The Closet

I am overjoyed to find a blog site and finally, my interest for writing diaries came back to life. It was two decades ago since I stopped writing. I thought that it is reserved for single women who look at diaries as their “emotional closets”. In my diaries, I had to use figurative words so that even if someone accidentally or intentionally reads it, I wouldn’t be exposing much of my cherished privacy.

It is funny to think that people are now actually allowing their thoughts and innermost feelings be known to the world via the web, and it dawns on me that human beings really wanted to be heard but are afraid to accept what people will say or think about how they feel. Now that revelations of life are posted every second on blogsites, it just proves that people needs attention, they want the world to know, but still afraid to reveal themselves thus hiding in aliases. I am not actually talking about articles posted on blog sites in general. Let me be clear that I am speaking for myself and probably for others who have the same line of thinking about diaries as “emotional closet”.

My diaries then are filled mostly of my romantic encounters, starting from petty things like being smiled at by a crush, simple dates, receiving gifts, flowers and hearing words of endearment up to culmination of a relationship. Pages open up too for new life episodes, the rise and fall, the heaps of the hearts and the sighs of love.

I could only smile while reading them all over again. I realized how silly I’ve been and probably seeing my own daughter doing what I wrote about myself there --- would make me raise my eyebrows. Yet, I am sillier now, because I can no longer relate to who I was back then, especially --- when my age started to fly off the calendar leaves. It has all become illogical. But I do remember the exact feeling and it makes me go back down the memory lane. Just the feeling --- but no longer the love or admiration for the --- then object of my affection.

Diaries are like photographs of our past. It shows the impulsiveness of our decisions, the restless youth we’ve lived, the shallow happiness, the meaning of everything in just one stroke of the pen. You see your smiles, your pains, frustration, yet most of all, you see your victories. How you triumphed over life’s battle. You see yourself, slowly being formed into a new and a stronger person --- the hand of God who cradled you while you couldn’t walk and the blessings he carefully prepared for you.

Closets --- as it name implies are closed most of the time; some are even provided with lock or security gadgets. It is where we put our treasured possessions. We protect what’s inside it from the dust, a thief, sometimes even from people who are close to us. We only choose what we want to put out in the open and returns to it what we think belongs there for the time being. Closets are also shelter to some, a hiding space, a comfort zone, a place of retreat, and where you can be your true self.

I love diaries. And I never realized it until now. Just give me a minute I’ll just get inside my closet.

The Other Mirror

Sometimes a mirror turns a blind eye when we look at our image in front of it. It takes another person, someone who is close to us to reflect what we do and what we have become out of developing a habit.

I love to talk and I tend to overdo it sometimes. I admit that I have the tendency to monopolize talks in meetings, but I am doing it not because I want to grandstand or I am a “know-it-all-kind-of-person”, I just wanted to express how I feel and share ideas - popping like firecrackers on top of my head, as interesting topic sets in.

There are times, when I assess the impact of my behavior and try to observe what others feel about it, but maybe, with my nature of carefully choosing the right words and few jokes, I manage to get away with it. Being vocal gives me relief and I would like to think that if there is somebody to defend freedom of self-expression and speech during gatherings, it would be me.

The best way to describe myself during discussions is --- a person who wouldnt let a meeting finish without sharing an idea. Silence has become an obsession, because it rarely visits me.

You see, I am part of an organization which regularly meets on Fridays. Being in the country where women had to depend on men, my husband in this case--- is a must, for security reason and as obedience to law, my hubby would accompany me in meetings and will be left with no choice but join me in meetings as a silent observer.

He already knew that I would go through tremendous adjustments, when he decided to work here again in Riyadh. He was aware that having worked for 12 years in a corporate environment, the shift to becoming a plain housewife, is not as easy as when I said yes to him and vowed that I would choose to be with him, wherever he will be. But it was a choice and a mutually agreed decision, though just like other plans, it usually takes a different form in reality. With that in mind, my hubby was considerate and kind enough to look for groups and activities that would keep me occupied.

It so was fast, he enrolled me in a class, graduated and within that same year, I became one of the officers, a volunteer actually---making it necessary to participate in developing plans, deliberation and regular talks to further the organization.

It was in these meetings, when the Other Mirror surfaced. The Other Mirror, who silently watch me and patiently put up with the lengthy meetings ----my other mirror --- my beloved husband. He was very polite when he told me when we were home that I am starting to develop a habit that probably unknown to me. He said that my passionate nature for things have expanded to overly expressing my ideas. I was stunned when I realized what he was pointing at. I was like--- justifying my act initially, and reasoned out my freedom about expressing my idea.

Then the blow came when there was a sensitive issue in the group that we discussed and I had to tell the truth about how I feel, got carried away and hurt somebody in the process. I knew that I was just being honest that time but after that meeting, stress was all over me, the guilt haunted me the whole week. --- and I realized the mirror was right after all.

Lesson learned is that --- sometimes we have to choose between silence and belting out what we perceive is the truth, to avoid misunderstanding. Think twice and control our eagerness to say a piece of our mind because if we get impatient and just let it all out without thinking --- that would limit us to assess the impact of what we will say.

I was just too glad, I re-discovered my Other Mirror, the mirror, who will not lie and will always be bold to tell me my mistakes. The Mirror wrapped his arms around me and loving told me that I can always wipe the blemish, as long as I want to --- and that he will always be there to to tell me who I am...really.