plain faced and emotionless. As I run the hallways don’t seem to end. I keep going further and further but the halls just get longer and longer. My vision’s blurred and I can feel myself on the verge of tears. God I’m so pathetic. Just another person with a problem that can’t be fixed. I slow down a bit as I see a blur of dark blonde hair flush past me. It’s Kristen. She’s also crying. Bundled up in her baggy sweater, running away just like me. Running away from everything. From our problems that we can’t fix. My heart hammers in my chest as I grab Kristen’s hand and we’re both running together. We suddenly take a sharp left turn into another endless hallway and I see other people with problems they can’t fix. Noelle, Trinity, and…Sasha? What is Sasha doing here? Sasha doesn’t say anything, well frankly none of us are saying anything, just running, and looking at one another in determination. “Run, keep going, wherever it is, just keep running.” My conscious says to me, and I of course listen. “I DON’T DESERVE ANYTHING!” Kristen screams so loudly I attempt to cover my ears but can’t loosen my grip on her hand. “We don’t deserve anything Anna, let’s go, we need to go.” Kristen pleads as we slow down, which allows us to be left behind by Sasha, Noelle, and Trinity. I can’t feel anything anymore. The world is going blank. My heart is beating so fast and I find it difficult to catch my breath. I fall onto my knees, Kristen does as well. I look up to the ceiling and stare as my pulse tries to burst out of me. I take a deep breath in, and tighten my grip on Kristen’s hand. Maybe I can leave like this. Maybe they will let me go.

I surrender. I’m done. I don’t like this anymore. I completely surrender.

There you go problems I can’t fix and Laci and everything else.

Here is my complete surrender from me to you. I’m done.

Goodbye.

(c)2015 Theworldofmywriting. Please do not under any circumstance steal this work or claim it as your own.

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Glare

She stared at me. What was she thinking? Did I look weird? Do I have something stuck in my teeth? What is running through her mind when she looks at me…

Is she – horrified? Impressed? Intrigued?

Oh God, other people are looking too I bet. They’re probably all thinking about how weird that pimple on my chin is, it seriously looks like a nipple.

I’m scared now. Why am I so scared? Why am I so afraid that they will care?

I never used to be like this.

How could a stare, a simple few eye movements towards me mean anything…anything negative really. Cause that’s all I really care about right? Only the bad things. Only the judgment. Only the criticism.

Why can’t I just go out and think the happy things? The good things about other people and about myself.

I don’t want to just look at another woman in heels and a tight dress and think, “Ugh slut”

I want to notice her curves, her confidence, her walk, her hair and how long that must have taken to do…

I don’t want to look in the mirror and think, “Ugly.” I want to notice my eyes, my awesome hair and well – that I can be pretty cool sometimes.

I want to be different, but how do I…

…convince myself?

So many questions, no answers, and just some lady glaring at me a few feet from me.

I suppose the real question is…

Why should I care?

-In Society’s Eyes

(c)2015 Theworldofmywriting. Please don’t copy or claim any of this work as your own.

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