a rambler's life written concise

Fri, 02/02/2018 - 10:05 -- nfakih

Dear all the men in my life,

To my swim coach who pushed me to my limits everyday in and out of the pool: I hope you get your promotion to lead paramedic because you need to continue saving lives, even if it's not in the way you saved mine. You taught me to care for my body and that some numbers, whether race times or weight, will always just be numbers if not motivation.

To the teacher who believed the only fortune I'd ever make was with my body: I hope one day you learn to be as comfortable with female shoulders as the teenage boys who you claim to “worry” for are. You taught me to be unapologetically fierce in the face of blatant criticism.

To the boy who grabbed me, a delicate sunflower, with careless rough hands that tore every petal: I hope that one day we can finally call you a man because even little boys understand a woman’s command, while the meaning of the simplest words like “no” seem to escape you. You taught me that instead, I am a tree: strong and timeless, for the leaves will always come back even after the harshest of winters. You also taught me to stay away from flower pickers.

To the boy who wrapped up my cuts and healed my heart with every bandaid and strip of gauze: I hope you never lose your sense of compassion in an unforgiving world. You taught me that laughter really is the best medicine and now I laugh in even the most awkward of situations.

To the man who stole my mother's attention and broke her spirit: I hope your wife and newborn daughter will be able to have the parental bond that you stole from my mother and I with every night my sisters had to run to me for rescue from the monsters under their bed knowing mommy wasn’t home. You taught me that those aren’t the real monsters and I was capable of getting over my fear of the dark all by myself.

To my father whose mindset is stuck in war-torn Lebanon and thinks he needs to protect me from reality: I hope you embrace the modern world one day and realize having pride does not equate to a fragile ego. You forced taught me to burst the bubble you created and how to live life outside of your my comfort zone.

To my baby brother who I never thought I would want and realized that I most certainly needed: I hoped you would never feel the pains of growing up but because that's unrealistic, I wept the first time I held you. You taught me pure, unadulterated joy is real.

To the boy who loved me with small actions and big words: I hope you find someone who will encourage your filmmaking because, like they say, the silver screen is forever and your only problem was that you believed in infinities. You taught me that art is living; it is the artist’s burden to capture it, and I was the most delightful challenging muse.

And,

To the men reading this who have a hand in deciding my path: I hope you don’t mind that I am older than my years. Our age should be measured in experiences and moments instead of years because some people live more in 5 years than others do in 50. If we’re following this measure of age, than I am 36 years old, not 17, and this is all thanks to the men who come and go in the revolving door that is my life.

Sincerely,

  a rambler

This poem is about: 
Me
My family
My community

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