LOBNA KHAIRY

Some prefer her helpless!

noreply@blogger.com (lobna khairy) — Sun, 28 Aug 2016 10:54:00 +0000

She is the definition of perfection… Everything you would desire and more. A heart of gold; the right mindset; funny; witty; a beauty queen; she dreams big and actually delivers… The only problem is she has “independent” written all over her!

There is something about women who have experienced independence and achievements that sets eligible suitors running for the exit door! And I can fairly say it this time IT IS NOT YOU… IT IS THEM. All of them; the culture, the society, and the men. It is not that your strength is not welcomed, it just has to be subtle. Don't you dare use it to become the exception in the "good girl" rule book because they scare easy. Men definitely get attracted to "original" women, ones who know what they want and probably how to get it too but will they marry them?!

I have witnessed the same scenario over and over again to the extent that it has become expected! Strong, successful women are more likely to end up alone! Consequently, a consolidating myth was born; strong, independent women choose to be single. But I can firmly assure you that no, for the women who are looking, they do not aim after the label “spinster.” They do want a man to share life with and cute chubby babies to snuggle, but they do not settle or merely accept what is being offered. It is quiet normal - no actually, it is required- for fresh female graduates to aspire; job-hunt and pursue a career that is until age strikes close to 30… It is right then and there that the same hands which applauded your determination will point their fingers at you for being "late." Many women will admit that it is slim pickings out there but the courageous ones would say it like it is; it is not about finding a man, it is about finding the man who can handle being with me!

As women we have been advised to be needy enough to make men feel important but not too much as to drive them away. We have been asked to limit our strength to standing by our man. We have been taught that a woman’s tears are her strongest weapon yet warned from depending on a man. We have been urged to fall for a man, get married, but keep an eye for whenever he decides to cheat or leave or even die. And I wonder, how is that working for us?! It reached the point of downright confusing, on one end women are encouraged to expand their potentials and on the other they get punished for their hard-earned success. And so slogans have been raised to point the fact that when it comes to relationships, modernisation is restricted to appearances.

A STRONG WOMAN WAITS FOR NO MAN.

STRONG WOMEN SCARE WEAK MEN.

A WEAK MAN CANT LOVE A STRONG WOMAN. HE WON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH HER.

And just like that a different species of women is acknowledged, the kind that men admire but would not dare committing to. As if, in an indirect way, women are given three options to be in a relationship; (1) apologize for their achievements, (2) split the costs of living, or (3) give it all up because after all compromise is a woman's specialty.

But see, that is just an excuse for men's slackness and getting too comfortable. If you are a woman who earn, you are like a time bomb because you have a choice and therefore you have a voice that cannot be silenced, And that is just frowned upon! So why bother let's bring in kittens who would scare easily instead. But God… How wrong can they be? Because, how many times have you heard about women who felt helpless and resource-free but decided to leave when enough was just the right amount of enough?! Countless…

Men really do not know what to do with strong women! There are many how to’s guiding men who are unfortunate to date women with a bigger pay check or have achieved more than they ever did! Can you imagine? Guidelines on how to accept a superior woman, but none for women on accepting superior men! And that for me translates to “all what men can bring to the table is financial support.” That this is the only way they know how to keep a woman caged in their homes, to own them, and guarantee that they will never leave. But I do not blame them, that is what they have been told, and they have an eye for the future. A strong woman disturbs the peace of a quiet home. She would not accept any bone you throw at her. She would not swallow lame excuses for negligence. She would demand her rights and will not let it go until her voice is heard.

So the next time you meet a man who run away or put you in the friend zone because of your “independence” ask him these questions…

What are you really afraid of?

Is it that I can meet you eye to eye?

Is it that I am looking for a partner rather than a boss?

Is it that I can have a say?

Is it that I can push you to become your best version?

That I can pack my bags and leave or worse kick you out?

That I will not fetch any bone you throw at me?

Is it that I have the power to say “Enough”?

Is it that I can live without you but I might choose not to?

Is it that I have a clear vision of what I want and What I need?

Other than that, YOU walk away... Because he is looking for an extension not a wife.

The Preface

noreply@blogger.com (lobna khairy) — Sun, 21 Aug 2016 23:15:00 +0000

It’s been a while since I last spoke through you…

You were my whole world

The only way to my inner peace

You were what defined me

unique... delicate... and worthy...

But

A lot has happened…

I changed…

I have aged 20 years in the blink of an eye…

Things changed….

Please forgive my tears as they hinder your way…

For I have been trying not to disturb you…

I didn’t want to burden you with my pain…

Or may be I didn't want to -one day- come face to face with them…

I have changed and I’m not going back…

I'm not necessarily wiser... I wouldn't call myself that...

I learnt cautiously to be cautious at all times…

Now my smile has to dig its way to my lips…

My thoughts have to be silenced...

They are too much to handle

And way too fast to trace

I learnt to expect the worst and be prepared…

I saw the enemy… the envy… and the hate…

I used to believe in unicorns and rainbows…

Now storms dominate…

I listen to them willingly on my own…

I bow to them... I am grateful...

They define me now...

Loud... fierce... and worthy...

I am no longer yours...

I don't need to hide behind you anymore...

I am not afraid of what they might think or speculate...

Simply because no one knows...

I thought I can use you to erase it all…

But I couldn’t write till I made peace first…

I fought hard and won the battle...

I lost a lot but gained what I once owned...

Think of me always...

watch me in silence...

Witness my rebellions

And forever be faithful...

I have been through a lot and I won’t tell you about it…

But I will tell you this…

I have changed and I’m not going back…

Top 8 things 2015 taught me

noreply@blogger.com (lobna khairy) — Wed, 30 Dec 2015 12:56:00 +0000

١- أكتر حاجة كنت فاكر انك لو خسرتها هتموت هى السبب انك واقف محلك سر

٢- قوة اى إنسان فى ارادته لاهى عضلاته ولا فلوسه ولا معارفه

٣- السعادة اختيار مش حظ ولا نصيب

٤- خليك خفيف مع الناس ومتتعشمش فى حد قوى غير ربنا

٥- متقارنش نفسك بحد لأن مينفعش حد أصلا يتقارن بيك

٦- اعرف ان المشكلة اللى انت فيها انت قدها وان ربنا حايش عنك اللى انت مش قده

٧- قدر قيمة الناس اللى فى حياتك اللى على طول موجودين مع ان ملهمش مصلحة معاك

٨- الطموح حلو والحلم مش عيب بس دائماً أفتكر تقول الحمد لله

1-the one thing you thought if lost can kill you is the thing holding you back!
2- a person strength is measured by his/her will. Muscles, money and connections have nothing to do with it.
3- happiness is a choice, it's not a destiny or luck made.
4- don't expect too much from people.
5- don't compare yourself to others because no one can be compared to you.
6- know that you can burden your issues no matter how heavy they are.
7- appreciate those who stay in your life regardless of your status.
8- always remember to thank God for where you are in life regardless of how high you want to reach.

مين اللى قال؟!

noreply@blogger.com (lobna khairy) — Thu, 01 Oct 2015 18:38:00 +0000

إن البنت الكوسة هى بس اللى بتسمع الكلام وبتقول حاضر ونعم.

إن البنت اللى بتروح كل يوم متأخرة دايرة على حل شعرها.

إن البنت اللى بتشرب سجاير أو بتشيش صايعة وأهلها معرفوش يربوها.

إن البنت اللى مش محجبة مش محترمة.

إن البنت هى السبب فى التحرش والإغتصاب.

إن المطلقة فاشلة ومتنفعش تعمر بيت.

إن البنت اللى عايشة لوحدها منحلة.

إن البنت لازم يكون مصيرها البيت والعيال.

إن الحرية ملهاش قيود.

إن الحب ضعف!

إن مفيش كرامة بين إتنين بيحبو بعض.

إن الراجل لازم يكون أنجح من الست.

إن الإختلاف نشاذ.

إن رأى الناس مهم.

إن السعادة نصيب

Have you met your worst nightmare?!

noreply@blogger.com (lobna khairy) — Sun, 12 Oct 2014 18:45:00 +0000

Have you ever met your worst nightmare? I had… today… literally!

The day starting as per normal… Me racing out of bed, reaching for my favorite cup half asleep and struggling to prepare a warm cup of coffee to balance my twirling head. I sat down and fetched my phone to dabble a bit on the ever-misleading facebook till I’m ready to go by my day.

Scrolling down… kept scrolling till I found something that caught my eye. A friend sharing her death analysis! Yup! “Know when and why you will die,” I read.

To tell you the truth, I’m not a superstitious type of girl. While it is true that I enjoy the occasional coffee cup reading sessions offered by a relative of mine, yet I don’t usually give it much thought. But I was up, had a few minutes to spare away from the thesis writing rabbit hole, so why the hell not?!

So I clicked on the link, agreed to share my info but made sure this will not be posted on my timeline- little did I know that I will be writing about it later today for the world to see- I chose “Analyze” and a second later I was covered with boiling coffee!

I felt the cold numbness crawling up my spine, my eyes popping out the way only Tom the cat knows how to pull off, and I irrationally threw away the phone terrified that the words will latch on to me. I got up, washed for the Morning Prayer and prayed long enough to shake what I have just read off my mind.

This is MY NIGHTMARE!

I dreamt it… I have seen it… Not once, but twice!

The first time was months ago… The dream was so intense that I felt the heat of the flames burning the side of my neck crisp and the cold sharp metal of the car penetrating my ribs. I heard my own voice calming my trembling nerves, “it will be over soon… I’ll be dead soon”

And the second time was only three weeks ago… less intense but vivid enough for my right leg to cringe every time I recall the rolling of the car and the sound of my bones cracking with every hit they get…
It is not a matter of when, because I don't know how my life will turn out. I'm working today for a near future that I have absolutely no idea of whether it will satisfy my ego or my hunger for uniqueness. I'm happy today but I'm not sure about tomorrow. It was never the quantity for my life as much as it has everything to do with the quality.

For that I know this may sound silly… I know this might seem like a trivial quiz on facebook but it touched a fear I have been dealing with for months. Simply, this is not how I want to die…

If it was up to me; I wish to die young on my favorite praying mat. May be I’m choosing the easy way out, for God will forgive all my sins and for me to walk the “sirat” with confidence like a proud graduate knowing her way to receive the certificate with the highest honors. Just like that! No struggles, no sickness, no pain; as peaceful as a sleeping baby.

But I still believe in the power of prayer. If I want this then I will work hard enough and pray as sincerely as I can for God to hear me and grant me my wishes. Yet, if I die in a car accident then this thing should be studied and investigated if I might add. Because how on earth would you know that! How can you guess that?! I have never written a post about my love for driving, or the fact that I love my car the way I would if I had a third child, or the fear of crashing, or that this is the exact same age my dad died, or the fact that I dread this number... Nothing!

I think I will wait and see… But I’m telling you if on the 9^th of October 2059 I died in a car accident don’t call it fate! Say that she had already read her tribute and wrote about it. That is of course if you are still around!

Enraged

noreply@blogger.com (lobna khairy) — Sat, 23 Aug 2014 12:07:00 +0000

I blow smoke to your face
To everything you stand for and everything you believe in
To your invincible chains and countless restrictions

Here I am standing right where you told me not to
Wearing what you once called unacceptable
Holding something you never thought I knew
Inhaling poison to exhale your toxins out

You taught me love then took it away
You fed me security then left me alone
You gave me freedom yet you forbade it

And here I am… blowing smoke to your face

I no longer fear you…
I no longer need you…
I no longer belong to you…

Watch me walk away
Watch me as I succeed
Watch me as I stand my worth
Watch me as I move on
Watch me as I kiss another man

And weep…
Grab your heart
Present it to me
And I’ll refuse

I will not fall for you
I will not pity you
I will not give you another chance

I won and you lost
I broke your code and spread my virus
I stole your strength and left you restless
I am building a future while you’re living in the past

I have grown stronger… I broke free
Look at me...
Now I can blow smoke to your face

Excuse me while I Gloat!

noreply@blogger.com (lobna khairy) — Mon, 11 Nov 2013 11:16:00 +0000

Today, I saw the look in a girl's eyes... A girl who used to intimidate me...

Today I intimidated her!

I have awakened all her weaknesses and vulnerability.

I was the image she wanted to be and that satisfied me...

I felt powerful, successful, and afraid.

The fear was overpowering; that of losing what I have mercilessly earned...

Today... I... WON!

On finding my "calling" or whatever!

noreply@blogger.com (lobna khairy) — Mon, 11 Feb 2013 09:47:00 +0000

I have come a long way from knowing absolutely nothing about my gifts, to knowing a little bit, to thinking that I know it all, to here... Where I am flat out confused!

Between the words, the fashion, the media, and the academics, I'm completely and impressively lost!

So I keep on reading, researching, and revisiting my old passions in a desperate attempt to discover what Oprah names my CALLING...

There are two types of people in everyone's life; those who are there to make you appreciate your gifts; others who will make you want to start over.

Pain is never exclusive

In my world; WORDS speak louder than ACTIONS.

A life-taught lesson; shame commences revolutions.

When it comes to beauty, God has the best taste.

Lies are always subjective; honesty is rarely objective.

Either figure out a way to worthiness, or create an exit for uselessness.

The older we grow, the lonelier we get. Period

Wish I had spent time wasted thinking about me, rather than on what people might think of me.

Ignoring is the best instantaneous cure.

Waiting does put out fires; passions too,

There is always a Plan B.

A talented man creates possibilities out of nothing; a tedious man kills what he loves the most.

One day my dreams will be my present.

The deadliest combination is a tongue that moves faster than the mind; and a mind that moves faster than actions.

Chances are to be taken at your risk. Period

The moment you'll stop feeling sorry for yourself is the same moment all your excuses will jump right out of the window.

Don't blame me for my slackness when all you did was make excuses for me.

Maturity kicks in when YOU are no longer your BIGGEST concern.

Logic is not the same with everyone. Period

Choosing a path does not guarantee the commitment.

It is not important to know what you want, knowing what you need is enough.

Get ANGRY!!

noreply@blogger.com (lobna khairy) — Fri, 02 Nov 2012 12:43:00 +0000

In one of my many, many, moments of desperation and the rumbles of me failing as a mother - the fact that I was not able to potty train my boy in two weeks and the fact that it has been three months since I have started... I had a thought...

What if I was magically turned into someone else?

Someone who did not get married as young as I did; someone who do not have the responsibilities that I shoulder. What if my life was only about work, success and more success?

The mere thought of a new life and a new me flattered my ego and had blood pumping through my veins. Could it be that I am not happy? Or is it just another attempt at satisfaction?

The role that I play daily, being a loving wife and a warm mother who rarely show discontent... It is just NOT WORKING! I am either faking a smile or cutting my demons loose. I find it boring... Not my style; and I feel guilty!

I want nothing but the best for my almost three year old son when all I am giving him is orders, screams, and the occasional " you're a naughty boy!"

I love my man to death, he is the love of my life, yet I manage somehow to always, I mean always, point out his flaws.

I have been going through this over and over in my head, for two years now and I realized... I AM NOT HAPPY

It is not that my son is "naughty" all kids are, it is not that my husband is flawed, I can write pages about my identity crisis, it is me... And that is something very hard for a Leo to admit. I do not need a different life... I need better time-management skills!

I need to get angry, or better yet re-focus my anger towards myself, rather than spraying it out on everyone else!

I see people, all around me, making it work for themselves... Succeeding in whatever they want to do, even if it was about making a casserole!

So, I am putting my anger out there, for the world to read...

I am angry... At me... And not someone else...

Why do you wake up in the morning?!

noreply@blogger.com (lobna khairy) — Sun, 02 Sep 2012 11:28:00 +0000

During a much casual conversation which started out as a meaningless talk to keep us alert after an intense night of serious clubbing, my husband simply asked, why do you wake up for in the morning?

Trying to hide the fact that this simple question struck a deep wound in my heart, I instantly, yet carefully replied; to work... I lied, because lately I've been turned between two lives, two worlds where I'm the only common factor, the life of a housewife who still didn't reach the point of desperation and that of a career woman who has a lot on her plate. I pretend to work, ye, that is my ugly truth so I don't feel useless and worth of a nothing. I pretend to write while all I do I just stare at a blank page with no words and no intention to be filled with words.

The question, why do you wake up in the morning, has no answer in my book. I don't know why I wake up in the morning. I want to work, in fact I have tons of dream and goals I wish I can fulfill, yet I allow the days to slip away and burn my dreams...

I have the same goals since 2009 and yet I always startle when I come across a note with an old date showing my achievement skills are up to nothing. It's as if all that I'm good for is watching other people live the life that I want and do nothing about it as if I have no will power... If I continue like this I will definitely end up a nothing and i'm not used to being a nothing.

In another life, I should be waking up for what should be worthy to and of me , the multiple fires that would drive me right out of that bed but I'm putting them all down as a result of my slackness...

My baby boy, my husband, my work, my home, my family, friends and life...

I need to start living my life instead of dreaming and fantasizing about it... I need to get it together and suck it up for once till I make it through... I need that feeling of a proud worthy woman back... I desperately need it...

Everyday I realize that what I'm doing right now is not enough to get me where I want to be yet I do nothing about it...

Why do you wake up in the morning?

Answer: blank

Ever thine... ever mine... ever Ours

noreply@blogger.com (lobna khairy) — Mon, 13 Feb 2012 22:51:00 +0000

All my life I swore never to depend on a man for happiness,

Yet, here I am… writing with your pen… on a paper you bought me… in your home… waiting for you…

You have made my life magical in ways that I never thought is real.

You have made every Valentine’s more special…

You have made every impossible… Possible

For forever my name will be connected to yours…

My entire life… Presence and future relies on you…

It is hard for me to admit that

But without you I do not exist…

I grew up in your arms

I became a woman and a mother because of you…

I love you with everything than I am

I am yours and you, my love, shall forever be mine…

Ever thine… Ever mine… Ever ours…

To all the morons out there...

noreply@blogger.com (lobna khairy) — Fri, 27 Jan 2012 19:55:00 +0000

In my head I won a nobel prize

In my head I’m friends with Oprah

In my head I’m a renowned writer,

One who matters

In my head I’m the world’s focus

My every word is important

My every move is worth covering

In my head I’m a bestselling author

In my head I’m better than Paulo Coelho

In my head everyone is interested to

Know me

In my head I’m the reason why the world

Is a better place

In my head my existence matter

In my head I’m named by people’s magazine

The no.1 most influential person

In my head I build an effective education system

In my head I’m the reason behind every

Great change

In my head I’m a supermom

One whose kids look up to her

In my head I’m flawless

In my head I’m the perfection of

Mankind

In my head I’m fabulous

In my head I’m the one who

Sets the standards

In my head I’m always smiling

In my head I reach satisfaction

In my head I’m a mogul

In my head I’m the source of

Power

In my head I die a noble death

In my head I leave while

Praying

In my head I live the full life

In my head the whole world

Mourns my death

In my head I die young

Never to be forgotten

In my head I’m larger than life

So please,

the next time you see me don’t just tell me I’m beautiful

Top 8 sources of POWER!

noreply@blogger.com (lobna khairy) — Mon, 09 Jan 2012 10:28:00 +0000

What a world we live in! One day you’re ready to take over the planet and on the next you feel like everything is worthless and every attempt is useless. It’s very easy to give up and torturous to keep going. We try to find that power we need to continue, to persevere and in rare cases to excel yet it becomes almost impossible to find optimistic people when you’re down. It becomes too dark when you need light to guide you through your already bumpy road.

To find reasons to quit, that’s easy; but where can you find that power to go the extra mile? Where can you get that fire to thrive and achieve uniqueness?

Books? Too Cliché… Internet? May be, but you have to go through a hell of personal experiences that might or might not work for you. People? Well, I don’t want to seem mean but not all people mean well, in fact sometimes they’d rather see you dead than succeed. So, it’s better, always better, to depend on oneself and exert that extra effort on soul searching to get to where you want to be. Think a little bit more, open up your eyes because not everyone is that lucky to catch their chance train, and you’ll find your torch. As for a start, I have got eight sources for you, may be one will work!

1. Faith

You won’t believe what faith can do to your life! If you have faith in your dream; if you have faith in the realization of it; if you can see yourself perfectly and comfortably fitting there, then it will happen! Have faith in your abilities; in the possibility of tomorrow; in the ever changing fate and you shall succeed.

Trust Allah and in the power of prayer; trust that He can hear you and He shall grant you nothing but the best and you’ll be blessed with the inner-peace you need to focus on nothing but your dream. Faith is a must if you ever want to become, period.

2. Love

In utopia, love should be a sufficient source of power. It should lift you up and push you to be a better person. In the real world, sometimes love kills ambition when all you care for is to be with that person you love all the while knowing that he/she will love you no matter what you become or don’t become, WRONG!

That hopeless romantic concept, I believe to be, too naive and shallow, because I’m a firm believer in constructive love, where two people hold hands to move forward; to motivate and support each other to become the best they can be.

Love is actually the most effective weapon of all, whether you choose to love yourself deeply as to see yourself worthy of nothing but the best or you choose to love and be loved by others, in the normal sense, love was never made to be destructive.

3. Loss

Yes! As much as any form of loss hurts and jabs, but it’s a real life-changer, I should know! Ever since my father’s death, I hated failures and weaknesses. I chased success in every corner as if my life depended on it. I refused people who called my vulnerable; I was trying really hard to prove them wrong. I didn’t want anyone to think that my dad left a fragile girl behind, easy to break and too heavy to move. I wanted to be his best work, I still am trying. And I pray for him every day because it’s because of him that now I know my passions, dreams and aspirations. And he’s the reason why I want to carry on my plan, to make him proud of who I shall become.

4. Acquaintances

My mom always told me that good friends bring good and bad ones bring nothing but bad. And you know what, I believe her; although if you asked me 7 years ago I would have firmly disagreed! Yet, she always pushed me to befriend the top 5 students in my class and I always wondered, why would I care what their grades are? I just want to have fun, popular friends! But she had a point, when you surround yourself with losers, in time you’ll become a loser too with a dumb attitude to prove it. But if you surround yourself with successful people, their aura will haunt you and in no time you’ll be thinking success and you’ll be acting success.

5. Experience

Your CV is your best representative! Where you’ve been and what you’ve learned can easily add up to where you are going to be. Internships, travels, readings, mixed cultures and courses will definitely boost your drive to your destination. And human relations will add years to your age. The more you meet people, the faster you’ll learn that not all people are good, not everyone is necessarily honest, but above all you’ll know that everything happens for a reason and you’re just too rushed to realize the benefits of everything you go through.

6. Time

At that point you must have at least heard of time- management, but that’s not what I want to talk about. I want to tell you that it’s never too late. No matter how old you are, you can still live your dream rather than just live in it. Today, the world has changed so much and I’m not trying to sound like a redundant anchor, but it’s true. Today, you can rejoin school and continue with your education. Today, you can resume where you left off and move on to a better you. It can seem ridiculous at first, but if you can open up a catering company only through facebook, I know anything is now possible. Just consider time as a variable factor, not a constant routine. It’s your right to refuse to be called a retired old man, just as much as you can reject the idea of being another tedious housewife. It’s your time and only you can decide how to spend it.

7. Jealousy

The green monster isn’t always evil; actually he can help you go somewhere. Pick someone, feel really jealous* of them, don’t envy* because that’s immoral, but just feel that burn of the I want to be like him/her and watch your life change. If they can succeed, so can you. If they can achieve, then for God’s sake, so can you. They are humans just like you, yet the only difference is that they used their full potentials and that rusty thing we usually overlook called the brain. If you can avoid crossing that fine line between jealousy and envy, everything should go in the right direction.

*jealousy: I want to be like someone

*envy: I want to be this someone and I hope he/she dies!

8. Human Nature

You want to be the better man; that is human nature. Everybody wants to be the best, and do much better than others. Everybody wants to be the center of attention. Everybody wants to be that someone who everyone points at and wish to be him/her someday. Everybody wants everything others don’t have. There’s nothing to be ashamed of, we were born to compete. We were born to try to be distinguished. Use that! Embrace your human side, we’re not angels, if God wanted us to be angels He would have created us that way. But we are not and thank God for that, because that what makes us work even harder, even if just to prove that we are better than others. Any reason, as long as it is legal, is a justifiable one.

Once Upon a Voting Day!

noreply@blogger.com (lobna khairy) — Thu, 15 Dec 2011 17:59:00 +0000

At exactly 10:30am on a sunny Monday morning, I was standing in line next to my mother ready to give my voice to someone I was in no way terrorized to vote for. This time I was going to take part in making history and witness Egypt as it blossoms into the beautiful democratic country it ought to be. Well, I was a part of making history alright, but the democracy part now seems like a blurry image of something I can’t really tell if it’s real or just mere hallucination!

Since great minds think alike, all women showed up early and I mean all women! The line was endless; it was two streets away from the Mohamed Taymour’s school door where I’m supposed to vote. It was hopeless, part of me actually considered leaving and coming back in the afternoon or may be tomorrow but the look my mum shot me when I started complaining pinned me right where I was, sinking in the muddy streets of Nasr City.

You would think the fact that it was all women would make the four hour long waiting interesting and fun, but as it appeared women didn’t talk about politics, in fact we were ordered by one bossy woman not to talk about the candidates because she considered that to be a form of advertising and influencing. So, what else women talked about? Food, yes it came down to the point that women were exchanging recipes, actually two got into an argument of whether it was better to use garlic chopped or minced when preparing molokheya! And knowing that my knowledge about cooking ends at microwaves you can guess how happy I was.

As the street got busier with cars dropping off women and the sun was growing merciless, a young woman appeared with a megaphone screaming that any woman above 60, pregnant or with children should proceed to vote directly. That’s when my mum chose to sarcastically mock me for not bringing my 20 months old baby along.

By 1:30pm my back was killing me and my feet were slowly outgrowing my boots but on the bright side the school’s door was at least visible to me. Right in front of the school, there was a Muslim brotherhood booth with lots of men wearing hats with “El horeya wal Adala” logo, they weren’t actually promoting for their candidates, not in an obvious way at least, but they were lecturing people on how to vote. Other parties sent in their youths wearing t-shirts with printed logos distributing informational flayers about their candidates. Some women refused to take those flyers because that was unethical while others took them then threw the flayers away.

Approaching the gate, we were walking a lot faster now; I had to part ways with my mother because we were in different voting committees. My battery was dead by then so we agreed on a meeting point. I headed to committee number 75 and I was devastated to find a line again. But with the scary bossy lady off the radar we were free to talk about politics, candidates, and the SCAF whichever way we liked. One woman innocently joked about the Mubarak era saying that he saved us from the elections hastiness, when another woman starting yelling “who’s saying Mubarak? Do you have any idea what he did to us? He robed us blind?!” After we soothed things out between the two and prevented what could easily turn into a catfight considering the heat and the long hours came my favorite part, the talk about the candidates and the parties. I was voting for “El Kotla Al Masreya” and “Mostafa el Naggar” out many reasons but the most important, I think, is to bring diversity to the parliament. Almost everyone I know, including my grandparents, are voting for Muslim Brotherhood and I just don’t want to repeat the farce of the NDP all over again.

Just as I wrapping up my wise political theory, three army soldiers barged into our diminishing line yelling, “Lobna Khairy! Where’s Lobna Khairy?!” I swear it was my first time to be aware of my knees’ existence, my heart just pounded as the thought of being arrested, tortured and rapped like the horror stories I hear about women’s interrogations in the Egyptian police station brought vomit to my mouth. I replied hesitantly, that my unfortunately I was she, one of the soldiers answered “your mum is waiting for you outside” Could I be any more embarrassed? My mum actually sent the “army” to look for me when I was just lecturing the women, who by the way were much older than I am, about the importance of diversity in the political scene!

It was almost 2:00pm when I was up next to vote. I was doubtful and scared; what if I marked the wrong person? What if I took too long and people started complaining like it happened before with other candidates? But the truth was the people in that small filthy, if I may add, classroom was more helpful than I could have ever imagined. They guided me through every step and successfully managed my stupidity. And I voted without messing it up. For the very first time, I wasn’t hesitant about my candidates of choice or the vision of the political party I am for. For the very first time, I actually knew what I want for my country’s future to look like and I did my part. I voted!

So as I walked outside the room my head was filled with two thoughts, first, how sorry I felt for those students who have to go to that school because it was unbearably hideous, old and smelly and second, the fact that I, ironically, waited for 4 and a half hours to vote in just 2 minutes!

Polygamy in Egypt

noreply@blogger.com (lobna khairy) — Mon, 12 Dec 2011 18:21:00 +0000

According to a recent statistics conducted by National Centre for Sociological and Criminological Research (NCSCR) after only three short years of marriage, nearly 25 percent of Egyptian husbands take on a second wife when almost 70 percent of those second marriages end in divorce!

The alarming rapidity with which men remarry raised the imperative question of why Egyptian men are yet again embracing polygamy in the midst of the deteriorating economic status of the country, the obligatory military service and the exacerbated unemployment crisis. Nevertheless, the validity of polygamy in Islam was almost never really questioned here in Egypt, it was never legally banned before like in many Islamic countries including Tunisia, Turkey, Tajikistan and Indonesia, yet it was always frowned upon by women!

“Polygamy is God’s right granted for men limited to four wives with a number of conditions underlying fairness to the first wife. The problem is that women overlook the sanctity of protecting fellow Muslin sisters from the various harms in society because of selfishness and the idea that their husbands are insulting them by taking a second wife,” said, Sheikh Mohamed Gad, Head of Panorama el Shrouk Mosque, Shrouk City, Egypt.

In Egyptian society, the reasons why husbands take second wives can vary randomly. Some men remarry out of nothing but love, yet the idea of informing the first wife is too scary for many reasons, to mention a few, to avoid marital problems, to maintain a healthy peaceful environment for the children and escape the divorce demands the first wife insists on when informed about the second marriage. “There’s nothing wrong with my first wife, I love her and I still do, but I did not want to sin or do anything that will jeopardize my faith so when I met my second wife , I decided to get married. It was not an easy decision, and it requires a lot of sacrifice from my second wife to keep our marriage as discreet as possible, but in the end I am doing nothing wrong or illegal,” said, Moustafa Hussein, 36, businessman.

Others seek fatherhood, which is one of the most common reasons why Egyptian men remarry when the first wife is reproductively challenged. However, in most rural cities in Egypt, many men blessed with daughters remarry for the second and even third time until they have the heir they hope for. Despite the hail of equality messages Egyptian media adopted throughout the past seven years, well educated men still pursue the outdated desire for a son. “I have four daughters and I love my family, but I wanted a son of my own and thankfully now I have one as a result of a second marriage; I informed my first wife after having my boy because I didn’t want to create problems out of nothing if God didn’t grant me Hamza,” said, Ayman Galal, 48, anesthesiologist.

When torn between misery and family, some men try polygamy to have the billboard-like marriage they dream of instead of breaking the first one. “It was the endless fights and demands; I didn’t want to divorce my first wife and I still don’t to keep my family together, so I married another to give me the peace and patience I need to continue my life,” said, Amr Faramawy, 42, businessman

Yet, not all Egyptian women refuse the idea of polygamy; in fact some wives don’t want a full-time husband and would not mind being a part-time wife either which means sharing him with another wife. “I married my second wife 6 years ago, my first wife knew all about it from the moment I decided to get married, she was jealous and hurt at first of course but now she has the time she needs to look after the kids as she likes without having to worry about me and what I think of her,” said, Emad Antar, 42, field engineer.

Polygamy is most certainly the most controversial family system in Islam; however there are many conditions that allow the man to have more than one wife yet keep the responsibility and presence of marriage alive. “Polygamy was mainly intended for protecting widowed women with children, to give her the security and marital life she accustomed and guard her from sin,” said, Sheikh Mohamed Gad. For a husband to remarry he should be able to afford the expenses of multiple households, he should be able to give fairness in terms time and treatment to both wives, and a justifiable reason to get married like if the wife is sick or barren.

Polygamy like any system has its advantages and disadvantages. “Look at the number of Muslim women who are not married, divorced or widowed; if a man can be fair and pay for more than one home, then why shouldn’t he marry another,” said, Sheikh Mohamed. Polygamy will definitely help abolish the phenomena referred to as “spinsters”, curb men’s excessive sexual needs where one woman may not be enough, and increase population. But the problems resulting from the misuse and the misinterpretation of polygamy is the reason why most men are cautious about second marriages.

Egyptian women are fighting polygamy hard; in 2000 a new marriage contract was issued legalizing for Egyptian wives to put the conditions they want which if violated by the husband, a divorce can be easily granted by the court. Among those conditions are allowing the wife to work, number of kids or in some cases none, marrying another and travelling to work abroad.

Lost in unedited thoughts

noreply@blogger.com (lobna khairy) — Mon, 21 Nov 2011 13:12:00 +0000

It happened before, this feeling, this fear, this fogginess and endless darkness.

The weather was exactly like today, indecisive.

Ten months ago I was at the same place I am today

Worried and confused.

I thought I will take a stance but I got scared away.

The effect was undeniable

A far fetched victory

That was all

I got to a point that shook my belief system to the core

I was active in a good way

I got a cause to live for

I adored my son even more

I had a mission now to raise him like a true Egyptian

A justice fanatic!

Here we are again,

At the same place

Today, I love my country…

Egypt; a country so vague that makes you wonder whether you love it or hate it!

Today I feel for my people

All the screams and blood.

All the lives that were shed.

They’re trying to say something but it’s too loud I can’t seem to hear them.

I got lost in the midst of all the voices trying to block out each other.

The once hated are now hailed.

The once loved are now hated.

Political parties are clashing.

Rumors of conspiracies are flying.

My country is turning into a victim.

I fear for Egypt…

Where are we going?

What are we doing?

The revolution is now cursed?

When will the dust settle?

It can take years…

I fear for my son

I fear for the future

It's all blurry again

It's all grey again

I hope Egyptians can no longer be manipulated

I wish for roads to be simpler and cleared

I wish for everyone to be honest

We are still virgins when it comes to politics

The grounds are all already shaking

I thought I understood

I thought I have changed

I thought we have gotten more aware

I thought all Egyptians are now patriots

I was wrong

There are Agenda's

There are conspiracies

There are manipulations

And the people are yet again paying the price...

Is this our country or will forever be theirs?

Egypt is cut open

And we are exposed

It's time to render

It's time to decide

Can we be a better country?

I am lost…

A mature to be

noreply@blogger.com (lobna khairy) — Fri, 27 May 2011 11:34:00 +0000

(Published in Magnificent- April 2011)

Back in August, 2009 I was at the AUC studying the principles of voice coaching and TV presenting. Back then radio hosting and writing were my ultimate goals; they were the dream that forced me out of bed each morning and had me cursing every sunset that came by. On the very last session, the instructor- as promised- sat us all down to give her final feedback and honest advice. We were anxiously fetching for flattery and kind remarks to complement all the hard work we’ve put to ace our challenges. Being the sincere self she’s known to be, Dr. Maha tried her best to deliver her thoughts without embarrassing or de-motivating anyone.
I was expecting her comments to be limited to voice tones, facial expressions and body language when she surprised us all with her graver remarks. She was addressing characteristics that affected the way we talked, acted and reacted. She told me that I, for some odd reason, come off as the shy girl. She told Hossam, that he needs to lighten up his seriousness. She told Heba that she doesn’t need to smile because she already has a friendly face. And then she turned to Nancy; her voice changed, she was now speaking as a mother rather than an instructor. Throughout the course, she kept on telling her that she would be an excellent TV presenter for kids, which drove Nancy crazy because she wanted to be taken seriously, yet, no matter how hard she tried she always came off childish and funny. It was then that Dr. Maha uttered a word that I never thought could affect someone that much. Maturity! Her advice for Nancy was to work a lot, to read a lot, to gain as much experience as she can to become more mature!

At that very moment, maturity was more of a sign to me than just a random remark. That was- and shockingly still is- exactly what I’m missing. I had just turned 22; I was two and a half months pregnant; I was keeping it a secret from almost everyone and I was living in denial! The pregnancy news hit me by storm; it was as if betraying my own dream; a brick wall that I cannot destroy nor cross over. And I kept saying I’m not ready to be a mother; I don’t have what it takes to be a good mother. And it’s true! I was not patient; I was not, by any means, into kids; and I had too much on my plate at that time to simply shut off or make room for what’s about to come. But the truth is I was scared, terrified actually to raise another human being while I, myself, am not done growing up.

It is such a huge transition being married with a kid; before when I was about to go to college, I never felt it was that big of a difference because I still lived with my parents, I still had to study, I still panicked during finals and I still had to wake up at 7:00am! Yet, only one factor was changed and I was never overwhelmed or horrified. But with marriage you become responsible for everything, starting with managing the house all the way to safety and cleaning, that of course and the fact that for the first time in my life I was living with a boy!
Exactly one month after coming home from what I can only call a luxurious honeymoon I found out I was pregnant, and my life started to shatter right in front of me. No more published articles, no more radio shows let alone the possibility of a TV show- because who would want to hire a bloating mum to be- and definitely no more clubs and long late-night dinners with super cool friends who have nothing to worry about. Back then, I thought of those nine months as eternity as if I would always be nothing but a pregnant blob. I just couldn’t see a life for me after having a baby and I kept on waking every night to the same nightmare of being an ugly, boring, fat, 40-year old housewife who has wasted her life doing absolutely nothing.
I was totally alone in this pregnancy; I had to rely on books, internet, my mum’s narration of her tales with what seemed to be a sillier version of me and other mums, who I can tell you now since my son is about to complete his twelfth month were lying straight to my face with the whole motherhood is a blessing story. Allow me to tell you what motherhood really is; it’s being on call 24/7, never having a fixed schedule; it’s to live your life day by day, when plans almost never fall into action. Motherhood means giving up on your wishes to meet your baby’s fierce demands. It’s not sleeping at night for weeks and in my case probably for another year. It’s to put your personal life on hold until your baby sleeps and when he does you spend it hoping his nap would last for at least an hour. It’s a constant sense of guilt and question whether you’re doing everything you can to provide a happy healthy home. It’s playing calm and patient when all you want to do is scream and run away. It’s never having a quite time let alone a quality time. Motherhood knows none of an “I” it’s always he, she or they. That is the ugly truth about motherhood, in some ways it is truly a blessing but most of the time it’s none stop work.

I learnt that the hard way and still to this day I wonder how every woman went through it and survived. I wonder how they get everything done without falling apart and yes I envy those who are still single and not looking. I envy their ability to sleep late on weekends and have a fun night out whenever they want. I’m still waiting for me to adapt, to mature and suck it up. I have a long road ahead of me and a lot of barriers I have to cross. But I can tell you this for now, being a mum is a huge life changing experience even if I’m, at the time being, still struggling, I know deep down that one day I’d wake up a new, improved and hopefully a more mature me…

Of Strikes and Perseverance

noreply@blogger.com (lobna khairy) — Tue, 17 May 2011 18:31:00 +0000

(Published in Magnificent Magazine- April 2011)

It happened towards the end of a new year’s first month when resolutions were still searing with high hopes. But unlike usual resolutions, change no longer seemed far- fetched or scary. This time any change- no matter how tiring- sounded much better than our current today. With the scheming, the stealing, the poverty, and the never ending chain of injustice; it was inevitable for silence to break and for the people to roar.
On January, 25th, 2011, the Egyptian Revolution started…

It was to everyone’s surprise that the revolution kept going, for many it was just like any other riot that has happened before where water hoses and time were enough to put out. Yet, the consecutive blows did nothing to the demonstrators but keep them stronger. This time it was different. This time passiveness was no longer tolerable. This time and for the very first time in 30 years the people were truly fed up and had nothing more precious to lose than what has already been lost.

During the revolution, like many Egyptians, I was tormented by the many contradicting views, between the pros and cons, the supporters and the opponents and the rushing turns of events. Honestly speaking I had my doubts, not in a million years would I have ever thought we’d be where we are today. I never thought Mubarak would actually leave and a couple of months later we would participate in a referendum. But it happened!

During the revolution, like many Egyptian females, I was once more a prisoner of my own gender where Tahrir was considered a dangerously prohibited zone and I was banned from even thinking of going there. But I had to participate in some way and luckily I had three! First, I had my words; I wrote a lot, poured out my heart to white papers and found consolation in my laptop screen. Second, I had my voice; I talked, discussed and debated with those who were- and surprisingly still are anti- revolution. And finally, I had Amani el- Tunsi, my friend and a sincere eye-witness to what was going on in Tahrir. Amani had the guts and the power to go to Tahrir since the early days of the revolutions, I used to call her and listen live over the phone to what was being said and most of the times sung! My heart was just getting hooked to the tales of Tahrir by the minute and she was my only left hope.

After a long night of celebrations on the 11th of February, I got a chance to ask her opinion, hopes and dreams for a better Egypt. After all, she was there protesting and demanding. She witnessed the entire revolution and was firmly biased to Tahrir and did not have a chance to be brainwashed by corrupted media or hidden agendas. Her words were precise and direct, she knew exactly what she wanted to voice to the point that she wrote a book that is going to be published soon under the name “Bent men midan al- Tahrir” (A girl from Tahrir Square) where she has narrated everything, minute by minute, and day by day along with all the people she talked to and discussed with the future of Egypt.

Amani told me that during those eighteen days she felt scared and terrified of what tomorrow might bring. “I used to go there every day with the possibility that I might not see my father again”, she said. “But I was hopeful and was overwhelmed with this strange love and jealousy over my own country. For the very first time, I knew what it felt to be free, to have a voice. What being an Egyptian really means”
When I asked her about the rumors of harassments, she said: “I never felt safer in my life; the men were helpful and defending. They helped us pass by, they helped us park, enter and leave. I felt at home. It was safe and cozy. Besides, we were not at Tahrir to harass or annoy, we had a cause. Even though the reasons may differ but we had a larger mission than silly boyish games”

The glory of this Revolution is not only about its political achievements but its remarkable impact on every person whether a participant or not. The state of being a revolutionary, a free bird who has all the rights in the world to accept or refuse; to demean or encourage; to go on or simply quit. We, as Egyptians, have lost this ability a long time ago. And you can easily spot our passiveness in everything, not just politics.
A student being abused by his teacher remains silent; an employer who is denied overtime bonus does not quit because he is terrified of unemployment; a wife endures her husband’s infidelity to please a sick society that disapproves divorce; A man stays in a lifeless marriage because he cannot afford divorce; A son’s dream is murdered by his parents follow their orders helplessly; A daughter is forced into marriage to escape her family’s prison, etc...
There was a time when no was not an option, when we were forbidden to think, chose, debate or even communicate, but not anymore. The revolution knocked on every door. Everywhere I go I meet people who started to voice their opinions and enforce their rights. Women facing their husbands asking for more respect and engagement; husbands no longer afraid of their occasionally scary wives verbalizing their anguishes; sons and daughters demanding their parents to listen and spend more time getting to know them; employers protesting for their financial rights and health care; students calling for better education; graduates arguing for jobs they can honorably life off, and people fighting the farce of high prices and the scarcity of a good affordable life-quality.

The revolution smoothly relocated from Tahrir square to our homes and minds. The change has already happened. We, Egyptians, have tasted democracy and freedom and I do not think there will ever be a turning back. Whether one agrees or disagrees with the brutality of change compared to the ease of bouncing back to an accustomed life, I say it is better to suffer a year or two of massive confusion rather than tolerating a lifetime of blurry attempts.

إلى كل من قال

noreply@blogger.com (lobna khairy) — Fri, 11 Feb 2011 17:36:00 +0000

إلى كل من قال علينا شباب الـ فيسبوك:

WE DID IT!

إالى كل من قال إننا معندناش إنتماء: مصر جوانا

إالى كل من إستخف بينا: الإرادة بتغير أمة

إلى كل من عارض وكان متشائم: نجحنا

إلى كل من كان خايف على إستقرار مصر بما فيهم إنا: مصر ربنا حافظها فعلا

النهرده نفرح ومن بكرة شغل!

كل رجل فى ميدانه

بلاش فساد

بلاش ظلم

بلاش تدليس

بلاش ظلم

بلاش تزوير

إلى كل أم: ربى إبنك وبنتك على حب مصر

بلاش أنانية

إلى كل رئيس عمل: إتقى الله

بلاش محسوبية

إلى كل مرؤس: إتقى الله

بلاش كروتة وطلسئة

إلى كل مدرس: إتقى الله

بلاش ملعنة

إلى الجيش المصرى: إنتو رجالة

إلى شباب جبلى: أرجوك إفضل إيجابى

إالى الشهداء: دمكم مرحش هدر

إلى المتظاهرين: عندكم حق الحرية طعمها أحلى كتير من عيشة مكبوتة

الثورة نجحت

بس ده البداية

فى صفحة بيضة جديدة لنج مستنية تتكتب

بلاش نوسخها

وأخيرا

إالى عمى: رجع فلوس أبويا بالتى هى أحسن وإلا....

ميدان التحرير موجود

مبروك يا مصر

Love crimes

noreply@blogger.com (lobna khairy) — Thu, 21 Oct 2010 08:57:00 +0000

It started out like a fairytale
You looked at me and I looked at you
I noticed you and you noticed me
You liked what you saw
And I admired the decisiveness in your voice
You were one of a kind; a unique soul
The heat was too much to take
Oh the games we played
Yes, the games you played
One day you’re in; one day you’re out
In mornings you loved me;
By afternoons you were bored
You had me hooked
You knew that
I was destined to live by your book
Nowhere is where I went
I was here, standing, waiting for you to make up your mind
Will you give me your heart?
A year had passed before the games had stopped
You shattered me and yet I was not to give up
You said it; the three words I asked from you
Yet the manipulations did not stop…
A happy home is what I thought we would share
In your eyes I have longed to stare
But the cruel gazes you sent my way
Showed me how love has gone astray
I swore I was innocent from the sins you threw at me
For my heart never loved a man but you
My hands never touched a hand but yours
My thoughts never reached the doorstep of your home
My bad… Your prison…
You locked me in
And I surrendered willingly
People told me it’s out of love you silly
Give him your heart, your soul and body
In his bliss you’ll live long honey
But I tried and it wasn’t enough
As one day you decided to play it rough
Your hands bruised me inside out
Your curses filled me up
Have no doubt
My respect has been replaced with fear
I no longer love you
I hate you the most
And yet you left no way for me to run
You owned every breath I take
You owned every move I make
You owned my cries, my pleas; my awe
You owned it all but you lost me honey
You think I’m beautiful
Then why tare my beauty down
You think I’m attractive
Then why blow my candle out
You made me feel that every man wants me but you
You sinned my body; called me the devil
And you had to live with that too?
You said I was your biggest mistake
What does that make of me?
You said I was your weakest point?
What does that make of me?
You said I was dead to you
And what did I do?
I shot you…
I set you free
From all the crimes you had to commit to me
The manipulations…
The doubts…
The jealousy…
The controlling…
You’ve sinned the most
When you lied to me about whom you are
I loved you and you didn’t comply
And I shall regret nothing
For it’s just another crime made under the name of love…

The perfectionism faux pas

noreply@blogger.com (lobna khairy) — Sun, 03 Oct 2010 08:09:00 +0000

(Published in Magnificent Magazine - Addiction issue 2010)

In our quality studded double standard world, a perfectionist is a star, a unique successful person, someone who’s worthy of everyone’s attention and the perfect candidate for idolism. When you come to think of it, you’ll see how you, I and practically every breathing person roaming this earth were pushed to be perfect, starting with our parents who falsely wished to have perfectly mannered children, who achieve the perfect grades and devise the most perfect career there ever was. To commercials which succeeded to wickedly invade our soft core and stimulate the already frenzied shopping addiction using only one word perfection.
So we buy expensive cars to be perfect; we splurge on insane couture to be perfect; we take, inhale, cut and sniff God knows what to have the perfect figure; we twist, turn and bend inside out to land the perfect partner, therefore life, therefore children and we beat ourselves harshly everyday for not following the much complicated guidelines to achieve perfection. Regarding all the aforementioned truths, does perfection count as something good as we’re made to believe or is it merely a faux pas?!

Well… Sometimes, when a healthy desire for perfection exists, it turns out to be a blessing, an unstoppable engine driving people to accomplishments and sparking the necessary twist to ignite motivation. It provides the power to persevere and give much attention to minute details. Perfection also ties people down, obligates them to commit to their project, to persist, to see it through to the end and to reject failure even when it comes in the form of alluring procrastination.
But, and that’s a very unfortunate but, perfectionism spreads through most of us in its ugliest form, where it becomes an obsession, a firing craze to always be a winner, which usually ends with flat out disappointment. That’s why you see most perfectionists are either depressed or weary workaholics, it’s because they, or to be much honest, we have an eerie belief system. A perfectionist easily believes that there’s no room for error thus would relentlessly torture himself over the pettiest mistake as what he achieves means much more than any other blessing he might ever get. It’s the success; it’s the people clapping their hands until they’re sore in respect for their astonishing work; this is what that they are after, anything less can immediately walk a perfectionist through depression, disappointment and self-loathing.

What comes next is the normal expected consequences of perfectionism, where one would be very inflexible and unable to deal and cope with change. To the extent that if you want to flip a perfectionist over, just mess with his/her daily routine and you’ll know what obsession really means. And because of the failing attempts at perfection; a perfectionist is usually associated with a compulsive behavior may it be alcohol, food, drugs, shopping, sex and smoking. That of course happens with an obvious lack of belief in self and own worth and so low productivity happens.
So now, it won’t come as a shocker to you when you hear of a failure perfectionist. In fact, the majority of perfectionists happen to be marked with low productivity as they care too much about how to get things done that to actually get it done.

If you are the natural healthy perfectionist type then you are not part this schemed faux pas, but if you fell for the spell, pushed yourself too hard to please the crowd and gain acceptance through the perfectionist reputation, then I’ve got a couple of things to share with you…
1. There is no such thing as “the right way” to do things; everyone has his own approach that works for them.
2. You can’t blame others for your depression or low accomplishments just as much as no one will ever take credit for your successes.
3. There is no harm in failed attempts; it’s where you give up on things that you’ve failed.
4. Perfectionism comes from you, you’re the one who decides if things are done perfectly or not so don’t be hard on yourself.
5. We are humans after all, we’re allowed screw ups
6. Everyone has a field of expertise you can’t ace it all.
7. Some things just don’t get finished like house chores and work.
8. Like you torture yourself over failures, praise your success.
9. Keep the adventure spirit alive, dabble different approaches instead of knocking on a concealed door that will never open.
10. Perfectionism is subjective!

Mr. Tortuous... You're nothing but a lover!

noreply@blogger.com (lobna khairy) — Mon, 30 Aug 2010 13:41:00 +0000

(Published in He Said She Said Magazine - July/August issue 2010)

In mere language notion, “tortuous” means twisted and complex, but in relationship terms tortuousness stands for those who are indirect, ambiguous and unable to keep their promises.

Disclaimer: This article is not dedicated to tortuous women not because they don’t exist or out of the fact that women are better than men or that I’m justifying their reasons, but due to their scarcity. As when a woman is being indirect or vague about her intentions with a man, it usually means she’s either not that into him or picked up on the vibe that he’s aiming a long-term relationship which is not what she’s looking for at the moment.
This article is not dedicated to womanizers who use tortuousness to mess with women’s minds, hearts and hopes. However, this article IS dedicated to tortuous men who have adopted this technique unintentionally and wonder why they never pass the “firsts” phase.
Ever since I understood how men-women relationships work, I became a firm believer that women everywhere love playing the mentor role for their men. They love the challenge, the possibility of changing a dense man into a loving committed partner and curing his illness. As winning that hard to get man over is a simple yet powerful testimony of the strength of their femininity and power to embark change. But when a woman tries and chase, tries again and chases a little bit more and change is nowhere to be seen, she starts to lose faith in her man. She starts to doubt his seriousness and intentions, after all women were not made to chase men; they were made to be pursued by men. And the emotional roller coaster tortuous men, like you, put her through become too tiring as she prefers to be with someone whom she can understand and interpret. Thus, she loses interest and leaves.

So, you see Mr. Tortuous, this is how women work…
When you come off as a player, you might seem appealing to a certain very limited segment of women at first. But for those who’re looking for commitment, once they’ve got you all figured out, you’ll be dumped at the nearest exit.
When a woman is confused about the nature of your relationship, because one day you’re together and the next you’re acting like you don’t even know her, eventually she’ll give up and quit. For that way, Mr. Tortuous, she sees you’re only good for busy women who want part-time men.
When your words are vague and your promises never leave the words zone, women see you as an incompatible man. Because for women, real men are direct with their needs and wants, confident decision makers who have no problem making a promise and sticking to it. And since you’re not fitting under that category, you’re not the perfect candidate for a potential partner.
And when a woman feels she’s taken for granted, that you’re keeping her there until someone better comes along, she’ll lose her trust in you on her way to losing her self-esteem.

Accordingly, it’s very much possible for you to stand by watching the woman you love walk away because you didn’t know what exactly went wrong. You thought women love mystery, you thought they appreciated hard to get men, you thought they enjoyed being tortured for love. Well… You’re wrong. Women translate shadiness, indirectness and lost promises as:
a. Lack of interest. Hence, you’re ditching the woman but in an indirect way.
b. Commitment jitters, where you can’t handle being in steady relationship.
c. Being rushed into a promise that you can’t get out of, so you’re pushing her to breaking up with you.
d. Indifference, where you take nothing serious, nothing is important to you not even your relationship with her.
e. Hiding a secret or a hideous past you want concealed.
f. Being a loner who cherishes privacy and keeping personal distance

Therefore this article is dedicated to you Mr. Tortuous, to tell you why you can’t hold on to a relationship. To open your eyes to a blind spot you could not spot on your own. If a steady relationship is what you’re seeking, then you better speak up. If you find a woman worthy of your love and time, stay direct with your intentions. Keep her on the same page as you are, define your relationship. If you make a promise, try your best to make it happen or at least say you no longer can keep it.
Mr. Tortuous, I want you to think of the many good women you’ve lost because of your shadiness. I want you to remember every situation where you passed on the chance for settling down because you thought women were experts with picking up on signals. Women will not put words in your mouth; they’ll wait around for you to make your move.
If you failed to do so, then automatically you’re removed from the partner section to nothing but a tortuous lover…

When sex-addiction becomes a Woman's thing!

noreply@blogger.com (lobna khairy) — Tue, 13 Jul 2010 14:14:00 +0000

(Published in Magnificent Magazine - Addiction issue)

In a world where ownership and ruling has been forevermore men exclusive, sex was no exception. In fact, sex has been portrayed as all that men ever think about; sex is how you attract a man; sex is how you keep a man; sex is how you’re rated by man and thus the world. So, it was only natural for men consumed by such tremendous amount of sex, to get hooked. Women, on the other hand, are famous for their romance capability, their lust for intimacy and friendship, and their outstanding nurturing performance. Such delicate and loving creatures take the world by storm when they act out of order. When she turns from a dandy lover to a wild party animal, from a nurturing mother to someone who puts her career first, from a shy desire-free flower to a monster who’s ready to take everything at sight and from a caged bird to a woman who’s not afraid to speak her sexuality…
Like men, women get addicted to sex, but not under the same notion. Most sex-addicts from the pink planet don’t have pleasure on their plates; they have other reasons, other factors and other people contributing to their addiction…

1. When the father figure goes missing
Ask a girl who has lost her father at a young age about security and she’ll give you a blank face. Ask her about protection and she’ll reply with extremes. Ask her about men and she’ll tell you they are never to be trusted. A woman who has experienced what professionals call “trauma during childhood” is expected to act out. This woman is after company, not sex. She wants to have a man by her side when life becomes too scary; she wants to feel the presence of a male with a little bit of revenge mixed with need, so she puts out. And what starts as nothing but a trick to attract men, turns into a habit, a manual to attract men that never fails and so she becomes a sex addict.
2. When physical leads to numbness
As it’s the case with any addiction, pain makes the headlines. There are no restrictions when it comes to the cause of pain, anything will do. In fact, sometimes all it takes is a minor strain to turn one’s life upside down. Failure happens to be a major pain trigger. Failing to achieve, to find love, to be loved, to succeed, to enjoy and to feel good about oneself are all enough causes for a woman to resort to sex to feel the satisfaction she’s missing in the real world. Her success to please a man and make him beg for more gives her the thrill she needs to keep on living. She may not get an orgasm, she might not even know how an orgasm feels, but it’s the virtual moment she enjoys that makes her forget all about her pain, failure and distorted body frame.
3. When the need to feel desirable strikes
Make a woman feel beautiful and you’ll keep her for life. But what if she lost that feeling? What if she never knew how beautiful feels? What if she’s spent her life being casted aside and made fun of? When any person is subjected to rejection becomes either an introvert or an extrovert. Women who show sex-addiction, uses sex to prove people wrong, they want to show the world how much men desire them, how sexy and attractive men find them and accordingly, one-night stands become their thing, only for the sake of revenge, nothing more and nothing less.
4. When abused stands for used
The stereotyped image for sexually abused women is lost and so they become. I’m not generalizing here; I know there are the fighters who work hard to fit life back into customary context, but I also know those who fell down hard and sunk deep into despair. Those helpless women found acceptance in sex, the very same acceptance they wanted to find among society yet failed. They find sex as their savior and their pill to spend life without looking back at the shameful day that turned them into decent prostitutes.
5. When swallowed by loneliness
I know how loneliness treats a person, she calls him a nothing, a neglected object, an extra word that’s constantly deleted and she yells at him, put him down and makes him feel like a good for nothing. What cures loneliness is the company of another soul, it doesn’t matter if it’s pure or evil, it doesn’t matter if it’s sincere or betraying; all that matters is that it’s there. Married women experience loneliness, working women experience loneliness, mothers experience loneliness and sex becomes their toy, their source of entertainment and the most fun thing they look forward to do.
6. When self-worth = ??
How many women you know define themselves according to men, to their relationships with men? Women who don’t know who they are outside the commitment bubble, women who don’t know their capabilities and their strengths; women who feel worthless unless they’re dangling from a man’s arm. I know hundreds and I’m sure there are millions of women who can’t define their identities without the help of a man with magical arms to shape them and what better way to get that man than by some magical sex.

Call them desperate, needy or weak. Call them shadows who have been misguided. They are women who live among as, and like all earth-ian women they want love and acceptance. And along their tiring journey in search, they come across sex. They become addicted to sex, those who were once addicted to love and the rush love brings, move on to the next level and trust that sex will never fail to give them what they need, a man by their side and an effective anesthetic until life becomes all pink again.

Even God won't change the past

noreply@blogger.com (lobna khairy) — Sun, 06 Jun 2010 13:24:00 +0000

(Published in Euphoria Magazine - May 2010 issue)

Why would a rapped girl live as a sinner for the rest of her life when she didn’t do wrong? Why would an ex- drug-addict be treated like a fatal infection when he’s already cured? Why would a woman be punished for her right to love and choose a suitable partner when she has a mind of her own? Because people’s views will forever stay the same; once they label someone for a sinner will always be a sinner? No such thing as second chances, no such thing as a strong will to carry on. When they say you’ve wronged, you’re dead, even if God still wants you alive…

Exhibit A:

With a bitter fuming voice, my once madly in love friend started trashing all living women, calling them liars, deceivers and something about being tossed cans! It’s been exactly two months since I last saw him, I remember him being all worked up about this girl he met during a leadership course and how thankful he’s to God to have guided him to that specific place to meet the perfect girl for him. What happened? Did she cheat? Faked her identity? Had an illegitimate child? What could’ve possibly happened to turn someone on the verge of proposing to absolute hatred and anger?

Him: “I’m not her first!”

Me: “Do you mean she’s not a virgin?”

Him: “NO, no, I mean she’s been in love before”

Me: “She’s been in love before! That’s it… that’s what supposed to make her an unsuitable wife and mother for your kids. She’s a twenty something “woman”. Did you truly expect to meet a “woman” who’s been caged all those years, waiting for you?!”

Him: “She wasn’t engaged, she was very specific; I’ve been in a relationship before”

Me: “So, if she was engaged, would that make her honorable, respectful and worthy of your precious ring? You’ve been in relationships before, you’ve been in love before, but it didn’t work out. And it’s not like she’s sinned, it’s her right to love and choose who she wants to be with. Or would you prefer her to stick around in a doomed relationship just because people like you would not want to marry her afterwards? Or better yet, lie about having previous relationships so that people like you would place her under the good Egyptian girl category and would want to marry her? She’s not a woman with a past; she’s an honest woman, with nothing to be ashamed of, and a free will to choose.”

Exhibit B:

It was my first time to attend an ambiguous writers’ meeting, where no one, not even the staff had a clue about what the coming issue is about. So, for the sake of jumpstarting ideas, they asked each of us to share a life changing experience and the impact it had on our personalities, beliefs, views and everything. Thus, after a long pause free from eye contacts and some “come on-s” from the editors, a dark attractive guy saved us all and took the stage…

“Hello everyone, I’m someone someone. A year ago, I was a drug addict, heroin to be specific. Regardless of how I got there and how my parents found out, what matters is that I was placed in a hideous rehab center which I escaped a couple of times. Each time, my family would force me to go back and each time I manage to either escape or smuggle in drugs to keep me there for a few days. Until, I witnessed a friend die from overdose. He was a rich kid, with everything to live and get well for, instead he chose to escape through drugs. His death shook me to my very core because I knew him; I talked to him and shared drugs with him. Only, then I realized that death is near, especially to me, so close that I can smell the stench of its breath. And I quit drugs for good. It wasn’t the rehab that helped me, I helped myself start over and build a new life. I was so proud of myself that I saw no shame in being a recovering drug addict. I find it influential. But people don’t, they don’t want to hire me, they don’t to marry me their daughters, they don’t want their children around me because apparently I’m a bad influence. I was acceptable when people knew nothing about my addiction but now that I outspoken, they want nothing to do with me...”

Exhibit C:

Walking by a well-known children’s park in Nasr City, she was startled by a loud winded breath-like sound. Turning around in search of the source, she saw a man “getting off” at the dark corner of the fence. As she increased her pace thinking what a pervert this man must be, she felt his strong grip over her left arm and suffocating hand clasping her mouth. Her heart pounded as he dragged her to his leisure spot. She prayed hard for it all must be a nightmare. But the stronger she fought, the firmer he sealed her mouth. His rotten smell, thick hairy skin, curious hands creeping up her body were too much for her to bear… She blanked out.

Awakened by the deafening horns of a truck, she had only one thought in mind, how will she get in her home looking like this without sparking questions? She searched her purse for cash and headed to the nearest clothes store, asked the sales girl to help her for she had an accident and can’t walk the streets looking like this. Tossing her filthy old clothes away, she had to decide. Should she keep this to herself, fake her virginity and not tell a soul? Or should she speak up and share the heavy burden with her family? After weeks of torment, she decided to tell, after all she didn’t do anything wrong. Today she’s imprisoned in her own room, detained from life, love, work, friends and ironically family…

When judgments prevail it becomes almost impossible for the eyes to see different angles and for the minds to embrace an alternative truth. When we make mistakes we hope they go unnoticed, so we can easily pass for people living within the norms of acceptance. When we question fate and destiny, trying really hard to extract the rare good from the bad, we find our stronger side. When we decide to face people with our truth, it’s always rejection in the face. If God intended for us, and those who’ve had/ are still having a challenged life, to walk a certain path, for some reason we can’t fully understand within the moment of crisis, then we’ll walk it no matter how smart, careful and faithful we are. The truth is our past is exactly like our future; can’t be changed nor controlled. It’s either we accept those around us the way they are or let them be. Because if even God won’t change the past, who are we to challenge, judge and punish?!

Call me happy- go- lucky

noreply@blogger.com (lobna khairy) — Mon, 10 May 2010 20:20:00 +0000

See… I changed my font; I’m not using Times New Roman anymore; I don’t even want to use it… … I’m lying; I’m dying to change my Trebuchet back to Times New Roman; I’m struggling not to think about it; I’m keeping my fingers busy from changing the font just as I’m restraining myself from calling you…
I swear I’m not trying to annoy you; I just want to show you I care… I want to love you right and give you the attention you need. I want our dates to be perfect and my gifts to be thoughtful…
I didn’t mean to bore you down with all my questions; I want to know you perfectly. I want to learn you inside out; I want to know what makes you happy and what makes you tick. I want to learn your maze and be able to go in and out smoothly. I want to spare you the tiresome of hinting. I want to do everything you want me to do without even asking.

Before you came along I had no real friends. Before you came along I felt like I’ve been used and taken for granted, everyone knows I’ll plan the perfect event, buy just the perfect gift and prepare the perfect guest list. When they ask me to do such a thing, they think that it’s more like a compliment to me, that I’ll think of it as an expression for their unconditional trust in my decisions or maybe I’ll get fooled when they call me the superstar. It’s more of an insult actually because my so-called friends know that I’ll perfect any task they hand me, they know I can’t help but to do that, so they leave me all alone, to work, to plan and to buy while they go on with their fun-filled lives, leaving all the heavy lifting to me. But I can’t help it…

At work, no one questions my decisions, no one double check my work. I’m supposed to feel flattered and motivated. But I feel neglected…
When I’m at home, I spend my time cleaning and organizing. I go by my day tidying and managing. I live my life wondering what will go wrong if I stopped perfecting every damn single think but I can’t help it…

I hear people laughing at me; I know what they think of me. It’s complicated how they admire my attitude yet abhor it. But I’m no longer impressed nor grateful… I’m bored…
I’m tired of living in a suit I’m constantly worried to wrinkle. I’m tired of being used. I’m tired of losing man I’ve ever loved because I care so much, but I can’t help it…

I can’t help it because I fear failure and hate disappointment…
I can’t help it because I don’t like being judged…
I can’t help it because I don’t want to be rejected, if that’s what people like in me so be it, I’m a perfectionist…
I can’t help it because I loathe mistakes and the silly people who make them…
I can’t help it because I fear the unknown…
I can’t help it because I want to play the idol role…
I can’t help it because I crave acceptance…
I can’t help it because I seek praise…
I can’t help it because I aim security and certainty…
I can’t help it because I love success and uniqueness…

There… I’m exposed… Yet, I don’t want perfectionist to be my thing, especially after you told me you’ll leave. Usually, in a much similar circumstance, I’d switch on my stubborn mode and be the most perfect perfectionist I’ll ever be… But I’m not after changing only for you. Like you, I’m not happy, I’m never satisfied and I’m constantly tired to please this and that and maintain an image I’m wishing to destroy…

I saw your face flushed with anger and pity. I saw you raise your hand in question why do I act that way. I feel you like the outgoing person you rarely saw in me. I feel you want to destroy my conservativity and the schedule book I never fail to leave. I feel you want me to laugh at silly jokes, take a break every once in a while and enjoy life, and so am I…

I’m 22 years old, yet I’m living the life of an 80 years old. I want to live spontaneously and act my age. I want to throw my worries behind and live if just for a while outside the perfectionism curse… I truly want that and I’ll act on it…

See… I told you I can be informal, I told you I can speak my mind without editing my thoughts, I told you I have that alter gene… I told you I can be happy-go-lucky.