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These thoughts had always been a whisper in her ear, reminding her how good she had it, reminding her that the things she found unfair were nothing, nothing, compared to the struggles of her parents and grandparents.
How much more empathy would people have if they understood that their position in life was decided not by goodness or merit or fault or need but by luck and chance, a toss of a coin?
The last thing she wanted was for a man to think she needed him.
there was more out there than the life she was living, she was sure of it. But what would that life look like? another voice countered. What if it was worse than this one?
All she could do now was fight to keep her job. Without it, she would be nothing more than an Americanized version of Mama, a woman circumscribed by marriage and motherhood. It shamed her to feel this way, but it was true.
But in moments like this, his love felt so far away, like love was a country she would never hold claim to.
What if this was actually her curse? Not losing her job or failing at marriage, but simply being unlovable, unwanted, no matter what she did.
On this bright summer day, the sky is a crisp light blue. Laundry lines all around us, sheets fluttering in the wind. The women laugh and gossip while they sip Turkish coffee and dip warm bread in zeit-o-za’atar, while the men sit inside, playing cards and smoking hookahs packed with tobacco and filled with rosewater and lemon.
How had Mama done it? Marrying Baba and moving to America at only seventeen, adding a language barrier to the list of limitations she already faced. How had she felt?
Why was it so hard for her to do things most people could do without a second thought?
“You appreciate me? Or the things I do?”
What’s the point of working for the future if it means forgetting to live?”
She swallowed a lump in her throat and said: “Sometimes I wonder how differently my life would’ve turned out if my mother had been able to get a divorce.”
At least she had the privilege of education, at least she was born in a country that protected the rights of women and knew the basics of how to navigate, unlike her mother, with language and culture and fear acting against her.
To surrender to the vulnerability of love and allow ourselves to be loved by others—isn’t that the most courageous act of all?
