A Messy Journey

Preface

Che loved Olivia, both writers of different genres, to put it shortly. He could not leverage his love, for he could not guarantee Olivia. And how is the formula of love ever in your favor without the object of your affection being in the equation? That is something Che could not fathom. He is insanely irrational when it comes to her.. wanting to own her, wanting her to love him, wanting her to think the same way he thinks, and wanting her to live in Paris with him. Olivia, on the other hand, did not see any chance with Che. She liked him as a friend, yet him demanding for more made him unworthy of a friendship to her. Olivia did not like being chained nor did she like the idea of a relationship based on blind love that Che was asking for. Leaving her homeland, abandoning her beliefs, feigning a feeling she could not possibly feel..  for him? That was extremely unlikely. Yet, poor Che is still hooked to a dream. A dream that he transformed into a living nightmare for Olivia. Olivia, on the other hand, narrates her stories of her so-called love journey.

Olivia and Che

Put under pressure, we sometimes do things that do not resemble what we would normally do. We surprise ourselves and then hope to fix whatever we did or said. That's exactly what I tried to do right after I conformed to Che's wishes. He understands me as a friend, but he refuses to be this friend lately. He cannot possibly be more than that to me .. I don't want him to be. He is composed of so many things. Many things I like and many things I hate ..  and most importantly, many things I cannot accept. Che is intellectual, learned, lively, and funny to some extent. He holds my interest in that respect! Yet, he has to ruin any conversation we have with confessions that I already know of and, frankly, confessions I am indifferent about. He also leads an entirely different life than mine.. He believes in a different religion, different norms, different ways of life!

I got into multiple relationships, that I placed no value in, during my very long friendship with Che, yet none of them was a liaison. None of the men I met were my type either, but there was something about Che that was more deterring, which is why he remained a friend and only a friend.. until I took one relationship a bit more seriously than the rest, for reasons I cannot explain.. and we all know what happens when someone interested in you is waiting for someone to break your heart. I stupidly gave in but for a couple of days only.
I could not stomach the exaggerated expressions of love, the supposedly chivalrous gestures, and the unreasonable demands of patriarchy. Che began to insanely repel me, and all I could do is recant.
I told him exactly how I felt about him and how my decision was driven by impulse, mostly because of the pressure he put me under. I might have come across to him as bitter and rude, yet I never expected his reaction. He insulted me.. and that was one thing I could not tolerate. I defended myself and slowly retreated, but that wasn't all about it. He kept reappearing in my life, trying to hurt me, attempting to torture me.

I hated him and completely drifted myself away until I read one of his novellas, where he explained himself too beautifully, several years after we stopped contacting one another. I was stunned by his words, by his expressions.. by everything! I mean, we're both writers and I can detect why how and when words are sincere. His novella kept me thinking of how wrong I was, not because of what I did or said to him, but because I did not give myself a chance to understand or appreciate his feelings.

I apologized to him, many years later.. and many years later, he still felt the same way towards me, which began to scare me. He met no one else, and as for me, I met someone who I fell head over heels for.

It was a quick yet detailed talk that followed my apology. Che asked about my health, my life, my love life, and everything a man could possibly ask about a woman. I asked about nothing. He still talked about himself briefly, and weirdly asked me to watch Julie and Julia. And that was it!

Olivia, Joseph and Harvin

With many things going on in my life, I realized that I cannot deal with anything on my own.
Harvin is my therapist. A woman who knows me through retrospective stories that she asks me to talk about, and who appears to know a lot more about me than I know about myself! It's quite amazing how a stranger can help you see your problems, which you never even thought were problems. Harvin suggests that whenever I overreact to anything, it is because whatever happened has a connection to something I once experienced or felt, and it can also mean that I might have experienced the opposite feeling in the same situation, which my body expects to feel yet receives a different emotion. This nonsense, which is sensible yet I cannot explain it very well, is also associated with people. They are the drivers of each other's emotions. As Harvin says, "if you are in a situation with a person that is similar to a situation you once experienced with another person, you will be expecting to experience a similar feeling, maybe a better one, but not worse. You might even expect similar responses whatsoever." I couldn't digest this until I tried to exemplify it in my head. Many things I feel are awful only because I expect them not to be awful, because they once weren't awful with others. For example, Che used to support even my silliest interests, which he doesn't find interesting at all. He's a psychologist, he writes about scientific and also spiritual matters. I'm more into ethnomethodology, ethnography, poetry, aestheticism, narration, imagination, culture and, to some extent, politics! We both write, but we write differently, yet Che exhibits more interest in my writings than the enthusiasm he illustrates in his writings. This is something I lack with Marcus, the man I love. I write weekly, if not everyday.. I write after every time I get choked up and fail to express my feelings in brief words to Marcus.. But he never reads. I then delete my entries, for I feel discouraged and devaluated.

Harvin asked me to think as much as I can of situations where I felt completely let down with Marcus, and to try to link them to past experiences in order to figure out why I even feel that particular way. She said, "you won't just feel sad because he does or does not do a specific thing. Your mind makes connections and comparisons even subconsciously." And she is almost entirely right. I kept thinking of everything that infuriates me about Marcus. Part of it is because I once had it, whatever it is, in a more desired way, but I'd rather have it all with Marcus, which is why it upsets me more, or I would do what women my age would do, find someone else who can accommodate my desires, even if it means through betrayal. Yet, that's not the case with me. His lack of interest in anything I love doing, his lack of will to step out of his comfort zone every once in a while, and his constant opposition to my beliefs.. they all create a huge brick on my shoulders. Harvin first wondered if Marcus and I are even in love at all, which is a logical question to ask. However, my answer is yes. We are truly in love, which she now understands after I told her all about our story. She asked if I've known any other man who was as close as Marcus is to me. I told her about Che and about Joseph, the only person I loved besides Marcus. And she said, "technically, leaving Marcus out of the picture for now, it is more practical to be with a person like Che, but only if you love him back and are willing to make sacrifices. And it is more logical and can essentially be more lasting to be with someone like Joseph, which your brain knows, and that's why there are many things about them that you'd like to see more in Marcus."

It is not Che who I wish Marcus could derive qualities from. It is Joseph.
I met Joseph when I was interested in arts, before I became a writer. I was a young amateur artist and he was six years older than I was. I participated in an exhibition, where we met, and it was my first time to ever feel as though I floated above the ground that I stood on. He was a calligraphist who gave lessons at the exhibition. I couldn't help but sign up for a lesson with him, even though I could master calligraphy. For two weeks, I saw him everyday, from morning until midnight. He knew enough about me, but not everything about me. He learned that many occasions are valuable to me.. birthdays, Christmas, Halloween, and any other occasion that represents a culture, even if it is not my own. I also told him about all the sports and dances that I practice.. this kind of stuff about me!

Joseph was the first, and remains the only man, I ever celebrated my birthday with. He surprised me in a gallery that we both participated in .. he invited my family and his, and he planned every detail of the surprise. It was beautiful. Yet, aside from galleries and exhibitions, Joseph and I did not really often meet. We lived in different cities, but we had a relatively tight bond.. until one day, he moved to Germany and lost contact with me. I was distraught.
Joseph suffered from type II diabetes, which has sadly become as undermined as it is common. And in Germany, he died of HHS, hyperglycemic hyperosmolar syndrome.  

Olivia and Marcus

After Joseph's death, I decided to major in public health and nutrition, even though I am more interested in social science. I felt as though it was my duty to spread awareness about an ailment that is misunderstood, an ailment that because of how common it is, people have blocked their attentiveness to it and are taking it not necessarily lightly but not seriously enough. That was before I met Marcus. When I did meet him, my perspective changed. I began to see no use in doing something I do not love, even if it is for a good cause. Marcus taught me how to love the person that I am instead of blaming myself all the time. He taught me how to be hopeful and patient. Most importantly, he taught me how to love unconditionally. I automatically learned all those things since the day I met him. It was different than the love I felt for Joseph, different than the love Che had for me. Marcus, a hardcore realist, however, lacks certain things that are important in preventing a relationship from withering. Thanks to Harvin, though, I began to understand him now. She suggested that he might have philophobia, a fear of connection.. a fear of becoming emotionally vulnerable, and it might be a result of previously failed love experiences.
Marcus not only despises expressing his feelings but also sees no use in doing so. He tells me he loves me, which I know is a concrete truth, but he says no more.

My thirst for romance sometimes becomes a nagging feeling, I even wish to consummate my relationship with Marcus. I was once exactly like him, if not worse. I never thought a normal intimate relationship was ever possible for me. I can say that all my experiences with men were platonic, and I made sure I put an end to whatever relationship I had whenever they decided to cross my line of comfort. I pushed people away and never felt guilty. Joseph and Che, however, were both a different case. Joseph, a temporary love ended by fate.. and Che, a one-sided tragedy. Loving Marcus, on the other hand, has triggered the hidden Aphrodite in me. I am all-consumed by him, which makes me demand for things that may be beyond his capabilities, and I've become a girl that does not cherish her lover for who he is.

Olivia

I stopped seeing Harvin. I now face different obstacles in life that Harvin cannot help with. I've always known that my reproductive health was not at its best, yet I never knew that it was as bad as having polycystic ovarian syndrome. Che, a know-it-all, once warned me about it, but it was at a time when I believed such thing could only happen to people other than me. I never wanted to see a gynecologist until I realized the abnormal amount of weight I was gaining.. and I was shocked since then. I met with several local doctors, and contacted others from all around the world. They all repeated the same irritating thing, which has basically become my dreadful déjà vu: eat healthy and exercise, and symptoms will start to fade.. not to mention that they all suggested, if not prescribed, Metformin and a bunch of contraceptives, which only made my condition deteriorate. For some time, I was even ready to remove my uterus to stop the pain, and I almost did. And for another longer period of time, I almost lost all the people I care about because of the emotional state (side effects of prescribed pills) that I was in. I could neither handle myself nor the new symptoms triggered by the medications. I still can't handle myself. This reminds me of Joseph. When he used to talk about diabetes, I could not understand it. I thought it was just a common disease that everyone will eventually have and that it was manageable. I'm not sure if I believe in Karma, but that's exactly how everyone around me react to my breakdowns. They, especially Marcus, suggest that I should be patient and hopeful. Yet, I can't help but be beastly when it comes to it. PCOS has dehumanized me, taking away an important human function from me, which is crucial in life. Procreating.

But my annoyance is not only this. It has become common, maybe more common than diabetes (except among women only) to the extent that people belittle its effects, barely counting it as a serious matter, and no one is coming up with a cure, not even coming up with sufficient campaigns! PCOS has altered my appearance, my enthusiasm, my hope, my energy and overall well-being. Even worse, it doesn't come on its own. In a not very long period of time, I have gotten arthritis, endometriosis, hypertension, ovarian expansion, premenstrual dysphoric disorder, and, not to my surprise, bipolar disorder. And still, people expect me to take it lightly, when I'm constantly overwhelmed by it in every aspect of my life.

The cherry on top, however, is Julie and Julia, which I recently remembered to watch, as per Che's request. I'm not sure about the point he was trying to make. He might've wanted to show me how much he knows me, since the movie is basically about Julia Child, a very critical figure in the culinary world .. and culinary arts, something I adore. He might've also wanted me, or expected me, to be nostalgic, remembering our days in Paris, or how much (he might think) I long to live with him in there. What I do know though, knowing Che, he clearly wanted me to feel as awful as I actually felt, for Julia Child has died childless because of PCOS.

On the other hand, Che has only achieved the very last assumption I just made. I did feel awful, but only because I do not wish to make my anticipated destiny a destiny of Marcus as well. It would not be fair. I do not want him to be Paul, however loving he is, and I do not want to be Julia, however much I admire her. I wish for a family that Marcus and I can bring into existence, effortlessly. Without Metformin, without Clomiphene.

But even Marcus seems to be deterred by the new person that PCOS has created. And if it gets worse, I do not have the capacity to hope or ever know if we can continue our messy journey.

A Single Story

(1)

Chimamand Adichi, Nigerian writer and novelist, has written about the dangers of a single story. What is a single story, though? It is a story told from one perspective, one point of view, and is measured with one yardstick, and that's it! Until other people decide to tell the story from their own diverse perspectives, it becomes a universal truth when repeated again and again from the same point of view, even when not necessarily true. This creates a story, a single story .. a stereotypical story. Arabs are terrorists, Jews are miserly, Blacks are lazy, Muslims are oppressed.. and the list goes on! Sadly, even when other perspectives are vocalized, the single story, which has gained its credibility in a way or another, has its effect in life; some people will always be doubtful.. Which story to believe?

And I've only gone through the rather social examples, that have become political, yet these single stories can also be stories we face daily, frustrating single stories.

Think of all the times your teachers tried to plant their own opinions in your mind, until their opinions became part of a truth you might still believe in.. Think of the way your parents try to socialize you, teaching you what they believe is right and wrong.. And most importantly, think of the way you automatically believe doctors once they prescribe a medication they believe is most suitable for you. I'm not sure if it's a game of authority (believing the superior's single story) or if it's just what humanizes us, or makes us fools: obedience.

(2)

I've obeyed all my superiors for a long period of time.. parents, teachers, doctors.. and whoever thought I needed their perspective on life, to an extent where I did not give myself a chance to even question whatever they say. How to live, what to eat, what to know, what to do, what not to do.. Until I realized that I need to fall out of the character that I'm expected to possess. And this is what I came to realize:

Truths are not static!

Not all the "facts" are true. Most of them are series of thoughts, series of tests, and series of whatever makes the person gains credibility, even if they were series of plain lies, and all it takes is a minute to think of how we are governed by universal single stories to be able to object and challenge existing stories (and maybe reach our own truth which suits us better than other people's 'truths'). Think of Copernicus and how he changed the world's view! He questioned and challenged the existing (at his time) biblical story: that the earth is the center of the universe, and he introduced heliocentrism, which exposed people with a strong belief system (relying on religion) to a new story about the solar system. Yet, they eventually believed in his explanation.. until today, which is why we see people deviating from religious norms, for science has offered them a better truth.

(3)

This is how we should try to see things: Objectively! And we must try to not but be subjective in the process.
Listen to opinions, no matter how much they differ from yours, and verbalize your emotions in a way that rationalizes them in order to give them a sense of truth.
Ask for opinions more than asking people not to give you their opinion.
I believe not doing so makes one seem like person who is content with his or her single story, which might be completely ridiculous and insensible, and is not prepared to be challenged in any way.
You will be challenged in ways that are beyond your capacity to act wisely, but try to keep your belief system as weak as possible. That's the only thing that is better when weakened!

Grammar Police

This is an apology, I guess.
I am usually very attentive to grammar and spelling etc. 
Yet, it is not something I choose to pay attention to when I blog. 

Sorry if you find the tenses or structures disturbing (I tend to be discursive -- switching from past to present tense etc.)

Love,
Alia