I finally took a shower after stinking for two days and wearing the same clothes for over 48 hours (even slept in them). I can’t recall if I brushed my teeth yesterday, though I did so this morning. I still feel I’m stinking!
This has become a regular pattern for me every month, despite trying my best to think happy thoughts, taking my vitamins, and keeping myself busy. Currently observing Ramadan, my thoughts are fixated on brownies and coffee.
It’s that time of the month for me.
And my time of the month comes every three weeks. One of those weeks is spent in discomfort and pain during ovulation.
Essentially, for many women, our bodies perform at an optimum level only two out of four weeks while feeling crappy half the month and still, we continue with our everyday lives like nothing’s unusual!
Many women experience severe PMS symptoms, but it's a topic that's often avoided for fear of judgement. Not only due to the stigma surrounding discussing menstruation but also because there's an inherent resistance to admitting that we feel vulnerable during this time and that our bodies require rest.
God forbid we should accept that a woman's body doesn't operate at its peak - All. The. Time!
But what if I am okay with slowing down? What if all I want to do for a few days each month is eat and sleep? The stray cat I feed didn’t seem to mind my odour, and my 11-year-old showered me with an unsolicited hug. So it can’t be that bad?!
Yes, what I found shameful was my continuous search for excuses to eat during Ramadan. It would be nice to have that break, even if I had it just three weeks ago!
So what if we don't cook at home, so what if I don't shower, so what if I crave a bit of affection? Some extra hugs never hurt anyone! What's wrong with admitting it? What is this pressure to constantly be performing?
Last night marked the first odd night of Laylatul Qadr, my favourite time of Ramadan. I stayed awake, but I couldn't bring myself to pray because I didn't feel 'clean'. I couldn’t even muster the motivation to shower! So, I spent the night awake, engrossed in reading and writing. And mourning the loss of a young friend. Basically, I engaged in an internal dialogue with the Almighty:
Part of me is relieved to know her pain has ended, while another part is filled with anger and disappointment that such a vibrant soul had to leave so prematurely. I felt the same rage when my father left. It’s unfair, I thought.
I wanted to share my unfiltered agony with my Almighty.
But everyone advises you to have 'sabr', to have faith. Expressing sadness or disagreement with your own Creator isn’t considered appropriate.
I do have faith. I do pray to reunite with my loved ones in the afterlife.
This week though, I'll permit myself to slow down, to express my grief – with all its shades - including sorrow and rage. Surely, God wouldn't be so harsh as to deny Her creations the ability to express normal human emotions?
What if I’m not a slave to my heart and body, then?
What if I've only just realized that all these years, I've overlooked my natural needs and suppressed ordinary emotions, and now I simply wish to show some respect to myself and, slow down?
I assure you choosing to rest is an act of rebellion! It took me two years of unemployment to realise that what my body and mind needs the most is rest - not aggressively planning out future nor mulling over the mistakes I made in this journey, but just acceptance that the way is "through", not over it.
Here's to more good food, stinky clothes and soulful writing ♥️
I love reading what you write. Always so authentic.