I spent all of my 20s disrupting, deconstructing, dismantling, deprogramming, discovering, detaching from the system I was born into. I pray and pray that Allaah allows my innate divine design momentum and passage to bloom and rise, now that the blocks and shadows are out of the way. I hope I won’t be my own detractor. I hope I will live to see Allaah’s intention in creating me.
I’ve internalized and been hindered by people’s inability to get me. I understand I was born way before my time, and one day I’ll be the sun that dawns on some. Until then, I’ll fulfill the function Allaah created me for ; to live authentically so that the divine design in me becomes manifest.
I absolutely have the temper of a reer Mudug Sagittarius so it’s a miracle that I didn’t end up with anger issues that could rival that of the kid Russell in Deadpool 2 (just finished watching it. Surprised that the humour didn’t make me cringe.) I don’t let out my anger easily. Only when someone has blatantly and disrespectfully ignored my warnings. Then I’ll blast them till their eardrums pop like my voice was a jet plane.
I’m very kind, and it’s not a kindness out of guilt or fear. I’m the type to fuck up a prick abusing his girl in public or tell off a gang of kids bullying another, or tell of a mother doing her child wrong. When I see power struggles in public I lose all sense of social manners. That’s when all my anger gets out and I’m seriously prepared to go down hard for that.
But if it’s someone doing me dirty I just doorslam them and erase them from my heart forever. Ever. Ever. I’m very forgiving but once I reach that threshold where I realize someone is counting on my forgiveness and taking my kindness for granted, I’m disgusted and done.
I have standoffs with my mum and you’d think I’m the worst daughter ever. But she knows when that happens is when she pushes my buttons and expects my usual kindness. I can’t doorslam her so I seriously put her in her place when she’s abusing her parental powers bordering on emotional abuse. But that never clouds my empathy and trying to do my best. And because she knows this, she lets it go even if she’s salty. It’s not perfect but I never aimed to be perfect, just honest.
Watching Deadpool 2 made me realize that I could be somewhere on the superhero spectrum because I neither deny or project my pain. I sit smack dab in the middle of that pain and quarantine it so it doesn’t leak out. That’s fucking badassery, and it’s ok if that bragging makes you cringe because it’s honest to God the truth. Isn’t it ironic how many years it took me to be able to look at myself and acknowledge my out of this world strength? All I ever could see was the pain that crippled me, people that took advantage of me and rarely appreciated me, and their projections that rained down upon me when I didn’t please them. And did I internalize that or what! Whew. You’d think my heart was Chernobyl. I’m sure my personality is some type of mutation from enduring all that fucked up trauma since I was 5 fucking years old (any scientists wanna pick my brains?)
I can’t respect anyone who appropriates the truth when the only time they acknowledge it fully is when it’s wind in their sails or they’re stuck. Being truthful is about more than just being honest. It’s about holding it sacred and always striving towards it in every situation and with every effort. It’s a lifetime commitment and most people seem to be commitment phobes.
Do not fucking rush me, on god. I run on intuition not attention.