What a mother wants from a daughter
We were leeches. We were leeches who sucked the lifeblood out of them – and then we have the audacity to go back on them, to be more venomous, to suck more blood out of them. But this time it’s out of our own will. It’s through our own spite.
We are vicious.
They only want the best for us. They want the best for us. They want the best for us, they say, and we do not understand, we do not comprehend, we refuse, we argue, we refuse to believe this truth, we refuse to believe the truth until it’s manifest when we have our own daughter. When we have our own daughter, we will know. We will know the truth and how it wasn’t a lie, and how our naive hearts and our naive minds were constantly trying to fight a losing battle, a battle we know we would lose in the end of this sorry life we forced ourselves to live.
And it was all our fault.
It was my fault.
It is my fault.
But I have the power to change it.
As much as I can empathise, it’s tough, playing a double role. Being the daughter and a surrogate second mother – to myself.
Quite honestly, I just want to forget it happened – but she can’t. She can’t forget that thing you told her, along with the million other responsibilities piled on her by her son, her husband, her family, her duties, what her culture expects of her, what culture DEMANDS of her, of a woman.
It’s a tough life, being a woman, it really is. It’s a tough life. It’s tough and it sucks.
And yet women fight. Without credit, without the so called glorified, masculinized feminism.
By Noor Majid