My paper heart had been crumpled, and torn to pieces…today, i know it’s finally healed.  Of course, marks still remain—-wrinkles in the paper, with plastic tape bandages to put it together again; memories can never fade completely, but i’m ok.  It feels strange to say “i’m ok,”  but, I can finally tell myself i’m worth loving—that my heart is beautiful, and i am beautiful.  Dwelling in that negative space has almost been easier than being healed, and having to risk it’s damage once again.  

I held onto how i was hurt, disregarded, and taken for granted, so that I wouldn’t have to put faith in another again.  I’m ready to leap and put wrinkled crinkled paper heart back on my sleeve to love again.

“You’re a FAILURE!” he snarled at me, drunk and barely able to sit up on the sofa.  “A complete failure in life.”  These were the words coming from the man who had failed me more than any other man ever could in my life.  My father lay in front of me, on one of his drinking binges again, in the lowest place imaginable, and was telling me I wasn’t good enough.  My logical brain should have laughed and brushed it off.  Instead, it stung me.  I had never been good enough, and would never be good enough for him, and I couldn’t help wanting his approval… 

A state of bliss it seemed.

for once, I did not feel the stress, the anxiety, the fear, the knot in my stomach

I simply went on with my day-to-day, week-to-week

I thought it was a good thing—until I realized:  I had become numb. 

Like a traveler in the cold, or, a witness who’d seen too much and too often, I no longer felt, saw or heard the pain and disappointment.  It should be a blessing, right?  Numb to the pain? 

Not a blessing.

I am numb to the happiness too now.  I don’t feel the good, the love, the enjoyment and zest.  I picture those monitors I saw at the hospital.  The heart monitor that rapidly shot up and down…mine is like hers in some ways…a flat line has taken over my life.

Survival mode is what I have fallen into. 

Stop thinking and feeling…you won’t hurt at her loss, or realize that many more losses are yet to follow, or that they are going to choose themselves and not you.  Not just them, but he too!  Even he will not choose you..You won’t feel the pain of abandonment and condemnation.  You won’t hear love and kindness in his voice.  You won’t see the brightness of the sun, the brilliance of the coloured leaves, or hear the tap tap tap of the rain knocking on your door, asking you to come splashing the way you used to.  You won’t smell the crispness, and earthiness in the air, or taste the sweetness as the peppermint and chocolate hot drink warm you on your late night voyage to discover the wonders of the season.  You won’t see, you won’t hear, you won’t touch, you won’t taste, but you will survive.

Screams/shouts/chaos

Anger/fear/inhumanity

Blame

60 years ago, and that chaos and inhumanity still haunts me today. 

Growth, understanding and forgiveness…that’s what I’m waiting for

I can’t minimize what my family and my family’s friends and relatives experienced.  I know it was a hard time for everyone.  I know that blame could be passed around over and over.  I don’t know how to take an uneducated mind, and have it look past the simplicity of what it knows, and make it grow to see the individuality of human beings, and their actions.  I don’t know how to keep their doubts from seeping in towards me and giving me fear.

There is so much beauty in love.  So little thought.  There are just two people.

A leap of faith.

Connection

A feeling of knowing, and understanding

Something bigger than yourself.

Allowing the rest of the world, their thoughts, their opinions, their notions in…seeping in like poison…does it ruin the beauty, or strengthen it?  Can you beat this force?  I want to beat this force, because I know and I remember the beauty of love.

TRADITION

 “You are JAT SIKH PUNJABI – remember that!  We don’t want to give up our roots”

 If you give up on being who WE are, and try to be like THEM, do you really think they will ever really accept you?

“a proper girl doesn’t do that…what will other people say?!”

LAUGHING! With boys!  You look so trampy.

I do so much for you.  Why can’t you do something for me?

You are your family’s honour…be respectful of yourself…don’t tarnish us.

Wanted: 

Jat Sikh Punjabi boy:  mandatory

Educated:  preferable

Good looking:  optional

Personality:  not needed

     FOR SALE:

                                               Our daughter has completed

                                               her education and now needs

                                                    to unburden her family.

                                                       She is a teacher,

                 27 years of age. 

          Willing to do housework.

        Able to cook Indian dishes.

  Please ensure that you meet the Jat-Sikh requirements.

Shame, disgust, anger, disappointment, all your worth is gone now…you are nothing.

THE OTHER SIDE…THE CANADIAN SIDE—————————————

FREEDOM/

LIBERAL/

INDIVIDUAL

“You are CANADIAN, tell them, that’s what they signed up for when they came!”

What’s wrong with them?  That’s so not fair…you’re an adult, just do what you want! 

Tell them to go back to India then!

Why do they come to Canada and not want to be Canadian?

Drink and Dance the night away…have an adventure!

Why can’t you come out?

WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU HAVE TO BE HOME BY MIDNIGHT?

Alright Cinderella…see you later


  

I’ve found someone extremely good, kind and loving…I’m happy!  But, he’s not Sikh.

I’m caught in two worlds and I’m struggling to define myself.  I’m struggling to decide what is important to me, and what values I hold because I want to, not because my worlds tell me to.  My worlds oppose each other very dramatically.  Both of my worlds judge each other, as they judge me.  I belong not to one completely, and as a result I belong to nothing.

·    Who am I?

·    What do I believe?

·    What do I want?

·    How will I ever know?