Azra Tabassum's Blog, page 2
April 1, 2021
Hi Azra! I’m 27, and I’m new to disappointing my parents, I chose a partner they don’t approve of, moved across country, and reclaimed my independence again. It’s heartbreaking to mourn losing their presence as I knew for the past 27 years. Does it get
Ha! I’ve been in the industry of disappointing my parents for years. I would say that it took a lot of self love and self worth work to not hate myself for it. The blame is always there and the guilt just stings. Recently I’ve been trying to understand the toxicity in some parts of South Asian culture, the undercurrents of suffering and particularly the expectation that women suffer. I’ve decided that I don’t want to suffer and that I was brave in leaving and following what I needed. I’ve come to the realisation that my parents won’t ever understand or necessarily accept me and that’s okay. I know that I’m loved by them and almost more importantly, loved by myself. So…easier? I suppose but that longing for them lives in me and occasionally claws and I’ll live with that probably forever.
March 17, 2021
March 12, 2021
5000letters:
“Peel your heart like a pomegranate. Offer i...
“Peel your heart like a pomegranate. Offer it to him, palms outwards. Say “eat.” Watch him come awaystained red by you. You’re in his teeth. He’ll kiss you with that mouth.”— Azra.T “Fruit”
5000letters:
“Peel your heart like a pomegranate. Offer it to him, palms outwards. Say “eat.” Watch...
“Peel your heart like a pomegranate. Offer it to him, palms outwards. Say “eat.” Watch him come awaystained red by you. You’re in his teeth. He’ll kiss you with that mouth.”— Azra.T “Fruit”
March 11, 2021
The fear for my children festers always in my stomach like some malevolent ghost. The slightly…
The fear for my children festers always in my stomach like some malevolent ghost. The slightly missed curfews and the immediate drop of myself, the silence of phone calls and how the body starts to wail, I wonder whether they have been taken from me, whether I’ve lost them today or the next, whether I taught them to be fearful enough. That disparity between teaching young girls to be the brightest, bravest beings they can be and that ghost, held together by the terror and the grabbing and the sexual assault and the murder and that constant terrible ceaseless voice that whispers “you are so vulnerable, so soft and the monsters out there want to eat you alive”.
The fear for my children festers always in my stomach lik...
The fear for my children festers always in my stomach like some malevolent ghost. The slightly missed curfews and the immediate drop of myself, the silence of phone calls and how the body starts to wail, I wonder whether they have been taken from me, whether I’ve lost them today or the next, whether I taught them to be fearful enough. That disparity between teaching young girls to be the brightest, bravest beings they can be and that ghost, held together by the terror and the grabbing and the sexual assault and the murder and that constant terrible ceaseless voice that whispers “you are so vulnerable, so soft and the monsters out there want to eat you alive”.
The fear for my children festers always in my stomach like some malevolent ghost. The slightly...
The fear for my children festers always in my stomach like some malevolent ghost. The slightly missed curfews and the immediate drop of myself, the silence of phone calls and how the body starts to wail, I wonder whether they have been taken from me, whether I’ve lost them today or the next, whether I taught them to be fearful enough. That disparity between teaching young girls to be the brightest, bravest beings they can be and that ghost, held together by the terror and the grabbing and the sexual assault and the murder and that constant terrible ceaseless voice that whispers “you are so vulnerable, so soft and the monsters out there want to eat you alive”.
March 10, 2021
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Instagram: azratabassumwrites
Instagram: azratabassumwrites
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Instagram: azratabassumwrites
Azra Tabassum's Blog
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