Once there was a little girl with a pocket full of sunshine and dreams. The little girl was born in a culture of paradox, in a place where being a female is seen as a sin.

The little girl grew up swiftly, embracing a femme fatale physic.

Happily, she believed in her beauty, a beauty that brought her to her knees in a fragmented family and for an uncaring mother delight the girl was molested severely and continuously.

The secret was held and locked inside of her, fear and sexual illiteracy ignited her silence, for living in private shame is sounder than being the shame scene.

Then one day she fell in love with a little boy. The boy loved her so much until she told him of the ways she had been touched and the few blood spots. The boy promised to love her no matter what, but with the first dawn he left, leaving her heart apart.

Broken hearted, feigning courage and hoping for love, she trapped into another boy, a boy who was smarter than the first. This boy treated her with a mask of mercy and tolerance, the talks of love lead her to his bed and so fell the second dead end.

From the tender talks to shouting and screaming, from beliefs to absurd doubts and accusations, from respect to humiliation and from protection to fatal exposure.

Her secret was out after 10 years, the 16-year-old petal is now naked in front of the family and social judges.

No one dared ask how, when and why—for she is a female, and believing her would be wrong. She was detained, beaten, humiliated and indicted of dishonor, shame and cheapness by her mother.

That day she believed in her the sins they claimed, she detested her existence and confessed the shame she didn’t commit: “giving away her honor” and giving her body to a man out of wedlock.

That day a part of her was buried in the valleys of pain and despair deep in her heart. She decided not to fight, and that love and only love would heal her broken being and heart.

Years passed and she was living it up on that decision, searching for a shelter in every man she passed by, giving it all for the sake of a safe touch, sacrificing and traumatizing herself to find the Mr. Right who would forgive her for her loss, the Mr. Right who would love her regardless of her mistakes, the Mr. Right who would fight to be with her no matter what it takes.

That was the era of openness, the era where her dreams were shattered, where failure and endings swayed hand in hand at the end of every road she took. During that time she didn’t know her own worth, she didn’t know that she is the love she has been craving for so many years, she didn’t know that she’s free of being whatever she wants to be.

But today she smiles and she knows,

She knows that the infinite love lurks in her heart

She knows that the brokenness in her heart was the pathway of light

She knows that her tears cultured different perception in a judgmental place

She knows that her honor doesn’t lurk in her vagina, nor in the way she dress

She knows that she shall never carry the burdens of others’ ignorance and blind lusts

She knows that she was only the victim because she did not speak out

She knows that self-care is a sacred must

She knows that she should only love the love

She knows that she shouldn’t expect anything from anyone

She knows that her loneliness is tenderer than desire hands

She knows that her dreams are of crystal, and that she shall not put them in anonymous hands

She knows that she wants nothing at all

She knows that she doesn’t want to forget

She knows that she should hold no regret for the faith given, and the love she could never get

She knows that love is free and that one day she will be, too.

 

Relephant Read:

Remember Who you Really Are.

 

Author: Hala Kassab

Editor: Emily Bartran

Painting: Author’s Own